#She's his right hand and his partner in crime and the only one besides his uncle who can beat him at Pai Sho. They kick ass and hunt Avatars

[velvetydream]

꒰ :🥀 [ Till death do us part ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯

Summary : What if Alastors dear little darling wife, his partner in crime, the person he thought he'd never see again, turns up with Mimzy on the day of the visit of the big boss of hell.

Pairing : Alastor x fem! Reader

Word count : 1899 Words

Genre : Fluff , Drama , Angst

Warnings ➵ Mentions of death, you're shorter than

Vaggie, possessive Alastor, swearing

Prequel -> > The radio star lost <

a/n : I love this trope ngl, tried to not make him to much out of character, hope it worked.. T T

Also I'm rather new to Hazbin Hotel, so I say sorry if anythings seems wrong or out of character! ><

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The whole hotel was a bit chaotic right now, Lucifer himself would be visiting in just a bit and Charlie wanted everything to be perfect. Colorful decorations were hanging everywhere, a banner was hung up for welcoming the king of hell, how does one even welcome the king of hell into their hotel? Charlie was probably the most stressed of all, but Vaggie did her best to calm her nervous wreck of a girlfriend down.

The moment Lucifer stepped into the hotel was meant to make everything go down, Alastor and his Ego had somehow always a snarky remark against Lucifer. Charlie tried her best to keep them apart, introducing her other friends, before she announced how she would be needing his help. And again the banter between the king of hell and the radio demon started all over again. As if throwing insults at each other before wasn't enough already, now they were pulling at Charlie left and right, like two babies fighting over a toy.

But all things come to an end, which Charlie was thankful for right now, as Mimzy, apparently a friend of Alastor, which was interesting to know he even had any, came barging in with a grand entrance. As the woman now settles down at the bar, talking with the others, Alastor and Charlie took Lucifer on a walk around, Husker disappearing for a second too, but soon joining them at the bar again, a scowl on his face, but something else, undescribable behind his eyes.

A bang was heard through the whole hotel as the entrance door was slammed open and heard could be an angry voice. "MIMZY! You little bitch!" A demon, a slight bit shorter than Vaggie probably, walked in. A scowl evident on the face, as her eyes scan over the place, before falling on the woman she was looking for. "How dare you leave me in the shit like that?! You've got it coming if those sharks don't kill you, I certainly will!" Ignoring the questioning looks of Angel and Husker, you stomp over to the blonde, ready to yank at her hair, when suddenly a bit of debris was thrown through the window and landed beside you, barely missing you by a hair. "The fuck?" The demon's head craned around, looking out the window and there they were, those fuckers Mimzy was in debt to.

You didn't really have time to react much, as three people stormed into the entrance hall, all you could catch was a glimpse of red before the person ran outside, screams of the sharks could be heard, at least those were finally taken care of.

The loan sharks were gone and fought off quickly by that person, his voice now directed to Mimzy, your own eyes on her yourself with a scowl. She and that red demon apparently knew each other quite well, as Mimzy was walking to the door, you finally really looked at the demon. He had short red and black hair, ears sat atop his head, despite scowling Mimzy he was smiling, though a sinister smile it seems. His attire was almost completely red too, a cane was clutched in his hands, as he watched Mimzy walk off, you could only make out a small part of his face. The man seemed so familiar as if you had known him for a long time.. Your heart was running a mile right now, it was getting hard to breathe, and then...

"Thank you Alastor, really.." The long-haired blonde spoke up.. That name, it couldn't be right? Mimzy would've told you, she knew him, she would've definitely told you.. right? You must be mistaken right now.. Your eyes were fixated on the man called Alastor, the voices and sounds around you were all a mush, drowned out as your brain was going all around. Now that you could see his face, he definitely had some resemblance to him.. to your late husband, who had died before you. You were his assistant, his partner in crime, when the news hit you that he was shot, it broke your heart, but still, you continued on alone, killing. That's probably what also got you to hell, well sooner than later you were figured out and soon arrived here in hell.

"Yo smiles, this girly is gawking at you for minutes now." Slowly voices were coming back to you, the white spider beside you talked, pointing his thumb at you, the red-haired now meeting your eyes, his ears straightening and standing alert like the ones of a deer caught in headlight. What irony if he was your Alastor, the irony of dooming him with deer-like features, after getting shot assumed for a deer while hiding one of the many bodies. That day you decided to let him go alone, oh if you just hadn't done that, maybe you both would be alive or you would've at least arrived together in hell.

Alastor was taking slow steps to you, the smile on his face looking strained, yet it never disappeared, his hand was reaching out for you but stopped. Eyes moving over your form, taking in everything. Resemblance to his wife evident, but.. how did he never notice you before? Had he ever met you, walked past, maybe even taken a second glance but dismissed this feeling he has right now.

Swiftly he grabs your wrist, dragging you behind him, ignoring the calls of his name of the other residents, his mind plagued by one only thought, more like one only person.. you.

Stumbling behind him, his grip rather firm on your wrist, yet it felt comforting as if you knew he would never hurt you. Not in your lifetime and also not now in your afterlife. Eyes watching the back of his head, you were wondering what expression his face harbors right now. Was he happy? Was he confused? Disappointed? Maybe he knew where you were all this time but didn't want to meet you. No, he wasn't like this. He may have been distant sometimes while alive, but in the end, he was always a darling to you. Taking care of you, just as he vowed on your wedding day. A distant memory, yet one of the most beautiful ones you have.

A door was opened and as you were pulled inside, the door closed. Steps echoed through the room, you noticed a forest on the other side of the room, but that didn't rather faze you, eyes on him again.. and him only. "Al-" You were interrupted by laughter, the man before you was hugging himself, his arms around him, yet you still weren't able to see his face. "D-Do you know.. How often have I thought about you?!" His voice was loud, a static sound like from a radio accompanied it. One of his hands was tearing at his hair now. "That bitch never told me... I'll make sure to kill her for that.. She kept you from me.." The laughter got even louder, as if the man before you was going insane.

This behavior was nothing new to you, he used to be like this, high on adrenalin when another murder was successful.. Or when he was close to being figured out by the police and detectives, yet he always slipped away right through their incapable fingers.

"I always wondered what happened to you, if you grew old with someone new.." If you were able to see his face right now, you would be able to see the sinister yet possessive smile on his face, his eyes darting around the room.

This all ended in a second when he felt a soft hand on his. He knew this hand, he also knew the person it belonged to like the front of his pocket. "I would never, I carried on alone in your memories, yet I was never as skilled as you darling, so sooner than later they connected all the dots to me." A low chuckle could be heard again, the static radio sound calmed down again too. The tall man slowly turned around now, his hand engulfing your own, his fingers softly running over your own, before he linked them together. How he had missed this feeling, despite having a distaste for people touching him, you were different. Your touch felt warm, like the summer sun kissing his skin, it felt comforting.

"I've missed you mon amour.." His voice was soft, probably the softest it had ever been since he had arrived in hell. His hand guides yours up to his lips, as he closes his eyes and presses a soft kiss to the back of your hand, a smile, now softer, on his lips. He was never one for kissing you on the lips, he definitely favored kissing your hand, like the gentleman he has always been. "I figured with how you were talking seconds ago my dear.." A soft smile was creeping up onto your lips too, mirroring his own one. Red eyes open again, your hand still pressed to his face, but now he was rather holding your hand to his cheek. "Oh how I wished I could've stayed with you my darling, we would've been so successful.." Giggling at his words, with him at your side, you probably would have been going for a long time. "But who says we can't be successful now?" A smirk etched its way onto your husband's face, oh how he loved your daring little mind, always thirsting for blood. With you by his side again now, he would definitely be able to get everything done that he wanted.

"Shall we go back? I want to meet your friends properly." Wanting to pull away your hand, he softly gives you a tug, your head landing on his chest now. Wide eyes look the the side now, as you weren't really able to move, his arms having snaked around you and his chin resting on your head. This was unusual much physical contact, but figured that you hadn't seen each other for multiple decades he yearned for your touch just a slight bit. Your arms lying around him, embracing the hug. "Let's just stay here a few minutes more, we got enough time to introduce you to everyone down there but for now.. let me have you for myself." Nodding softly, your head rests on his chest, as your eyes close and you simply enjoy the presence of your dearly beloved husband.

"What do you mean 'married to smiles'?!" Angel, as he was introduced to you, shouted from his place on the couch now, staring at you flabbergasted. "We've been married for quite a few years before his death." Smiling you answered his question. Alastor didn't like all the attention you were getting, but sooner than later he would have you all to himself again when you two go back to his cozy hotel room or the radio tower. "So you two fu-" Angel wasn't even able to finish his question before he shut himself up as he noticed the look on Alastors face. This time he would've been dead for sure if he finished that question.

Overall everyone invited you happily into their little hotel family, it was amazing. Charlie immediately took a liking to you and if you're being honest she quickly was viewed by you like a daughter.

[hanniebaeee]

The Wedding

Felix x fem!reader

Warnings: nothing other than some shameless flirting and kissing

Genre: arranged marriage, best friends to lovers, flufff

Summary: You and Felix grew up together and are best friends. You both always knew that you'd have an arranged marriage, that's how it always works. But you don't expect to have an arranged marriage with your best friend.

Part 2 - The Honeymoon

The news hits you like a ton of bricks. Of all the things in the world you expect your parents to say to you, this was never on the list. Your mum is going on about "you and Felix finally being together."

Felix?!

As in, Lee Felix, your best friend, Felix?

The one who let you cheat off his math tests back in high school? Your partner in crime?

Your parents look so happy about this. Your dad is nodding approvingly as your mum goes on about how wonderful this will be, because Felix has always been like her son anyway.

You slip outside once your dad pats your shoulder softly and tells you that he's such a good boy and perfect for you. Pulling out your phone, you call him, your hands trembling. Felix answers after one ring.

“Bro, what’s happening here?” he says, his deep laugh rumbling through the line. Oh, so he knows.

The urge to whack him - again - on calling you "bro" is so strong, but just for this time, you let it slide. But your heart flutters a little because he sounds unexpectedly warm and close…like he’s right next to you.

“Are you… like, okay with this?” you ask, your voice a little shaky.

He pauses, then his voice softens.

“I mean… yeah. I guess. I mean, it's us…better than… you know?” he says, and you just know that he's blushing. You can imagine that soft pink of his cheeks and the perfect dusting of freckles - ok, get a grip!

You release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. He’s right. You knew you would have an arranged marriage at some point. That's how it works in your family, well, your families. But this is Felix. Your Felix.

You meet later that afternoon, in your usual cafe. He's smiling as you approach and take a seat across him. But this time, everything feels different.

“Hello, princess,” he teases, his grin wide as he sits back, eyes trained on you. “Should I start calling you wifey now?”

“Stop it,” you hiss, kicking him under the table, but he only laughs, his eyes twinkling.

“Oh, come on, fiancée,” he says, stretching out the word like he’s savoring it. “Aren’t you excited? You get to see this face every morning now.”

He points at himself, giving you a cocky grin.

“You’re ridiculous!” you laugh, lifting your hand to attack him, but he just catches it and holds it.

You freeze, suddenly hyper-aware of how warm his fingers feel against yours, his thumb tracing small circles along your skin.

“Hey, don’t get shy on me now,” he whispers, leaning in just a bit closer. “You've literally been my wifey for so long…?”

Your cheeks are on fire, and you yank your hand back, trying to ignore the way your heart is trying to leap out of your chest.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, bro,” you mutter, trying to recover as he just laughs harder.

“Hey, if I’m your fiancé, I better not hear that word coming from your mouth,” he warns, grinning. “Unless you want me to punish you for it.”

“Oh my God! What's up with you all of a sudden?!” You say, totally exasperated with his change. “And besides, it's not like you can just-”

He raises a brow and says, “Try me.”

And that’s when you realize that Felix is actually not just ok with. He's absolutely fucking celebrating this.

A storm of engagement prep begins (immediately), and your mum takes matters into her hands to ensure you look like the world’s most ‘eligible’ bride-to-be. This means you are in and out of boutiques and fittings and stylings and what not. It's a pain.

“Mum, please,” you groan, eyeing that ridiculous necklace she's holding out to you. “Felix doesn’t care if I wear that. He’s seen me looking like a troll! I don't have to-”

“That was before he had to put a ring on your finger in front of every important person in town,” she says, pinning you with that look. “Do you want Felix regretting this before he even says ‘I do’?”

You open your mouth to respond, but before you can, Felix wanders in casually, and leans against the doorframe watching you both glare at each other.

“Lixie!” you say, calling him over to settle the debate. “Do you or do you not find me sexy and appealing?”

Your mum’s mouth drops open at your bluntness and she glares daggers at you, but Felix just smirks as he walks over to you.

“Of course I find you sexy and appealing, wifey,” he says, with a shameless wink in your mum’s direction.

You mum sighs before she leaves the rooms, huffing and muttering something about “you two being a lost cause”.

The second the door closes, you give him your best glare. “I told you, stop calling me that.”

Felix just grins, tilting his head and letting his voice drop into a low drawl as he says, “What else would I call my wifey, hmm?”

You feel that little flip in your tummy, and you try to step back, but he only follows, stepping closer.

“FELIX!” you warn, heart racing as he grins, closing the distance between you until his face is dangerously close to yours.

“Where are you going?” he teases, his eyes glinting playfully.

You let out a huff, backpedaling toward the door.

“Outta here,” you say quickly, but he steps forward, his hand braced against the wall next to your head, blocking your way.

“What’s wrong, wifey?” he whispers, voice sultry. “Not scared of me, are you?”

“Please,” you scoff, though your cheeks are burning. “You're so full of yourself.”

“Oh, is that so?” he smirks, looking down at you like he wants to eat you up.

You swallow, eyeing him suspiciously, because what the hell happened to your goofy bestie? But before you start to side step him, he steps back with a satisfied grin, letting you go.

“I came to tell you that we're going ring shopping tomorrow.” He says with a wink. “You, me and mum.”

“Ok, you don't have to kill me for that.” You grumble, as you take the chance to bolt out of the room. You're sure you hear him chuckle behind you, and you can't help but smile.

Ring shopping with Felix and his mum is already more nerve-wracking than you expected. Mummy dearest just wants you to have anything you want. Or everything.

A pair of pretty earrings catch her attention and she floats away to take a look, and Felix sidles up next to you, giving you that smirk of his.

"Just pick whatever you like, Lix,” you tell him, attempting nonchalance as you point to a display case. “It’s just a ring - I really don't mind."

“It should be something you like, don’t you think?” he asks, his eyes never leaving you.

You narrow your eyes at him, flustered.

“Yah, I'll like anything you choose, ok?” you mumble, looking away, hoping that you don't look like a tomato in a dress.

“Of course,” he says, looking through the rings.

You start browsing too, but every time you risk a glance at him, you find him staring at you with that amused smirk on his stupidly handsome face.

“Felix,” you hiss, trying not to stutter. “Will you stop that? You’re distracting me.”

“Sorry babe,” he says, his voice low. “Can’t help it… ”

Your face heats up, and you stumble over your words as you try to regain some dignity. Just then his mum is back, and gives him a little slap on his arm.

“Felix, stop making her uncomfortable.” she scolds, and he just laughs and asks you, “Are you uncomfortable?”

“Uncomfortable?” You scoff. “I’m two seconds away from shoving these rings down your throat.”

He bursts out laughing and says,“Ah, there’s my girl. Feisty as ever.”

You shoot him a look, desperately trying to fight your smile, and glance over at the rings. You two finally settle on a delicate design - a simple band with a round diamond gleaming in the center.

“Good choice,” he says, his voice unexpectedly soft. “Looks like it was made for you.”

His words catch you off guard, and for a moment, you can’t look away from him. There's a warm, unfamiliar feeling stirring in your chest, and it just makes you want to pull him into a hug.

“Well, it’s perfect! Let’s get it.” Felix’s mum claps her hands, calling an end to your ring hunt.

The engagement party is a whirlwind of lights, drinks and an endless stream of guests congratulating you and Felix. The venue is breathtaking - but the heat and attention are a bit overwhelming. Your dress, though gorgeous, is sticking to your body uncomfortably, and it's getting harder and harder to keep your smile up. You feel your anxiety creeping up, ready to take over.

Just when you think you might combust under the pressure, you feel a warm hand slip into yours. You look up to see Felix, and without a word, he tugs you out of the crowd and into the gardens.

Outside, the cool air feels so good on your sweaty skin, and you sigh in relief. Felix leads you to a little bench nestled under a tree, and you see a glass of wine and a plate with a slice of cake he’s swiped from the party. And also a little bottle of water from his pocket.

“Better?” he asks, as he watches you take a sip of the water.

“Much better,” you breathe, grinning. “I was about to go hide under a table.”

He chuckles, leaning back and taking a sip of the wine, his eyes lingering on you.

“Couldn’t let my fiancée be hiding under tables, could I?” he says, nudging your knee with his.

You roll your eyes, laughing. But you catch a glimmer of something softer in his expression, something almost vulnerable.

“So…” he begins, looking away, sounding a bit more serious. “You’re really okay with this? I mean, me? Doing this with me?”

You can tell he’s hiding a bit of worry behind his charm, afraid you’re anxious about being with him. The thought alone makes your heart ache a little, and you reach out, slipping your hand into his. You give his fingers a gentle squeeze and smile softly.

“Felix,” you say, looking him right in the eyes, “I’m so glad it’s you. I really am. I mean, I feel like the luckiest person alive to be marrying my best friend.”

For once, his easy, cocky confidence falters. He blushes, a soft pink covering his cheeks as he looks down, biting his lip. He lets out a small, shy laugh, his fingers tightening around yours.

“I feel the same,” he murmurs, his voice so low, it's barely audible.

Felix wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a warm, tight hug. You let yourself sink into it, your own arms going around his neck. You feel his heartbeat against yours, everything else fading away as you just hold each other.

This feels so good - just the two of you, close, cozy, and warm. But just as you’re starting to relax, you feel his hands begin to wander. It slides a bit too low down your back and you pull back to stare at him, wide eyed.

“Felix!” you whisper-yell, squirming. “Keep your hands to yourself!”

“What?” he says, feigning innocence. “Can’t a man hug his future wife?”

You try to glare at him, but it’s impossible to keep a straight face as he grins down at you like that.

“If you want to keep all ten of your fingers, you'd be more careful.” you say dryly, letting him pull you in for another quick squeeze before finally letting go. But his arm stays draped around your shoulders, as if he’s not willing to let you go just yet.

If engagement prep was a pain, wedding prep is basically a full-time job. Your days are a blur of dress fittings, cake tastings, and jewelry appointments - and it's totally exhausting.

And if all that wasn’t enough, your mum has taken it upon herself to enforce a strict “no Felix” rule until the wedding. Apparently, she thinks that if you keep hanging out with him, you’ll run out of things to talk about post-wedding. You practically choke on air when she says it.

“Are you serious? He's my best friend! Who am I going to talk to then?” you ask, only to get a very serious look from her.

“Trust me, you’ll thank me when you’ve still got some surprises left.” she says, and you just huff, mentally counting down the hours until you can actually see Felix without her watching you like a hawk.

During dinner with Felix and his family that night, your mum casually drops the news that both sets of parents have planned to gift you and Felix a massive, all-expenses-paid honeymoon.

Felix glances at you from the opposite side of the table, trying not to grin and you do your best not to look at him. And he nudges your foot under the table and you nudge back, until your mum gives you a sharp glare and you quiet down.

Later that night, Felix sneaks over to your room as the parents get busy, and you both sit cross-legged on your bed, a laptop open between you, scrolling through honeymoon destinations. The choices are endless - beach resorts, mountain cabins, historic villas, exotic getaways…

“A beach resort, huh? Imagine you… in one of those little bikinis…all warm and sun-kissed. I suggest a beach resort.” Felix says, leaning into you.

You sigh as you say, “Felix! Shut up! I assure you there won't be any bikinis.”

He laughs and says, “Or what about the mountains? We’ll be all alone in a cozy cabin, we can just get comfy in front of the fire with the snow falling outside… and absolutely nothing else to do all day. Just you know…it's always the cold that -”

He playfully shoves you a little, and you shove him back a little too hard that he falls off the bed and lands on the thick rug with an exaggerated groan, rolling onto his back with a pained look.

Just as you’re about to scold him for being ridiculous, your door creaks open, and your mom walks in, her mouth dropping open at the sight of Felix sprawled on the floor.

“What are you doing?” she screeches, giving you an incredulous look.

You freeze, as if caught committing a crime, as you stutter, “He - Mum, he was asking for it.”

She puts a hand on her hip, shaking her head.

“That’s no way to treat your future husband! Honestly, Y/N, his parents are still downstairs!” she scolds.

Felix, barely containing his laughter, shakes his head.

“I’m fine, Mrs. Y/L/N. She just doesn’t agree with my honeymoon choices, that’s all.” he says, looking like a perfect angel.

You shoot him a glare and say, “That’s because they’re terrible.”

“Oh, really?” he says, smirking as he stands up, brushing himself off. “I just suggested a few exciting options. It’s not my fault you’re so-”

“Felix,” you interrupt, your voice dangerously low, “I swear to God-”

Your mom sighs, looking between the two of you with exasperation. “I have nothing to say to you two. Felix, I need you downstairs in 10 minutes. No excuses.”

“Yes ma'am.” He says, giving her a salute and she leaves, shaking her head.

You let out a sigh of relief, trying to ignore the smug grin on Felix’s face as he plops back on the bed beside you. He's sitting closer now, it feels like he's trying to climb into your lap.

“Alright, love,” you mutter. “We’re not going anywhere with snow. If I’m going to be stuck with you, I’m going to need sunshine.”

He grins and says, “Ah, so you do want to wear the little bikini.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t hide the little shiver of excitement that courses through you. You point to the screen, settling on a gorgeous beach resort with crystal-clear waters and beach cabins.

“Happy?” you ask, trying to ignore the flutter in your heart.

“Oh, you have no idea,” he murmurs, resting his forehead on your shoulder. “I can’t wait.”

The look in his eyes is wicked, leaving you flustered.

The night before the wedding, you’re a wreck. You’re an anxious mess, and every time you close your eyes, all you can think about is the ceremony, the crowd, the vows… and of course, the part where you’re supposed to kiss Felix. In front of a hundred people. For the very first time.

Finally, at the end of your rope, you grab your phone and text Felix.

You: Are you sure about tomorrow? Like sure sure?

He replies almost instantly.

Lix: Why would you even ask me that?! Are you planning on ditching me tomorrow?

Lix: Babe? Y/N don't scare me like that!

You: No! No no no...I'm sorry.

You: I just...I miss you.

There’s no reply, and you regret having texted him. A fresh wave of anxiety hits you, when you hear a sound at your window. You look over, and there he is - Felix, grinning as he climbs in like it’s the most normal thing in the world.

“Oh my God, you’re insane,” you say, but you’re smiling as you rush over and throw your arms around him, his warmth enveloping you as he holds you tight.

“Can't let you freak out alone, you know,” he murmurs, his voice soft in your ear. “I want you to know that “I’ve never been this happy before. Marrying you… it’s the best thing that could happen to me.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you want to say something equally romantic back, but all you can manage is a soft, “I’m scared.”

His face softens, and he squeezes you a little before asking, “Of me?”

“No,” You sigh. “About everything else. All the people, they'll all be watching us…I'm scared about… kissing you…it's -” You feel your cheeks heat up, embarrassed to admit it.

“Ohhh,” he says, clearly enjoying your flustered state. “So that’s what’s got you all worked up. The kiss?”

He raises an eyebrow, cupping your cheeks with his hands. “Well, you know, if you need to practice, I’m here to help.”

Your heart jumps into your throat as he gazes at you with so much love and mischief.

“What-”

“Shh, just let it happen, ok?”

He inches closer and you can barely breathe as you meet his gaze. He tilts his head slightly, his eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips.

And then, he closes the distance, his lips soft and warm against yours. The kiss is gentle at first, so warm and soft, but then he leans in a little closer, his hand moving to the back of your neck as he deepens the kiss. Your heart is racing so fast you’re sure he can hear it.

This is real. This is actually real. You’re kissing Felix - your best friend, your almost-husband. And it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

When he finally pulls back, he’s smiling.

“Well,” he says, sounding a bit breathless, “consider that practice round one.”

You can’t help but laugh. He gives you one more soft, lingering kiss, and you feel a strange mix of excitement and calm wash over you.

“Tomorrow’s going to be perfect,” he whispers, his lips touching your forehead. “I promise.”

The wedding is a fairytale. A garden venue draped with twinkling fairy lights and flowers. But nothing compares to the way he gazes at you as you walk down the aisle, like he can’t believe this moment was real. The whole day is a dream - except when your mum cries and cries so hard, it makes you cry and it makes Felix cry.

Now, as the two of you step into your new apartment together, just you and him - you feel like your heart might just burst. You’re still in your wedding dress, the delicate lace and silk brushing against your skin as Felix closes the door behind you.

It's so silent and you can’t tell if the excitement or the nerves are stronger, but it feels like your skin is on fire.

Felix catches your gaze, that familiar smirk dancing on his lips, but the way he looks at you is so warm and soft. He takes your hand, leading you into your bedroom.

“Let's get you out of all this,” he murmurs, stepping closer.

You nod, more than happy to be free of it all. You watch him take off his coat, tossing it on the bed.

As you take off your earrings, you feel his hands move to your hair, slowly pulling out the pins that hold it in place, one by one. He’s silent, focused, his every touch so tender. Your hair falls loose, and he lets his fingers comb through it, smiling.

“You looked stunning today,” he says. “I really had to hold myself back so I don't embarrass myself in front of everyone.”

Your cheeks burn as you manage to giggle and say, “You’re such a flirt, Lixie.”

“Only for you, wifey.” His voice dips low, his fingers trailing down to the back of your neck.

Your hands are trembling slightly as he moves to the zipper of your dress, sliding it down slowly. The fabric loosens, and he eases the dress off your shoulders, letting it pool softly at your feet.

“Still nervous?” he whispers, his hands resting on your waist.

You swallow, nodding. “A little.”

“Hmm,” he hums, pressing a feather-light kiss to your collarbone. “Just be yourself, yeah? You're perfect.”

You bite your lip, the butterflies in your stomach going wild as he presses a kiss on your cheek, then one just below your jawline. Your hands grip at the fabric of his shirt, crumbling it under your fingers.

“Felix,” you whisper, feeling your face heat up as he teases a line of kisses down your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

And when he finally leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s so tender and achingly sweet, you put your arms around him, sinking into him.

The teasing glint in his eyes turns into something darker and he leans closer, his fingers brushing along your jaw.

"So, Mrs. Lee,” he murmurs, “How’s it feel to finally be mine?”

[a-hazbin-reader]

could you do something about how alastor gets jealous and how he shows it? Like what things would get him jealous and stuff like that and then how he would go about it? Thank you!

I guess I gotta- 🥵

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Alastor being a red flag, Wifey is into it even though she pretends not to be, A widdle suggestive

Description: ☝️⬆️

It doesn't take much to make Alastor jealous, he has a big ego to defend and doesn't like to share your attention

He also doesn't think a lot of people are worthy of your attention so that's a big part of it

Alastor is almost childish the way he acts out when he's jealous, it's painfully obvious even though he denies it every time

He sulks and acts out to get your attention back on him, doing anything he can to make you just look at him

He's rude and intimidating to anyone he thinks is flirting with you or trying to take you for themselves

After every incident, he tries to pretend like nothing happened and refuses to acknowledge his jealous streak

Can't people just understand that you're a married woman and that Alastor deserves all of your time???

Someone is talking to you and you're laughing too hard, cheeks a little too pink? Alastor is right there to sniff out any ill intention

"What's so funny, my dear? Surely you're not gossiping without me.."

He's wrapping a protective arm around you and kissing your cheek, eyeing the other person the entire time as he asserts his husbandly dominance over them

"Hm? Oh! He was telling me a funny joke about-"

Alastor takes a break from kissing your wrist and palm to snap his gaze to the other man, a wicked gleam in his eye

"Ohhhh! So you're a clown! Wonderful~! Your attire had me wondering what you do for a living, but now it all makes sense!"

The other person is visibly uncomfortable by your husband's unspoken challenge and backs out of the conversation with their tail between their legs

"I guess he had other things to do~"

You roll your eyes as Alastor nuzzles your neck, petting his around his ears and antlers

"You're are not a very subtle man, my dear."

You're dancing with someone who's not him? Alastor will physically shut that shit down

He spends maybe a full minute pouting and ignoring everyone else around him, eyes locked on you and your dance partner

"Alastor, are you even listening?"

"Out of all the women here, why did he choose MY wife? I walked away for one second, and he snatched her up!"

He doesn't care for how closely they're holding you, the way they blush and smile from your attention

Alastor isn't having it, striding over and using his hip to push the man away from you and off the dance floor, taking your hand

You're trying not to smile at him, pressing against your husband as you take his hand and dance with him

"Alastor, that was rude..."

He simply chuckles and spins you around happily, snapping his fingers to change the song into something more romantic

"I would say I'm sorry but we both know I'm not~ Besides, I waited for my chance to dance with you!"

It's hard to stay mad at him when he's looking at you like you're the only person in the world and holding you like you're something precious

It helps that he's so handsome, you can't help but lean up and steal a kiss from him, feeling familiar butterflies at the touch

"You've been dancing with me all night, and you barely waited a minute... you greedy demon~"

He leans into your hand as you cup his cheek, tail wagging from having your undivided attention again

"Is it a crime that I want to hog my darling wife? That I crave every opportunity to dance with her and steal the show?"

He's leaning in for another kiss, and it makes you instinctively move in closer to meet his lips

"It will be if you keep injuring people~"

And those are just some examples of people who weren't flirting with you, it's so much worse when someone actually wants you

You're waiting for your husband to meet with you for your date, dressed up and looking your absolute best

When you hear a sharp whistle from behind, only to see a sleazy looking demon towering over you and eyeing your body

"And just where do you think you're going looking like that, beautiful? My place is that way~"

He's much too close, placing a hand on the wall behind you in order to keep you from running, completely unaware of the danger he's in

You can't help but roll your eyes at the situation

"I'm flattered, really I am... but I'm not interested, I'm waiting for someone, actually."

You casually move out from under his arm, completely unfazed by the way his expression darkens as you fix your appearance

"Oh really? And just who might you be waiting for? Let me guess, your boyfriend?"

He doesn't look like he believes you, making air quotes around the word boyfriend

You can't help but laugh at the poor soul, putting a hand on your hip as you whip around to face him-

"Husband, actually~ My name is Alastor though maybe you'll recognize my other name! The Radio Demon~ Maybe you've heard of me?"

It's such a treat to watch the cocky demon lose his composure in fear and so sexy to watch your husband be the cause of it

The demon is so much larger than Alastor but he's practically cowering away from him, Alastor grinning at him as he tilts his head

"Look uh-I'm sorry! I didn't realize-"

Your husband tuts at the demon, antlers already growing as he morphs into his larger demonic form

You can't help but blush at how sweet Alastor is being, rushing to your rescue like this

"Didn't realize what? That you were hitting on my wife? You think I would just stand by and let you think you have a shot with her? She's much too far out of your league, unfortunately."

He's so cute when he's jealous

"Darling, do be quick with that? I don't want to miss our reservation-and no eating him! I don't want you to spoil your appetite!"

Alastor looks at you and visibly blushes at how good you look, the other demon simply an afterthought as he tears them apart

"My dear, you look absolutely ravishing~ How am I going to keep the other men from looking at you when you're so delectable?"

He's still humongous, a large claw reaching out to stroke your leg tenderly, a lovesick expression on his face

You can practically see the hearts in his eyes~ Smiling at your husband and blowing him a kiss

"It's a good thing that you're the only man I have eyes for then, isn't it?"

He shrinks back down to his normal size and kisses your hand before wrapping an arm around you as you two walk together

"It's something that I'm extraordinarily grateful for~"

You can't help but lean your head against him, letting him nuzzle the top of your head in an affectionate manner

"Though~ I wouldn't mind a refresher of just how much you adore me...~"

You can't help but snort at the comment, gently slapping his chest before pulling him in for a kiss

"Dinner first~ You'll need your strength~"

I might go back and change this one a bit ngl

[denpa-dere]

house arrest 1

afab!mc x mammon

description: NSFW, very fluffy, you are confined to your room for your own protection. But how long will that last when the only thing standing between you and your housemates is a door and some willpower? For Mammon, less than 24 hours.

warnings: Capital B breeding kink with talks of impregnation, afab reader with she/her pronouns, face sitting, dub con if you squint due to a misunderstanding. Mammon is a love sick fool for you.

|| Intro || Mammon || Asmo (mini) || Levi || Satan (mini) || Beel || Lucifer (mini) || Asmo || Belphie (mini) || Belphie || Barbatos (mini) || Satan || Diavolo (mini) ||

If there was anyone you could count on, it was Mammon.

Mammon, who was your first man.

Mammon, who was your partner in crime.

Mammon, who was practically crawling up the wall with need to be with you right now.

He pressed a pillow over his face and groaned into it. This was stupid. He felt stupid. You made him feel stupid. This morning, chaos swept through their home as soon as you rounded the corner. At first, you hadn’t noticed heads snapping one-by-one in your direction as you made your way to your usual spot at the table, serving yourself coffee whilst a dawning realization crept in amongst himself and his brothers.

When the atmosphere felt sufficiently suffocating, you looked up to find seven pairs of eyes boring holes into your skull. Mammon had wanted to scoop you up then and there, to hide you away in the safety of his room where you both could be alone he alone could protect you. 

He shook his head in an attempt to clear his mind. His knuckles ached from the hole he had punched through the dining room wall in the ensuing scuffle. He didn't want to think about it. Lucifer had already let everyone off easy, seemingly too concerned with how to tactfully explain your absence to Lord Diavolo to string anyone up for fighting. Besides, it's not like Mammon was actually angry with anyone. Things just got out of hand.

He just didn't like how they were looking at you. That's all. 

Only he was allowed to look at you like that. 

Mammon chucked his pillow at the floor, but it didn't satisfy the irritation welling up in his gut. Every nerve in his body felt like it was screaming to be closer to you. He wondered if you could feel it, too. Surely, your bond with The Great Mammon was strong enough that you could sense his distress, right? You wanted him too, right? That's why you let this happen? 

It's not like there'd be any harm in checking on you. You were his responsibility, after all. You were his human! He'd be quick about it, he reasoned. One quick trip to make sure no one was bothering you and he'd be back before Lucifer even noticed he was missing. 

By the time he finished that thought, Mammon was already half way down the hall. 

___

You jumped when you heard rapping at your door. It wasn't like anyone in this house to knock. 

"Human, it's me," Mammon hissed. 

You cracked your bedroom door, poking your head out to briefly scan the hallway for interlopers. 

"Mamms, what are you doing here?" You asked in a harsh whisper and yanked him by the hand into your room, "Hurry before someone sees you!" 

Mammon stumbled. Normally, he might have snapped at you for acting like you could push him around, but it was difficult to form words when he felt like he had been plunged headfirst into a pool of your scent. He had secretly always liked your smell, soft and sweet and indescribably you. It had taken on a headier shade, one that sank into his brain like an incense. There was something else, too. His stomach churned- Lucifer had been here, recently. 

Of course he had. So, why did that piss him off? 

"Mammon, you alright?" You called to him, louder this time. You looked so fragile, he thought, arms wrapped around yourself protectively. Surrounded by demons itching to take you apart piece by piece, right down to your pretty little soul, and you were asking if he was okay?

No, he wasn't okay. He waved you off dismissively, anyway. Mammon stalked off over to your bed to create some distance. He took a seat at the edge and began to pick at a loose thread on your comforter. 

"I should be asking you that," He mumbled, face heating up. You began to close the gap between you two, arms still folded over your chest. The closer you stood, the quicker his resolve for an altruistic alibi crumbled, until you were right in front of him, cupping his face in your hands in that way that shot electric currents down his spine and out through his toes. The same way you did back when you kissed him for the first time, setting him on this confusing track in the first place. 

"It's just me, Mamms," You soothed, brushing your thumb over his cheek. He wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his face in the swell of your stomach. The second-born grumbled something unintelligible and hoped you understood anyway.

A part of him foolishly hoped that visiting you would be enough to quell the terrible magnetic pull you had on him. Now, face pressed into the warm softness of your body, Mammon could admit he'd maybe let his greed lead him astray, again. 

His head felt cloudy. He nuzzled into your belly, nose pushing up the bottom of your shirt, and stared up at you with honey-blue eyes. You were so pretty, he thought, his pretty little human who waited so patiently for her man to come find her in her time of need. 

He wasn't thinking straight, letting his hands drift up and down your sides. It felt natural to hold you like this, to leave trails of goosebumps along your skin. A sensitive spot under your ribs drew a small whine from your throat and Mammon exhaled sharply. Don’t you know what noises like that do to him?

He tugged and you fell into his lap with a yelp. He was on you in an instant, nipping along your neck, hands up your shirt, nails scratching lightly down your back. Mammon rocked his hips against you, wanting you to feel just how hard you made him.

You sighed his name at the friction. The Avatar of Greed deigned not to answer, choosing to recline back against the headboard with you on top of him. 

“I don’t know if this is a good idea-” You weren’t given a chance to finish your concern.

He pulled at your shirt roughly, taking your bra off with it. He hooked his fingers into the elastic waistband of your sleep shorts and pulled them halfway down your thighs, pausing briefly to admire the wet patch spreading on your panties. Were you already so worked up for him? 

Mammon grabbed your hand, guiding it to the erection tenting in his pants. He moaned sweetly for you when your fingers grazed him. Please don’t stop now. You mercifully did not stop, instead deftly working to undo his fly and maneuver his bottoms off his hips. His heavy cock fell against his stomach, twitching and aching for attention. 

"C'mere, c'mere," He ushered you forward, gently guiding you, adjusting until you hovered over his face. He felt like he was losing his mind having you so close and couldn't resist placing a kiss on your pussy over your panties, groaning into the damp fabric.

You gasped, reaching for the headboard to steady yourself. Mammon crooked a finger into your underwear, pulling them to the side for better access. When you felt his hot breath ghost over your skin, you were already dripping. When he brought his lips to yours, you could have cried. He eased your weight onto him, drunk on your taste. 

"F-fuck, Mammon," You mewled. The hold he had on you rendered you powerless to do much more than roll your hips against his mouth. Each pass of his tongue through your folds teased something animalistic in him that at the best of times he'd be hopeless to describe. But he knew he needed you, and even this was beginning to not feel like enough. Determined to send you over the edge, the demon sucked on your clit and savored how you cried for him. 

That animalistic something in Mammon snapped like a rubberband. He couldn't wait anymore. Your body was begging to be bred and he was going to be the one to take care of you. You were putty in his hands when he moved to lay your back flat against the mattress. Wanting nothing between you, he quickly shrugged off his shirt, then fell forward to meet you in a needy kiss. 

A brief moment of lucidity flickered behind Mammon's eyes when you parted. Fuck, he loved you. He couldn't always say it, but he wanted everyone to know it. 

So, what could be more undeniable, he wondered, rubbing his cock against you, gathering the slick of your cunt, than making you swell with his child? A low growl rumbled in his chest when he pushed into you. You clung to him and he felt his heart burst. 

" 'll fuck you as many times as it takes," He slurred in your ear, "Fill you up again and again until…" Each word of his muddled thoughts was emphasized by a sharp snap of his hips against yours. He didn't understand why you had opted to choose him as your mate now, like this, but he was deliriously happy to give you what you wanted. As long as you kept looking at him like this, holding him like this, loving him like this, he'd give you anything. 

You writhed beneath him, one hand buried in his snowy hair, the other stroking his back, toying with his wings that fluttered with a mind of their own. This was the first time you had gone this far with him, but you could tell by how he pulsed and throbbed inside of you that he wasn't going to last.

"So good for me, treasure, you feel so good," Once he started babbling, Mammon found that he couldn't stop. His voice was low and intense in your ear, "Gonna' cum- feel so fucking good. Fuck, baby, please, I'm gonna cum, please, please-" 

Your velvety walls fluttered around him, causing his breath to hitch. He kissed you again urgently, tongue sliding against yours as he painted your insides white. He ground his hips against you, pushing his seed in deeper in the hopes it would stick. Mammon slowed, then parted from your kiss, a lewd string of saliva connecting you. 

The door clicked open. 

___

"Your shibari needs work."

Lucifer refused to look at you, tying off the ropes binding Mammon to the ceiling. 

"If you touch these ropes, you'll be who I practice on next," The first-born seethed. 

"Look on the bright side," You shrugged, "Only 5 more days to go."

"LEAVE."

[xinxiaogato]

— love at first thrust

summary. as an ambassador from mondstadt, your goal was to persuade the duke of fontaine’s underwater fortress (who reportedly had a herculean physique and an absolute bakery) to agree with your plan on improving international relations. the last thing you anticipated was for him to agree to you getting his rocks off.

love interest. fem!reader x wriothesley.

warnings. unedited, 18+ content (mdni), nsfw, cursing, masturbation, voyuerism, size difference kink, cunnilingus, fingering, name calling (slut), slight orgasm denial, skin biting, almost a handjob, angst (somehow) and comfort, mentions of murder, mentions of pregnancy, porn w plot, virginity loss, unprotected sex, p in v, fondling, rough sex, impregnation, bdsm (handcuffs), soft dom!wrio.

word count. 5,303.

note. my first time dabbling in smut… to whoever is reading this that somehow knows me irl, pls turn straight around ! you are referred to as “reader” by the way.

romance schmomance. how did anyone expect wriothesley to allocate time in his schedule for a lover while properly running the fortress of meropide? his grace was perfectly content with teasing his two tsundere subordinates, who refused to face their feelings for each other. besides, love appeared too complicated of a matter, as evidenced by the prisoners he overheard lamenting on a day-to-day basis about their marital affairs and unsuccessful endeavors in flirting.

but sigewinne thought otherwise, pestering him recommending that he seek a partner because not only would it fulfill his social needs but also satisfy his sexual urges (he scrunched up his nose every time she made that point). frankly, all the duke needed was his right hand, some lotion, and a thirty-minute break of privacy.

…so what was a pair of eyes doing from the staircase to his office, staring incredulously at him fucking his cock into his curled fist during the thirty-minute break of privacy?

keyword: privacy, meaning no one was supposed to be in his office during this time!

a few minutes earlier…

“ah, ms. reader, right this way!”

an eager guard ushered you to an imposing set of metal doors to which your house back in mondstadt paled in comparison. as the guard, who appeared to be a rookie, fumbled with the keys to the administrator’s office, you turned your attention to the rest of the surroundings that seamlessly blended together due to the lack of decor. rusting pipes ran from the bottom up in austere grandeur, and warm lights were scattered across the stronghold, illuminating the faces of the few dozen or so prisoners wandering around the open space. 

although the conditions weren’t all sunshine and rainbows (literally, since the fortress is hundreds of feet under the surface), serving time in the fortress of meropide was bearable enough to the point that some convicts continued living there even after their sentences were up. this was the piece of information that piqued your interest during extensive research into the nation of justice, as access to rehabilitative programs while incarcerated had reduced the crime rate there.

thus, there you stood, prepared to present the ultimate strategy for promoting bilateral relations to the administrator of fontaine’s correctional institution. in exchange for advice from monsieur wriothesley on how to reform mondstadt’s prison system, the two neighboring countries could collaborate on an event similar to that of the “neighboring nations congenial poetry gala” between mondstadt and liyue.

it made sense since both fontaine and mondstadt were renowned for their romanticism, and the only other thing you could offer from your hometown besides poetry and artistry was… wine, which you knew wouldn’t fly. no government wanted more drunkards bumbling down their streets than they already had.

finally, the guard pushed the doors open (not without almost popping a vein) and gestured for you to enter monsieur wriothesley’s office, and once you did, you averted your gaze to the spiraling set of stairs.

however, prior to making your presence known, strange… grunting noises from the upper floor sent a shiver down your spine and planted you firmly to the ground. rapidly, your mind swirled with a million possibilities of what the source could be. although the duke was allegedly benign, he was still a warden through and through. was he personally punishing someone for their misconduct?

it frankly sounded quite painful, and you were getting worried that you came in at a bad time. after all, you did arrive an hour earlier than scheduled.

…one peek couldn’t hurt, right?

then you’ll be able to determine whether or not he needed a minute.

curiosity killed the cat, and that cat was you. because after gingerly ascending the staircase and stopping to be able to peek just above the metal floor, you chanced upon a scene that not even your wildest dreams could conjure.

the black-haired duke’s coat was popped open, with the hem of his dress shirt stuffed between his lips to muffle groan after groan that flowed past them. for several long seconds, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the scars running down his neck and heaving pectorals, gleaming in a slight sheen of sweat.

and when you did manage to tear your eyes away, they instantly flitted past his abdomen (which needed its own place in a museum) to the sight of wriothesley’s large—and you meant large—appendage thrusting desperately into his calloused hand between his gargantuan thighs. a bit of precum dribbled from the tip, trailing down his length only to be pushed back up by his fingers and creating a frothy ring near the head of his cock.

you had to stifle a gasp behind your clipboard, trying to process what the hell was happening. the prison administrator and his little friend definitely needed a minute, so you quickly swiveled around to give them just that—only for the sound of his chair screeching backward to freeze you in your tracks.

“who goes there?” his voice boomed throughout the office.

shit!

your heels weren’t doing you much of a favor as you bolted down the staircase, but the adrenaline coursing through your veins overrode every inconvenience to get you to the doorway as fast as possible. however, you didn’t have the strength to budge the doors open (what were they made of? tungsten!?), and before you could even blink, wriothesley had you trapped between the only way out and his bulky figure.

“you thought you could get away?” he snarled, grabbing you by the shoulder (with the hand that was just wrapped around his dick, mind you!) to twist you around and get a good look at your face. your clipboard clattered to the floor, and you nearly screamed when his cock—which was somehow more enraged than he was—prodded against your stomach, making your insides feel like they were doing backflips.

you tried your best not to look at… it… as you spoke up to defend yourself. “sir, it isn’t what it looks like—”

“i think it’s exactly what it looks like,” he interjected angrily, thick eyebrows furrowed above a pair of piercing blue eyes. “what? did one of your fellow inmates dare you to snoop on the warden for blackmail? how many coupons did they offer? hmm?”

“inmates? coupons?” now your eyebrows were furrowed. “monsieur, if you could please let me explain!”

it took a second for wriothesley to regain his senses, and after noticing your foreign attire and trembling form, he retreated at once. “archons, i…” he stroked his face with his hand and covered his eyes, letting out a shaky sigh. “i’m terribly sorry. i thought you were one of them.”

“them?”

he nodded dejectedly in response before dropping his hand to the side and meeting your eyes, but this time, it wasn’t with indignation. “yes, a group of ill-intentioned people recently formed in order to unmask my secrets…” he had to look away for a moment before continuing. “...one of them being what i do in my office during lunchtime.”

“...oh.”

“as for you…” over his broad chest, he crossed his arms that could crush watermelons with one flex (okay, maybe you were overexaggerating.) “how did you gain entry into my office? it should have been locked.”

you cleared your throat. “a guard let me in.” wriothesley parted his lips to question that, but you were already one step ahead. “he seemed new.”

the warden managed to put two and two together, and a sense of dread began consuming him from head to toe. “you’re… the envoy from mondstadt,” he realized, a taste in his mouth more bitter than the tea he oversteeped this morning. “i must say: you’re a bit early.”

you replied with a light shrug, “the cavalry is expeditious.”

“right. that’s… great.” he gave you a tight-lipped smile. “could… could you give me a minute? i would like to make myself presentable so that i can give you a proper introduction, and… again, i want to apologize for having you walk in on something so vulgar. i’ll be sure to compensate for it in any way possible.”

your original plan from the beginning was to give this man a minute, but… the longer you stood in his presence, the more aroused you felt. he was really handsome, standing many heads taller than you and practically oozing with sex appeal. the tidbits about his appearance that you heard through the grapevine in mondstadt couldn’t hold a candle to the real thing. watching him jerking off earlier, there was definitely a moment when you wanted to replace his hand with your cunt.

pause.

this might be the only opportunity for you to break away from the perfect image you were constantly upholding. throughout your adolescence and young adulthood, you had trained to become a professional in your field and garnered copious experience in diplomacy so that you could obtain a high-ranking position in government. this caused you to miss out on a lot of the joys in life, including sex. that was the first time you had seen a penis in the flesh.

“did you say any way possible?” you inquired.

“of course, i’m a reasonable man. i doubt i’ll be opposed to anything during today’s negotiations.”

after a moment of hesitation, you braced yourself for an eternity’s supply of humiliation and let your last thread of sanity snap in two. you fell to your knees right in front of his throbbing member, which was still as hard as a rock.

“...then you won’t be opposed to this, right?” you murmured. in a bold move, you leaned forward to press your cheek against the side of his cock, all while maintaining eye contact with him.

wriothesley sharply inhaled through his teeth, blood rushing to his face as he took a step back. “what… what are you…!?”

but he wasn’t dumb. he knew what you were intending. however, this felt more like you were doing a favor for him when he was supposed to be doing one for you.

and do one he shall. 

in one frame, you were hunkered down on the floor in front of his grace, and in the next frame, you were being carried to the second floor of the office in his sinewy arms. you were in no danger of being dropped, but you clung onto his shirt regardless, squealing your head off and flailing your legs like a feral animal, which only added to wriothesley’s amusement.

“are you regretting your decision?” he asked, his lips curled into a smug smile. “i can always stop. just say the word.”

your heart was racing at a mile a minute as he kicked a coffee table out of the way and plopped you onto the couch. when he crouched between your legs, a sheepish you batted his greedy hands away and hurriedly shoved your thighs together. “wait, i… this is escalating way too fast!” you quavered. “are we about to…” do the devil’s tango? the pickle in the jar? the train into the tunnel!?

a gruff chuckle rumbled from his chest. “you were the one who initiated it,” wriothesley pointed out with a wolfish grin. “i’m just finishing what you started, mondstadter.”

“but i just wanted to help you with your… ‘problem’!” you shot back, cheeks rivaling the red of a tomato. “why am i suddenly on the receiving end!?”

“ah, that’s where you’re wrong, because this will help me with my problem,” the duke replied, tugging your pants down your hips to reveal your drenched undergarment. you instantly convulsed and buckled your knees as he pressed his thick fingers against your clothed pussy, and when he drew them back, a string of wetness extended from your underwear to his fingertips.

remember when wriothesley convinced himself that all he needed was self-love?

fuck that.

“your grace!” you cried out as he dove forward and, with his hands anchoring your thighs, began ravaging your clit through the fabric, his tongue swirling and swiping against it ruthlessly. you had not even a millisecond to breathe as your vision blurred from tears of unmitigated satisfaction. with little strength, you reached out to wrench at his dark locks of hair, which only spurred him on further to attack your quivering folds.

archons almighty, what would it feel like if he—

as if he was reading your mind, wriothesley peeled your panties to the side, and the roughness of his tongue along with his pointer finger sliding in sent your body into another realm of pleasure. if accidentally smacking the back of your head against the couch’s gilded crest rail wasn’t the reason you saw stars just now, then it undoubtedly had to be the duke’s skillful ministrations.

“you’re so responsive,” wriothesley murmured, his hot breath deliciously fanning your skin. you were going crazy from his nose nudging against your sensitive bud as he flattened his tongue to completely coat each and every taste bud with your essence, and his digit continued to slide in and out at an inhumane speed, coaxing more and more of your whines and moans. “fuck, and your slut pussy is taking my finger so well. how many people have gotten the chance to see this pretty view?”

pretty view? you mentally scoffed while struggling to keep your wits about. says him! not every day did a tall, dark, and handsome man lap at your arousal like it was his last meal! you questioned how he could even breathe down there.

“no, i… j-just… just you…” you managed between labored gulps of air, your cheeks flushed of color. “i… i’ve never… d-done this… before.”

in the midst of leaving a bite mark on the side of your thigh, wriothesley abruptly extricated his finger, which made your pulsating hole very unhappy. “are you saying this is your first time?” he asked in disbelief.

you nodded timidly. when he didn’t respond right away, you grew worried that he got turned off by your admission, but weirdly enough, he snickered.

“looks like we’re in the same boat,” wriothesley stated to your bafflement. having withdrawn his finger, he brought it to his mouth and sucked it clean of your fluids before returning to lightly thumb your clit using circular motions. you had to scoot away because how else were you going to speak clearly with him doing that!? 

“y-you’re a virgin!?” you spluttered, ogling down at this man like he had just grown a horn on top of his head. 

“way to rub it in,” he jeered at you in a mocking tone. “yes, i’m a virgin. what’s so surprising?”

“because… you’re you!” you stressed. “have you seen yourself in the mirror? it’s a crime for you to look like a sex god without having had sex!”

once again, wriothesley found himself enlivened by your visceral reactions. when an advisor informed him of a diplomat’s advent this week, the warden was ready to be bored to tears by another mundane businessperson. and could you blame him? a few weeks ago, an ambassador hailing from sumeru went on and on about an invention that they wanted to promote to the fortress of meropide’s inhabitants.

…that invention boasted a 41% success rate.

so imagine wriothesley’s gaping jaw when, the moment you bent your knees and voiced your offer, all of his expectations were chucked out of the window.

“‘crime’?” he echoed, followed by a husky chuckle. “i see what you did there. how does it feel to be in love with a criminal?”

a frown weighed down the corners of your lips. “hold on. i may or may not be succumbing to a criminal, but who’s saying i’m in love with one?”

“your body is telling me everything i need to know,” rizzley wriothesley crooned as he rested the side of his head against your thigh. “well, except for your name.”

“…reader,” you answered breathily. “my name is reader.”

“reader.” he nodded in approval. “well, reader, let me show you how we do it in fontaine.”

with newfound vigor, wriothesley mounted the couch so that he was now towering over you and interlocked his hands with yours, pressing them into the vermillion back cushions on either side of your head. as if he was communicating to you that you could no longer escape his advances, even if they became too much.

for some time, he gazed intensely at your blushing face, committing each detail to memory, before he bent down and connected his lips to yours. you tentatively reciprocated his tender kisses, moving your mouth in ways that were unfamiliar yet exhilarating, and shutting your eyes slipped the ground away from your feet and made you feel like you were floating. he let go of one hand to tuck a few loose strands of hair behind your ear, which grew into him absentmindedly caressing your cheek like you were made of glass. your neck tickled. your ear burned. every single touch felt like fire on your skin. every kiss was slowly melting your body into mush, melding your body with his. there was no longer a distinction between where you ended and where he began.

after you parted your lips to impart the permission wriothesley’s tongue frenziedly sought, it wasn’t long before the kiss spiraled into a battle for dominance—a battle you lost in the blink of an eye. you could taste remnants of yourself on his tongue from his previous indulgences, which successfully heightened how aroused you were tenfold. your free hand crept up and started kneading your breast through your blouse, your moans swallowed by wriothesley’s mouth.

when he noticed you began touching yourself, he pulled away to your dismay.

he really liked how you craned your neck toward him at the very end of the kiss when he disentangled from you, as though his and your pairs of lips were opposite ends of a magnet. he liked seeing you craving more.

he didn’t like that you were getting ahead of yourself.

“nuh-uh, love,” he whispered, pulling your wrist to the side. “that’s my job.”

wriothesley tugged the hem of your blouse up to expose your bra, and he whistled at the sight. “beige?” he just had to point out with a smirk, bearing a canine. “you really know how to rile me up.”

you internally facepalmed at morning you’s choice of wardrobe. “i was walking into this expecting to have a proper conversation, not to get laid.”

he cocked an eyebrow and suddenly went into business mode. “what was your proposition anyway?”

you couldn’t help but laugh out loud before grasping his large hand and placing it on your chest. “are we really about to do our meeting now?” you chided him.

“you and i are already ‘meeting’ in every sense of the word.”

an affectionate smile broke through your face, and you tugged the man forward by his red tie. “come here, you big hunk.”

wriothesley mirrored your warmth and captured your lips in a searing kiss before traveling down to pepper smooches on your neck and suckle along your collarbone, his teeth the paintbrush and your skin the canvas. he slithered his fingers into the confines of your bra and pinched your nipples to elicit more r-rated sounds from your mouth, and in the corner of your low-lidded eyes, you became very conscious of the reality that his dick would twitch every time you moaned.

anemo archon, forgive me for mine own sins.

“reader,” he gasped. he hunched forward and almost smothered you with his chest as you began to stroke his cock, a bolt out of the blue. you weren’t expecting him to display such a visceral reaction, so you halted at the base of his manhood (which your hand couldn’t even fully wrap around…)

“did i do something wrong?”

“no, not at all,” he affirmed strongly. “i think the problem…”

…was that the sensation of your touch felt astonishingly different to him greasing the pole. it was a shuddering ecstasy that sprinted along his body and unlocked the carnal desires he had kept stowed away.

the key to his dick heart was supposed to have been eternally lost at sea. that was something he was sure of. that was something every person who tried to get close to him was sure of. so he ignored sigewinne’s recommendations, he ignored the rumors of his impotence among the prisoners, and he tried to ignore the hot flashes that jolted him awake in the dead of night, reminding him again that he had always been devoid of love since the start.

but then you came prancing into his office, swinging that key around your finger.

wriothesley’s breathing became shallow, and he pressed his lips firmly into a thin, white line as he stared down at you. how were you shining so splendidly in contrast to the dull lights of his office? how did your frowning lips still look so kissable? how were you looking at him like you were seeing right through him?

he didn’t even know you.

was he deluding himself?

did sigewinne spike his tea?

should he keep going?

what if he hurt you?

a gentle tapping on his forearm hauled wriothesley out of his rumination. he realized he was sweating a lot.

“now i’m sure i did something wrong,” you said worriedly.

wriothesley swallowed harshly before shaking his head, his tufted black hair swaying from side to side. “no… the problem is that… i don’t think i can hold back.”

…

“then what are you waiting for?” you deadpanned. “are you into blue balling?”

wriothesley blinked. “uh, not necessarily…”

“then let’s do it on your table.”

…

“reader…” wriothesley covered his blushing face with the back of his hand. “has anyone told you how… forward you can be?”

a giggle bubbled from your throat. “i’m pretty sure my field requires me to be forward. is it a turn-off?”

“i couldn’t be happier,” he reassured you gladly, and you were soon swept up into another bridal carry. “i will warn you though. if you make a mess of my documents, there will be punishment.”

you smiled. “looking forward to it.” (hopefully, wriothesley didn’t notice he was already going to need new seat cushions after this.)

wriothesley set you down onto his hardwood table, your back toward him, and had you prop one leg up onto the edge, putting your pussy on full display for his enjoyment. he watched in a hypnotic trance as your fluids dripped like a leaking faucet, and he wanted nothing more than to plug you up and fill your needy cunt to the brim. the warden soaked his fingers in your juices to lather them over his shaft, but while he had one hand gripping your hip and the other lining his member up with your entrance, his muscles stiffened. you peeked at him from over your shoulder.

“blue balling bastard!” you almost shouted, but he appeared too distraught to be badgered.

“i don’t have a condom,” wriothesley moaned, falling forward and smacking his forehead against your shoulder. for the first time in a long time, he really wanted to cry. “i would have to walk over to the infirmary and grab one for us, but—”

“—i can’t wait much longer,” you two finished in tandem breathlessly, eyes fixed upon each other. in a matter of seconds, this became a pressing matter that left you and wriothesley in deep contemplation. two strangers—total virgins at that—were literally about to raw dog it. honestly, your parents would be bouncing off the walls over this since they always lamented their graying hairs yet shortage of grandchildren.

but wriothesley… you knew a man of his status was much too preoccupied with handling prison affairs as opposed to prison "affairs". although the iudex of fontaine would be anyone’s first thought at the word “justice”, the administrator of the fortress of meropide delivered his own fair share of justice to maintain order when fights broke out in corridors, to overlook the production of gardemeks, and to protect the peace he had fostered in this very structure.

these things were what made you hurriedly request an audience with wriothesley in the first place. his impressive accomplishments as the new leader of the stronghold were what brought the you from mondstadt to the him in fontaine. however, you now found yourself in a sticky situation that would burden wriothesley further if you two took this risk. a child between you and him… that hadn’t been in your agenda.

plus, the steambird would really get a hoot out of this. “breaking news: mondstadt ambassador walked into the fortress of meropide and walked out with a baby lump.”

so, you made up your mind.

“wrio—”

“will you let me come inside of you, reader?” he whispered against the shell of your ear, making your heart drop to the pit of your stomach. your vaginal walls automatically clenched around nothingness at the thought as you gasped and gaped back at him in bewilderment.

“what…? are you sure!?”

wriothesley nodded. “i-i promise, reader, to be a loving partner to you and devoted father to our child,” he choked out, his voice thick with emotion. “i’ve dreamt of having kids with the person i cherish so that they can grow up in a household where they feel safe, but… my greatest fear in life is becoming the monster that… th-that my foster parents were to me and my adoptive siblings.” his face went white. he could feel himself on the verge of vomiting, which he swore he had rooted out long ago. the scars on his body had never felt more painful. “i know that that belief is unfounded, but… i’ve been a violent person since i was a teenager. since the day that i… i killed them.”

“so if you do not wish to bear a child with a person like me, i understand,” wriothesley avowed, his eyes turned down in shame. “i can find other means to make you feel good, and i’ll just… go to the restroom to finish my business.”

you were finally learning about the warden's haunting backstory, sealed behind his assertive exterior. immediately, tears sprung to the corners of your eyes. you twisted your torso to cup his face with shaking hands and look him square in the face.

“wriothesley… you are so much more than your past,” you insisted earnestly. “are you not aware of how incredible of a person you are? of how many lives you have changed for the better? you couldn’t change the past, so you made it your life mission to change the future of every person who’s living and breathing in this stronghold right now. you converted your suffering into something that led to the liberation of many others’.” you gave him a wobbly smile through the tears streaming down your cheeks like waterfalls. “that’s why i wanted to meet you, wrio. i wanted to meet the man behind the operations, behind the smiles on these prisoners’ faces. so please… don’t ever think badly of yourself.”

as the color returned to wriothesley’s cheeks, the duke couldn’t look away from the eyes that sparkled up at him so brilliantly. it was mesmerizing. his heart had never felt this full, and he wanted it to be as close to yours as possible. without missing a beat, his arms wrapped around your body, lightly brushing against your nipples in the process and causing them to harden on contact. he pressed his entire frontside against your back, and you could clearly feel his heart pounding wildly against his ribcage (and his dick saying hi from between your thighs).

“you’re so good to me, reader,” wriothesley mumbled. “what did i do to deserve this?”

you laughed and caressed the side of his head. “i just told you, idiot.”

his signature smirk returned in all of its glory, and he trailed his hands down to rest on your hips. “hold onto something.”

“what? agh!”

your body lurched forward once wriothesley drove his cock into your sopping heat, every inch dragging along your walls until he reached your cervix and his pelvic bone was right against your ass. a guttural moan escaped as he remained perfectly motionless, reveling in the feeling of your pussy rippling along his length, and you clamped a hand over your mouth to mask the embarrassing noises seeping through. the pain was unexpectedly minimal, but now you had to deal with this enormous object penetrating you to your very core. and not a moment passed before he started pushing in and out of you, squelching noises rebounding off the metal surroundings as your bated breath was yanked from your throat. throughout wriothesley’s grunts of exertion, a moan poured past your lips at each thrust, his balls slapping against your puffy lips and the table legs screeching in reply. his hands slid up to mercilessly flick your nipples with his thumbs at a rate that engendered tightening sensations to build up inside of your lower abdomen.

“wrio!” you exclaimed, writhing in ecstasy. you didn’t think you could handle the pert beads on your chest being fondled in unison with him pistoning your cunt from the back for another minute. “wr-wrio…! hnngh… ah! i feel so w-weird… ah! nngh…!”

“it’s a good weird, yeah?” growled wriothesley amid nibbling on your earlobe. “i can tell by the way your womb is descending to meet my cock, just begging for my seed. and that’s exactly what i’ll give you.”

“nngh, i… i’m… a-agh!” you pathetically blubbered. a stream of saliva ran from the corner of your lips as he pounded into your tight channel with savage intensity, the whites of your glazed eyes beginning to show. “i-i think i’m gonna c-come…!” 

“shit…” he rasped, noticing the telltale signs of an orgasm building up in both of you. “me, too…” he roughly grabbed your chin, fingers digging slightly into flesh, so that he could witness your expression contorting with bliss as you reached your cusp. “i want you to take every drop of my cum, reader. every fucking drop until nothing but my essence flows from your depraved hole.”

you nodded and pursed your lips, overwhelmed by the persistent and passionate onslaught on your pussy that was utterly molded into the shape of his velvet-wrapped steel. “yes, p-please…! wrio, please shoot it inside of me!”

finally, wriothesley bit down on your shoulder and slammed home into your depths, burying himself inside of your womanhood while releasing thick ropes of semen. your muscles convulsed and clamped down onto his cock with a vice, milking it until he had emptied his balls completely. the light humming of the industrial fan above commingled with the heavy panting of the two bodies that have become one, drunk on the languid atmosphere.

“you’re so obedient,” he cooed, nudging aside a lock of hair that was clinging to your sweaty forehead, whereas you were still reeling from wave after wave of endorphins. as you endeavored to muster the strength to respond, wriothesley glanced down at his files freshly marinating in your juices. “well, for the most part,” he added. “what did i say about my documents?”

“i…” you scowled and snapped back at him haughtily, “i wasn’t trying to ruin them!”

his mellow chuckle resonated in your ears, and in the ensuing seconds, the sound of clinking metal pivoted your attention.

“well, you can’t argue that they’re illegible now,” he said, effortlessly restraining your wrists in handcuffs from archons knew where. you also came to the startling realization that his member hadn’t softened one bit since he came within your spongy walls. “and as the duke of the fortress of meropide, i must carry out punishment where i see fit.”

“…lord barbatos.”

“haha, i love you, too.”

(several days later, charlotte got her big paycheck after spotting another “meeting” between you and wriothesley behind café lutece.)

© xinxiaogato. please do not translate my work without permission or attempt to plagiarize it.

[lichenes]

I heard you were begging for Silco asks and I will take literally anything.

Jealous Silco or Jealous Reader (bonus points if Silco doesn't notice that someone is hitting on him)

I also feel like Silco would be an amazing dance partner/classical waltz style or some intimate partner dance but would only ever do it in private.

Silco with a reader who is maternal with Jinx ❤️

Smut or fluff, whatever you feel like writing I just want to treat that man right 👍

To all the anons that requested Silco i will be getting on that soon!! Now I present to you: Silco looking for a mum for Jinx, any takers?

This gif has such a fucking GRIP on me it's driving me insane. How can pixels be SO F I N E. Anyway per your request anon this is Silco x reader x (kinda) platonic!Jinx :D!! SILCO DESERVES SO MUCH LOVEEEE. I don't care if he commited like... actual war crimes, what does AIR mean to my LUNGS. CW: brief cursing!! not much besides that, pretty tame, kinda ooc.... sorri... wc: 1261 .  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚ .  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚

The Zaunite air was filled with an unrelenting heaviness. Each day, despite Silcos best efforts, the food was getting scarcer and people were more and more scared. It wasn’t ever too much. He could handle it no doubt. Right?

Jinx was sitting on his desk and talking his ear off.

She was enjoying her time with him while Silco was quietly taking care of some documents. Spending time together with Jinx was one of the few things he enjoyed in life. Sure, his unique appearance made many women drawn to him and most people in Zaun felt nothing but respect for the man but he never developed anything meaningful, anything… tangible. Aside from Jinx he had no one. 

The stream of words being let out of Jinx at, at least, 200 words per minute stopped when there was a knock at the door. “Come in.” Said Silco with his usual sombre tone. He always filled the room with a certain coldness few were able to tolerate or enjoy, for that matter. Sevika entered the room. “Someone wants to talk to you.” 

He nodded, giving her permission to let them in. 

During the conversation with whoever was sitting on the other side of the desk Jinx kept returning to the thought that brushed by her mind that morning. Shouldn’t someone as undoing as a daughter have a mother by her side? Jinx was good. Good at what she did, good at killing and even better at creation. She lacked the maternal hand that was supposed to lead her through life even if she wasn’t exactly aware of what she was looking for she needed someone to guide her through her life. 

On the other hand, Silco, the effective ruler of Zaun, didn’t have anyone to share the parental burdens of life with. The swooning crowd of power-hungry women in the city weren’t a good choice for a mother. Not for someone as unpredictable as Jinx. 

Jinx was convinced you fell from heaven for her, how could he not see it? A godsend perfect for what she needed.

The Last Drop was busy. People talking, the air stuffy with Zaunite tensions, dilemmas and the smoke being extruded out of the lungs of many. He noticed you before, an everyday woman, providing her parents with whatever they needed in their old age. He didn’t do many of the job interviews himself, his lesser henchmen took care of that, but the barkeep of The Last Drop was the person he came to care for. 

“You’re hired.” He said at the end of your chat.

You were used to people chatting you up while you were behind the bar, an additional drink, boredom or true infatuation were all at play here. Never… this. “What can I get you?” You said when someone took the only free stool at the bar. When they didn’t answer you so you turned around to check them out. If they were a danger to the well being of the people inside or the bar itself you’d rather they threatened the guards than you. 

What transpired was truly bizarre. You expected to see anyone here, Sevika in a foul mood, Jinx with a gun to your head or even one of the lesser lackeys of the many people running this city. Silco? Silco was last on your list.

You froze in place almost dropping the pint you were holding. Quickly you put it on the counter in front of the person who ordered it and turned your attention to him. He looked at you with an unusual intent, normally when you’d look over to his usual spot he’d be smoking and surveying the room with his ice-cold vision, today there was… need. 

You were stuck in place not being able to even utter a word in such presence. After a moment more of scaring you into an early grave he spoke. “Come to the back, someone will take your place for tonight.” Suddenly terror turned into anxiety. “Am I being replaced?” He only stood up and went around the bar to presumably accompany you there. 

Your heart was pounding and your hands were sweaty, this could be your execution you realised. Your mind was going a million miles a minute, combing through all your wrongdoings and if you were eligible for any pardon. 

He didn’t enjoy that scared expression on your face, he enjoyed them on most people with exception to Jinx and well… you. “Nothing to be afraid of, lady.” Said Jinx toying with her gun. That definitely didn’t mitigate your concerns. “She’s right.” Said Silco somehow appearing behind you. You jumped at his sudden intrusion into your personal space. 

Explaining what they wanted was certainly difficult. You had a lot of questions regarding your new position as a… babysitter for Jinx? You’d never say that out loud for fear of swift death. The payment was lucrative as well so you decided on accepting the offer. At the end of the talk you were more or less familiarised with what this job entailed, along with being a co-parent to Silco, you were to be on their beck and call, still you retained the position of the barkeep. 

As all people you were a bit afraid of Jinx. Looking at her she was inconspicuous, the braids giving her a child-like wonder look to her. Underneath you could feel a profound sadness sitting inside of her and you were determined to make this weird little fucked up family a happy one at least. 

You were happy to tend to wounds, look after The Last Drop when needed and listen to Jinx talk for hours. With time, Silco grew fond of you. Your mannerisms of a caring and doting parental figure, despite all which burdened you, would soon make him swoon. 

One night after closing when you were wiping down tables Silco walked in, in an unusually good mood. He leaned on one of the clean tables. “Hello. How was your day?” You asked mindlessly, not noticing him inching closer and closer to your figure. Nobody else was in the room when it all happened. 

You weren’t the best at concealing your growing affection towards Silco. The longing stares weren’t doing you any good and the fact that somehow he kept catching you was even worse. You were sure your position was soon to be terminated. 

He spun you around and caged your body between his own. His breath was warm and falling just over your chest. “Silco?” You dared. 

“You make me sick with worry sometimes.” He was… smiling? Silco was smiling? You couldn’t make anything out, your head was spinning from the proximity and his cologne. “Look at me.” He demanded grabbing your chin and tilting it upwards. “I’ve got a question.” You nodded. “Do you want to dance?” You were stunned.

The tables were moved to the sides as Silco put a few coins into the jukebox and began striding towards you with the delicacy and grace of a cat. You put your arm on his shoulder and grasped his other one. He led you around the room to the song being played and amidst the growing tension, brought his lips to yours, hesitantly. The kiss was magical, you could feel yourself rising above the roof when he finally closed the gap. You reciprocated the kiss and as the song faded away he put his hands on your cheeks trying to get as close to you as possible.

He thought he’d lost the spark and now, here you were. 

.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚ .  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚.  * 　　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .⁺ 　　 ˚ masterlist

[lizzyk137]

The Technical Analyst and the Boy Genius: Spencer x Reader

Summary: You finally get your dream job working as a technical analyst for the BAU, but one team member isn't happy you're there. Warnings: Angst, talk of death, guns, shootings, stomach wounds

Want to read more, visit my Masterlist!

Five years. It took you five years to make it where you are today. Five years of no sleep, constant anxiety and a need to get where you want to be.

You worked your butt off in school to get your many degrees, but your hidden passion was computer work. Getting into the many cracks that was hidden and searching for answers or for what was in the unknown. It was what made you so useful to the FBI.

Throughout your five years of working for the FBI, you had been with multiple units as a technical analyst, helping your coworkers save the day on different missions. It brought you more joy than you would have thought it did when you stepped into the FBI building all those years ago.

Within that time, you've joined your teams on and off the field helping, and you struggled with what you liked better, field work or office work. Either way, you were helping. So, when you got the offer to transfer to the FBI's BAU, though you were sad to leave your team, you jumped at the chance to work with the group that was your end goal. And that was because of one person.

Penelope.

You both had only met a handful of times, your schedules always opposite of each other and your work bringing you to different locations didn't help either. But she was your mentor and her word was gospel. It had started your first year at the FBI, you had hacked into her computers just for fun and since then you were best friends. And now you were finally getting to work right were you wanted to be.

"Oh my god, oh my god, it's you! It's really you!" Penn gasped out once she saw you make your way through the double doors of the BAU's bull pen. She squished you into a hug, disregarding the fact you had a huge box in your hand.

You laughed in her embrace and your free hand circled her back. "I know it feels like a dream!"

You stood there chatting for a second before a smooth masculine voice came from behind Penn. "I heard we were getting a new partner in crime, I didn't think she'd be this beautiful." He stopped besides Penelope before saying to her, "Not as beautiful as you, baby girl."

You smiled at the exchange between the two. You had done your research on the team, Penn suppling you with random lists she made of each member to help you get to know them better. "You must be Derek Morgan, it's a pleasure to meet you." You said, stretching out your one good hand to shake.

"You know me?" Derek chuckled, as he shook your hand.

"I've done my research." You winked at him before laughing.

"See, she'll fit right in." Penn said before grabbing your hand and introducing you to everyone.

--

Two weeks had flown by since you started working besides Penn. It was awkward at first getting to know the team and how each one worked, but you didn't mind. It was the awkward bits that made it fun. You had managed to nail down how everyone worked and what they expected, except for Spencer. He was upset at you randomly, bickering at the things you said or just wanting the news from Penelope. Rossi told you it was because he didn't like change, and not to take it personally. But as the days went by, it was starting to, not matter how hard you were telling yourself to power through.

It wasn't until a case that required you specifically was when he started acting differently.

It was a strange case, the UnSub would implant a virus into large computer server farms, where he would kill his victims by using flashing lights and noises through their computers to send them into a deathly seizure. The only way to rid this virus was to remove the discs that were implanted in person while also blocking it remotely from getting to people. It was a two-person job, and Hotch decided it was best to fly you out with them since you were cleared for field work.

Spencer wasn't thrilled and he made it known, Hotch sending him looks to shut him up when he started. You didn't mind when he wasn't besides you, you could ignore it like you used to when you had similar thoughts from people on your old teams, but when Hotch paired you two together with Derek that's when it started to annoy you and it just got worse as the day went on.

"Do you ever shut up?" You asked him that night at the police station. Everyone was trying to figure where the UnSub would strike next, but all Spencer could do was dismiss everything you'd say.

The room grew silent when you finally snapped. Derek and Emily biting their lips to stop from smiling because you finally stuck up for yourself.

"I don't care if you're a genius. You don't know computers like I do. If I were the UnSub, I would strike here. It's a huge server farm with plenty of rooms full of servers to sneak this virus in. He's gone with all smaller farms before and has been building his way up. He's cocky, and he isn't going to stop until he hits the biggest farms." Spencer stood quiet, watching you as you took a deep breath in before you tilted your head at him. "Oh, and did I forget to mention, I have several degrees in Psychology and Criminal Justice along with degrees in almost every field on computer work?"

The room broke out into chuckles, Spencer remaining silent. Rossi gave you a pat on the back with a small wink. "I think you finally broke him. Good job."

The next day, you were once again paired up with Spencer, this time alone. He was quiet as you drove and didn't say a word until you were at the farm when he grabbed you and whispered to be quiet.

You looked at him shocked, he wasn't one for physical touch, especially to new people and you knew it wouldn't happen with you with how much he disliked you. He pointed at the hallway that upon inspection had droplets of blood going down it. Spencer drew his weapon and stepped in front of you as you both headed down the hall to find a security guard leaning against the wall bleeding from several gunshot wounds.

Spencer called for an ambulance and back up before saying, "I'm Doctor Reid with the FBI, what happened?""

The man struggled to sit up so he could talk. You helped him up, pressing your sweater against his wounds. "A man came in, shot me and headed to our main server room. I tried to lock down the doors before he could get in, but he shot the control booth and shot me again."

You looked up at the control panel in the small room next to you. Spencer replaced your hands on the man's stomach and nodded for you to take a look. The panel was beyond fixing, the only way into the server room was to unlock it by hacking into the lock on the door. You looked back Spencer who was holding the man up as he reassured him help was on the way.

"The only way to open the room is accessing the panel box on the door. We're going to have get to the main room." Spencer nodded and helped looked at the security guard next to him.

"Tell me how to do it, you stay here with him."

"It's not something you can just figure out, it's something I need to do."

"No, Y/L/N. It's too dangerous, you're just an office worker."

You sent him an annoyed look. "I'm more qualified than you think I am."

"You may think you're qualified, but they didn't give you a gun. So, tell me what to do."

You looked at him and sighed. There was no way he could unlock the access panel in time to stop the UnSub and arguing back and forth was stalling you both. You could either give him the information and hope he figures it out or break away from Spencer and do it yourself.

In no way did you want credit or glory in taking down an UnSub, you just wanted to stop him. You didn't want him to take more lives than he already had, and this server farm was huge, and he could easily kill hundreds if he wanted too. Wasting time was ideal in this situation. You could have your badge taken away or be removed from the team, but you knew you had to try. So, you did the opposite of what the boy genius was telling you to do, and that was to sprint out of the control room, Spencer screaming for you to come back as you headed to the main server room.

You looked at the control panel on the side wall, pulling the frame off of it before plugging in your phone to it and taking over the controls. Your brain felt like it was on fire with how hard you were trying to find the specific number pattern to help your phone out. Once you figured it out you could easily hack into main control system and open the door. But you still had the UnSub to think about. He already shot up the security guard which he hasn't done before. So, you had to figure he was by the door, gun ready for you to come in. You were a few seconds away to opening up the door when an angry Spencer came running your way, his face red with anger.

You didn't have time to think, you just did. You launched yourself at Spencer, knocking him over as the door opened and bullets flew towards you.

Spencer was stunned with your body draped over his, your sweet perfume mixing with his woodsy scent. He watched you quickly get up, somehow dodging the few bullets that was shot at you before knocking the gun out of the UnSub's hand with a roundhouse kick before swiftly taking him the ground, his face smooshed into the ground. You looked like an angel and his brain couldn't comprehend what just happened.

The sound of footsteps heading his way and JJ leaning down to check on him brought Spencer back to reality. You single handedly stopped an UnSub with a roundhouse kick while saving his life a few seconds earlier.

Hotch quickly took over from you and handcuffed the UnSub. "Go, I got this."

You nodded and looked at the hundreds of servers in front of you, analyzing which ones could contain the virus. The team watched you as you figured which ones had it and how many there were. The rest of the day was spent disarming the virus, Spencer following you around as you went holding onto whatever you gave him.

--

"Hey, Y/N." Spencer's voice came from behind you as you made your way to the plane's stairs.

You turned aorund to find him staring at you, nervousness written all over his face. "Yeah?"

He cleared his throat. "Um, I just wanted to thank you for back at the server farm. You knew what needed to be done, and you were able to stop the virus before it could take another life. So good job back there."

A smile crept onto your face at how nervous he was to thank you. "No problem. I have anti-terrorist training from one of the old units I worked with. We profile and anticipate their next moves so it was pretty similar."

"You were a field agent?" He asked, as he made his way up the stairs behind you.

"Yeah, I worked on and off the field in my old units. It helps me from going stir crazy." You laughed and took a seat on the couch, Spencer joining you.

"Wow, and the karate?"

"Oh, I was a gymnast and did karate growing up."

The rest of the plane ride you spent talking with Spencer about your old units and your interests.

Emily looked over at Rossi and Derek before nodding over to the two of you. "Looks like they're going to be inseparable soon."

"Looks like you and Penelope have some competition." Rossi chuckled.

"Baby girl and I are going to have to step it up."

JJ tuned around in her seat to join the conversation. "Looks like Spence is already pretty comfortable."

The team looked over to see your head on Spencer's shoulder and his on rest on the top of yours, sleep finally catching up to you two.

Hotch sighed at the two of you. "Don't tell me I'm going to have to watch them too."

[yourmomsawh0r3]

I loved Juno! Would you consider writing more Glenn x pop star/reader? It was amazing 🤩

absolutely!! hope you love it !

Hot like fire

pairing:glenn powell x popstar f!

As the stadium lights burst to life and Y/N strutted onto the stage, she oozed confidence and allure. Her outfit was dazzling, hugging her figure in all the right places, and her movements were smooth yet powerful. The crowd went wild, the energy electric as she began to sing the first notes of her hit, “Hot Like Fire.”

“I’m burnin’ up, can’t keep it cool,” she sang, her voice smooth and sultry, her hips swaying to the beat. With every step and flick of her hair, Y/N commanded the audience, moving with a teasing confidence that had the fans screaming. She reached the edge of the stage, winked playfully, and ran her hand down her side, making the entire crowd erupt with excitement.

Glenn watched, completely captivated. He couldn’t tear his eyes away, mesmerized by the way she seemed to play to every person in the crowd while throwing sly glances his way. The way she looked at him during the chorus made him feel like he was the only person in the room.

The stadium was buzzing as fans filled every seat, awaiting pop star Y/N’s performance. Her sold-out concert had drawn massive attention, not only because of her talent and latest album but also due to the ongoing speculation about her rumored romance with actor Glenn Powell. The press had been buzzing for weeks with photos of them at events together, fans piecing together clues on social media, yet neither had confirmed anything.

After the final song, Y/N took a bow, grinning from ear to ear as the audience chanted for an encore. She threw one last glance into the crowd, where her eyes met Glenn’s. A small, secretive smile played on her lips as she raised her hand, giving him a subtle wave. It was barely noticeable to anyone else, but fans with sharp eyes caught it immediately.

Backstage, Y/N barely had time to catch her breath before Glenn was there, weaving through the crew, his face lighting up when he saw her. Without hesitation, he grabbed her hand, lacing his fingers through hers.

“Ready to blow up the internet?” he whispered, his tone playful but eyes soft with affection.

With a giggle, Y/N replied, “Let’s give them something to talk about.”

Hand in hand, they dashed out of the backstage area, ignoring the photographers who were quick to capture every step. Glenn helped her into his car, and before she knew it, they were speeding down the freeway, laughing and giddy from the adrenaline of it all.

They decided to stop by Taco Bell, both too hyped up to think about anything other than fast food. But as soon as they stepped inside, they were met by a group of fans who recognized them immediately, gasping in disbelief and pulling out their phones. One fan managed to get a video of Y/N ordering tacos with Glenn right beside her, laughing as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

Within minutes, photos and videos were posted online, and the internet exploded. Fans tweeted about seeing Y/N and Glenn at Taco Bell, speculating about their relationship status even more fervently than before. The hashtag #YNNGlennConfirmed shot to the top of trending topics within hours.

Meanwhile, Glenn and Y/N just laughed about the whole situation, eating their tacos and completely absorbed in each other. He leaned over, brushing a crumb from her cheek and murmuring, “Well, guess we’re officially out of hiding.”

She grinned, eyes shining. “Guess so. Ready to be my partner in crime?”

“More than ready,” he replied, giving her hand a squeeze as they prepared to face the world hand-in-hand, unafraid of what anyone might say.

As they finally made it back to Y/N’s penthouse, the city’s lights cast a gentle glow through the windows, creating a cozy, intimate vibe. Y/N kicked off her heels and let out a deep breath, still feeling the adrenaline from the concert. Glenn smiled as he watched her, clearly still mesmerized.

“Let’s get you comfortable,” he murmured, leading her into the bathroom. She looked at him, a little surprised but grateful for the gentle care in his eyes. With a soft touch, Glenn reached for her makeup wipes, holding one up with a playful smile.

“Allow me,” he said softly, moving closer. She closed her eyes as he delicately wiped the remnants of glitter and eyeliner from her face, his fingers grazing her cheeks. He took his time, making sure to be extra gentle, pausing to give her little smiles and whispers of how incredible she’d been tonight.

Once her makeup was off, he placed his hands on her waist and lifted her onto the bathroom counter, his hands steady and comforting. She chuckled, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and resting her forehead against his.

“Thank you,” she whispered. He just leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead. “You deserve it,” he replied, his voice low.

Moments later, they found themselves in the living room, wrapped up in blankets on her plush couch. She picked up the remote, scrolling through channels until she found Friends. They settled in, the familiar laughter and comforting sitcom vibe filling the room.

Y/N snuggled into Glenn’s side, resting her head on his chest, her arms tucked around him. His arm draped around her, pulling her closer as his fingers traced soft circles along her shoulder. They both laughed at the episodes, quoting lines and finishing each other’s favorite scenes.

As the hours ticked by, Y/N felt her eyes getting heavy, her head nestled in the crook of Glenn’s shoulder. His hand stroked her hair, lulling her into a peaceful state as the laughter on the TV faded into the background.

“Best concert of my life,” he whispered, glancing down to find her already fast asleep, a soft smile still lingering on her lips. And as they lay there, with the city lights twinkling outside and the cozy glow of her penthouse wrapping them in warmth, Glenn knew there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

[dreamauri]

♪ — 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥𝗦 𝗥𝗢𝗖𝗞 - part eight max verstappen x fem! driver! reader ( fluff ) series summary . . . when the lives of an f1 and wec prodigies collide, they find out they find out that they’re not that different and carve out a place for their selves in each others hearts. the commentators from sky sports call this puppy love

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Max was sitting cross-legged at the end of you’s bed, tugging on one end of a rope while Marshmallow, you spotted Dalmatian, gave it all he had on the other. Marshmallow growled playfully, his teeth gripping the rope as he crouched low, eyes shining with determination. Max was grinning, leaning back slightly to tease the dog by letting the rope slacken, only to give it another quick tug just as Marshmallow tried to make his move.

The game paused when you reappeared from the room service table, balancing two plates. She handed one over to Max, who glanced down to find a plate of kebabs, still steaming and smelling like a mouthwatering mix of spices. He blinked, caught off guard. He’d mentioned in a TikTok interview once that he loved kebabs, but he couldn’t remember telling you about it. She couldn’t have known . . . right?

You sat on the bed beside him, nibbling on your own food and looking entirely unbothered by the thought that you might’ve just exposed yourself. Marshmallow, on the other hand, was absolutely determined to ruin the peace, inching up next to you and giving you the most heart-melting stare as he eyed your kebab. She chuckled, shooing him off with your fork. “You already ate, mister.”

Meanwhile, Max was twirling his fork, glancing between the plate and you, and mustering up the courage to ask something that had been weighing on him. Finally, he spoke, his voice softer than usual. “So . . . what’s your mom like?”

You paused mid-bite, looking at him with a mix of surprise and confusion. She’d never really been asked that before. It was then, as you were processing the question, that Marshmallow seized his chance. With a swift, triumphant chomp, he snagged a piece of kebab off your fork and trotted proudly over to Max’s side, plopping down as if Max had been his partner in crime.

You huffed, laughing softly as you watched your dog munch away before turning your gaze back to Max. “Well . . . I wouldn’t really know,” you started, your voice carrying an edge of practised nonchalance. “My mom was young, barely eighteen when I was born. I guess you just weren’t ready to handle it, so . . . you didn’t.” you tried to brush it off with a shrug, focusing on the flickering TV screen instead. “It didn’t really matter, though. My dad was always there, and I had Fernando, Carlos, Jenson . . . I grew up surrounded by people who cared. I was happy.”

A comfortable silence settled between them, each taking bites from their plates, and for once, Marshmallow seemed satisfied as he sat curled up by Max’s feet, licking his chops. you glanced back at Max, curiosity pricking at her. “Why’d you ask?”

Max hesitated. He didn’t want to admit he’d overheard Carlos mention it to Lando; he didn’t want to make you feel awkward. So he simply shrugged, offering you a gentle smile. “I know your dad pretty well, but your mom? Not so much. I get it, though,” he added softly, his gaze dropping to his plate. “In a way . . . I think we’re kind of similar. We both had parents who—weren’t really there in the way we needed.”

His words hung in the air for a moment, and you felt a surprising warmth bloom in your chest. She gave him a small, appreciative smile, inching a little closer until you could lean your head against his shoulder. You watched TV in silence, the show barely registering as you both sat in a quiet, shared understanding.

You ate in easy companionship until you suddenly remembered your conversation with Lando from earlier. You sat up, your eyes bright, catching Max mid-bite.

Max blinked, pausing as he chewed, his fork halfway to his mouth. “What’s up?”

She bit your lip, and without thinking twice, you asked, “Can I kiss you again?”

Max nearly choked on his kebab, swallowing quickly. “Uh, my mouth’s full of kebab, but . . .” He grinned, wiping his mouth on his wrist. “Sure. Please.”

He leaned in, giving you a quick, playful peck as you giggled, and for the first time, Max felt like he could happily sit here, lost in your laughter, for as long as you’d let him.

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“Is that guy serious?” you groaned, easing off the throttle as the black Alpine in front of you sluggishly took the corner, red lights flashing, his car creeping around the track like it had all the time in the world. You abandoned your fast lap, grip tightening around the wheel as frustration boiled over. “Is he fucking—who is it? Who’s number 31?”

“That was Ocon—”

“Ocon?” you cut off your engineer, voice sharp and incredulous. “Really? Is he serious with me right now? Again?” You sped past the Alpine, flipping the driver off as you zoomed down the straight, jaw clenched so hard you swore you could feel it in your temples.

Your radio crackled back. “That’s P15 for tomorrow, Yn. P15.”

“Great,” you shouted, sarcasm seething through your voice as you pushed the car into the pits. Every turn, every acceleration suddenly felt meaningless. You were stuck now. “That’s it? I’m done?”

“Yes, confirm. That is P16 for tomorrow.”

“Fucking hell.” The words hissed out before you could stop them, anger rushing like adrenaline in your veins. The second you pulled into the pits, you pulled your helmet off, ripping it free of the wires, and hopped out. As you strode over to your team, you could feel the weight of that disappointment pressing down, hard and relentless. Ocon’s little maneuver had cost you everything you’d worked for in qualifying, and now you were looking at a dismal starting position because he decided to mess around.

As you hit the weigh station, getting through the post-session formalities, you felt the simmering anger twist into something even sharper. And what made it worse was everyone around you treating you like a ticking time bomb that they needed to defuse. “Just calm down, Yn, it’s all right,” someone coaxed, a hand patting your shoulder gently. “Deep breath, all right?”

It took every ounce of self-control not to scream. You didn’t need their calm words, didn’t need to be handled like you were on the verge of a meltdown. They didn’t seem to understand that it wasn’t okay, that losing your lap to an unnecessary block wasn’t something you could just brush off.

In the end, Ocon had done exactly what he wanted, securing his teammate’s spot in Q3 while shoving you down the grid. You could feel your fists clenching, the need to release all this pent-up frustration itching under your skin. Your PC stayed glued to your side as you made your way toward the briefing room, but your mind was still racing, stuck on that Alpine. If you saw Esteban after the debrief, he’d better have his helmet on—because right now, every thought you had involved giving him a piece of your mind and then some.

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direct messenges: Max + YN

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‘Finally’, Charles thought as he leaned his folded arms on the back of your sim chair, watching you do a few laps on the circuit. You smiled a little when he unconsciously commented on what you should do differently, glancing up at him. “I think I know what I’m doing, Leclerc.” You joke, turning off the sim and scribbling your quiet time somewhere.

“But this is the first time you’ve driven here since 2017.” He reminds you, smiling down at you as you stand up. “I’ve also won here a few years ago.” If it was up to Charles, he’d let himself get lost in your eyes and melt at the sound of your sarcastic laugh, or the way you patted his chest before walking out. His eyes followed you as you regrouped with Carlos’ PR to prepare for the media pen, overhearing how your goal for tomorrow would be gaining points for the team, the same words you’ve said last weekend.

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The start of the race had been a chaotic mess, with red flags and yellow flags throwing half the field off their game. But for you? It was a godsend. Each restart and caution felt like another opening, and you seized every one with a focus sharper than any you’d felt in weeks. Bit by bit, you clawed your way through the pack, pushing the limits of your car, finding every possible inch of track space until you found yourself in P2, just one position away from Max. And from there, the real chase began.

For the next grueling stretch, you stayed glued to his tail, pushing him to his absolute limit. You could almost imagine him there, jaw clenched, eyes narrowed, knowing that one slight slip would cost him the lead. You were pushing him so hard, it felt like a game of chess at breakneck speeds—one where every maneuver, every millisecond counted.

Your engineer buzzed into your ear. “You’re gaining, Yn. Keep the pressure.”

“Copy,” you muttered, eyes locked on Max’s car just meters ahead. He was fast, but you had DRS in your back pocket, an advantage you let linger, savoring the chase. You didn’t need to pass him yet; you just needed to keep him pushing harder, faster, to build that gap. And it was working. The two of you were so far ahead of the rest of the field now that it felt like your own private battle.

Each time the DRS opened, you felt the adrenaline kick harder. You could pass him whenever you wanted, but where was the fun in that? You’d wait until the moment was perfect. Finally, with Logan Sargeant’s car ahead, you knew it was time. You opened DRS, overtaking Max with precision, your car slicing past his like it was second nature. Your heart surged as you glanced at him in the mirror, the split-second look of determination in his eyes making you grin.

Now in the lead, you latched onto Logan, using his DRS to bolt ahead and create an impossible distance for Max to overcome. Each corner, each stretch, you could feel the power surging through you, knowing you’d not only taken the lead but had crafted a strategy that made it near impossible for him to catch you. Logan played his part well, too; after you overtook him, he got DRS off you, towing along behind you as you both surged forward. Watching Logan gain positions behind you almost felt like poetic justice.

It wasn’t until you reached the back markers that you glanced in your rearview mirror, expecting Max’s car to be right there, as relentless as he always was. But he wasn’t there.

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The crowd was roaring, a deafening symphony of cheers and applause, but you were hardly aware of anything except the pounding of your own heart. You stood on top of your car in Parc Fermé, fists raised to the sky, just like your dad used to after each of his wins. The moment felt surreal, as if it wasn’t just yours but his too, echoing through time. Closing your eyes, you could almost hear his voice, proud and booming, “You did it, kiddo.”

When you finally hopped down, the first person you spotted was Fernando. Without thinking, you sprinted toward him, leaping into his arms, your heart bursting with the joy of the moment. His hands pressed into your back, holding you close as his voice broke, thick with emotion. “I knew you could do it! I’m so proud of you!” The warmth of his embrace wrapped around you like a protective shield.

Pulling back, you caught the glisten of unshed tears in his eyes. His expression said everything his words couldn’t—this victory was more than a trophy; it was a piece of the past you’d resurrected. You couldn’t help but smile, a mix of joy and bittersweet nostalgia bubbling up inside you. “I felt him with me out there, you know?” you confessed, your voice soft.

As you reveled in the moment, somewhere in the crowd, Max was trying to make his way to you. His eyes darted through the throng, heart racing at the thought of celebrating your win together. He clutched a hair tie in his hand, a little memento from last night—a way to keep your hair back amid the whirlwind of the podium. But before he could reach you, a firm grip yanked him back by his shirt. Carlos stood there, his expression a silent warning that conveyed, Not now. Max froze, understanding the message, but the urge to congratulate you burned stronger than ever.

You were blissfully unaware of the tension, moving on to greet Susie Wolff, who pulled you in for a warm embrace. “Thank you, Yn,” she whispered, her voice filled with sincerity. “You’ve shown that it’s possible. We always knew it was, but now everyone else knows it too.” Her words settled deep within you, pride blooming like a flower in spring, the weight of her admiration lifting your spirits even higher.

Next came the Sainzes—Carlos Sr. wrapped you in a bear hug, his smile radiant, soon joined by Carlos Jr. and Fernando, pulling you into a warm, all-Spaniard embrace. Their laughter mingled with your own, a shared joy that felt like family. “You’re a legend now, Yn!” Carlos Jr. declared, beaming. “Next, we’ll need to build a statue!”

When it was time for your post-race interview, you spotted Jenson waiting with a grin, microphone in hand. But before he could say a word, you charged forward and threw your arms around him. He laughed in surprise, the warmth of your embrace catching him off guard. “Didn’t… didn’t expect that!” he exclaimed, patting your back awkwardly. Pulling back, you could see the amusement dancing in his eyes, and for a moment, the nerves and adrenaline of the race melted into pure joy. “You really stole the show today, didn’t you?”

Finally, you climbed onto the podium, greeted by the deafening cheers of the crowd below. Mark Webber handed you the trophy, his eyes twinkling with pride. You hugged him tightly in thanks, feeling the warmth of his support. Taking a deep breath, you held the trophy close, leaning in to spit on it before kissing it, a ritual honoring your dad. As you lifted it high, tears pricked your eyes, the weight of the moment crashing down on you. This victory was yours, but it was his too, and you wished he were here to see it.

Before you could gather your thoughts, a jet of icy champagne hit your shoulder, and you yelped, spinning around to see Lando grinning mischievously, the bottle in hand. Laughter bubbled out of you as you grabbed a nearby bottle, spraying him back with equal enthusiasm. “You’re going to pay for that!” you shouted, both of you drenched in the celebratory chaos.

Once the festivities quieted, you sat down on the edge of the podium, the trophy still cradled in your arms, letting the crowd’s cheers fade to a distant hum. The reality of it all was slowly settling in, the magnitude of what you’d achieved filling every corner of your mind like a warm glow.

Then you felt a presence beside you. Charles plopped down on one side, ruffling your hair with a proud grin. “Look at you, superstar,” he said, unable to hide his admiration. On your other side, Lando joined you, patting your back. “I knew you could do it! The legend of Yn Ln begins now!” The three of you sat there in comfortable silence, gazing out at the sea of fans, feeling the victory settle into your bones, the warmth of friendship and accomplishment wrapping around you like a cozy blanket.

“Have you guys heard from Max?”

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The sun dipped low on the horizon, casting a golden glow over the superyacht as the drivers celebrated the Australian Grand Prix victory. Laughter and music floated across the water, mingling with the soft sounds of waves lapping against the hull. You arrived fashionably late, the buzz of excitement already palpable in the air. As you stepped aboard, the chatter momentarily faded, and all eyes turned to you.

“Ladies and gentlemen, your Australian GP winner!” Lando’s voice rang out, booming over the crowd like a proud announcement. Cheers erupted, a chorus of claps and whoops filling the air, and you couldn’t help but laugh as you raised your trophy high above your head, the gleam of victory shining in your eyes.

“Thank you, thank you!” you called out playfully, the thrill of the moment making your heart race. The warmth of the celebration enveloped you, and as you mingled with your friends, you noticed Lando leaning against the railing, a playful scowl on his face. He shot you a stink eye, as if to say How dare you win before me?

With a grin, you sauntered over, wrapping your arms around him. “What’s wrong, Lando? Jealous?” you teased, planting a quick kiss on his cheek, your lips brushing against his skin. He feigned annoyance, but you could see the corners of his mouth twitching upward despite himself.

“Just surprised you didn’t trip over your own trophy on the way here,” he shot back, but the light in his eyes betrayed him. You giggled and hugged him tighter, savouring the moment before excusing yourself. “I need to find Max,” you said, waving as you slipped away from the group.

Navigating through the crowd, you spotted Max in a quiet corner, leaning against the wall with that familiar, soft smile. As you approached, his eyes lit up, warmth radiating from him like a cozy fire. Without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight embrace.

“Hey, you,” you greeted, your voice a whisper amidst the sounds of the party.

“Hey yourself,” he replied, his eyes glinting with admiration. He reached up, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “You were amazing out there today.”

“Congratulations, Yn,” he murmured, his voice low and full of admiration. His honey-brown eyes softened as he looked at you, and you felt a flutter in your chest at the intensity of his gaze. It was as if the world around you faded, leaving just the two of you in your own little bubble.

“Thanks, Max,” you replied, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes. “It means a lot coming from you.” You could see the pride written all over his face, and it filled you with a sense of warmth.

He reached up, his fingers gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and your breath caught for a moment. “You look amazing up there. Like a true champion,” he said softly. Then, with a playful glint in his eyes, he added, “Not that I’m surprised or anything.”

“Did you have fun out there?” he asked after a moment, his voice low and soft, filled with genuine interest. You could feel his warmth radiating through you, those honey feeling blue eyes melting any lingering stress.

“More than I ever expected,” you replied, pulling back slightly to meet his gaze. You couldn’t help but admire how the moonlight caught his features, making his smile even more captivating.

In a moment of tenderness, he gently lifted a stray lock of hair from your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb. Then, with the hair tie he had saved from earlier—more like stole from your room from when you two had dinner together—he deftly gathered your hair into a loose ponytail. “There,” he said, satisfaction evident in his tone. “Now you’re ready to celebrate.”

You chuckled, warmth flooding your cheeks. “You’re the best, Max.” Your eyes locked, and for a heartbeat, the world around you faded, leaving just the two of you in your own little universe. The noise of the party felt like a distant echo, the laughter and music muted by the magic of the moment.

“You know where the Red Bull fridge is?” You ask, taking his hand and pulling him to the rest of the party.

“You are an addict.” Max laughed as he followed along.

As the celebration continued, the music pulsed in the background, but you found a cozy corner on the yacht, curling up on a plush couch with your trophy nestled against your chest. You were half-awake, a blissful haze of exhilaration and a few too many drinks swirling in your mind. The trophy felt heavy yet comforting, a tangible reminder of your victory and the legacy behind it.

Max wandered through the yacht, searching for you among the revelers. Spotting your familiar figure sprawled out on the couch, a gentle smile spread across his face. He quietly made his way over, sitting beside you, careful not to disturb your peaceful slumber. His fingers instinctively reached out, brushing through your hair with a tender, soothing motion.

You stirred slightly at his touch, eyes fluttering open to find him gazing down at you with a soft, affectionate expression. “Hey,” he said quietly, as if afraid to break the tranquility of the moment. “What are you doing down here all alone?”

“Mmm . . . just reminiscing,” you mumbled, your voice thick with sleepiness. “It’s just . . everything feels so unreal.” You shifted slightly, hugging the trophy tighter as a sleepy smile spread across your face. “I was thinking about my dad.”

Max’s heart softened at the mention of your father. “What about him?”

You took a deep breath, the memories flooding back, sparkling with nostalgia. “You know how the Australian GP was always our favorite? We used to come here every year.” A giggle escaped your lips, your mind drifting back to sun-soaked days. “He would always say, ‘This is where legends are made, Yn!’ and I would dream about being on that podium one day.”

Max listened intently, his fingers still weaving through your hair, his gaze locked onto your face as you spoke. “We’d spend the whole week surfing, chasing the waves. He’d push me to go bigger, to not be afraid. I can still hear him cheering for me, ‘Go on, my little champion!’” Your eyes sparkled with fondness, but there was a hint of sadness that Max caught.

“Did you surf today?” he asked gently, wanting to keep the conversation flowing, to draw you deeper into those cherished memories.

You shook your head slowly. “Nah, I didn’t. Too busy racing, I guess.” A small laugh escaped you. “But it doesn’t matter. I feel like I brought a piece of him with me today. Winning here... it’s like I finally made it happen. I know he’s proud.”

Max’s heart swelled as he absorbed your words. “He is, Yn. You did something incredible today. I could see it in your eyes out there.” He brushed a thumb against your cheek, his gaze unwavering. “You’ve honored his legacy.”

You leaned into his touch, the warmth of his hand grounding you. “Thanks, Max. I really needed this. You have no idea how much it means to me.”

In that quiet moment, as you shared your memories, a profound connection blossomed between you two, weaving your past into the present. Max leaned a little closer, whispering softly, “I’ll always be here to remind you of how amazing you are. You’re more than just a champion—you’re a force.”

With a sleepy smile, you closed your eyes again, allowing yourself to drift off once more, comforted by his presence. The gentle rhythm of his fingers in your hair lulled you into a peaceful state, the chaos of the party fading into the background as you felt safe, cherished, and deeply understood.

[seoulmatez]

— 𝓂𝒾𝒹𝓃𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝓈𝓃𝒶𝒸𝓀 ౨ৎ

miya atsumu x reader. 0.8k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ fluff ﾉ papa!atsumu ﾉ repost!

a/n: another drabble for father's day — atsumu's turn! here's kuroo's version if u wanna give it a read :3

in the dead of night, something is making noise.

at the muffled racket, atsumu shoots up with a start. he’d blame it on his years of being a father, but during moments like these, atsumu is glad that he’s become a light sleeper. he turns to his right to see if you too had heard the noise, but you’re still sound asleep. after spending nearly an entire day with the kids, he can’t say he’s surprised to see that you’re out like a light.

tossing the comforter aside, atsumu stands up. his eyes begin to adjust to the darkness as he makes his way to the bedroom door. slowly—quietly—his hand takes a hold of the knob, pulling it towards him. the first thing he notices is that the door across from yours is open. he definitely closed it on his way out after putting the kids to bed. panic floods his chest at the thought of an intruder in his children’s bedroom, but the feeling quickly subsides once the strange noise returns. because it isn’t a strange noise, it’s a small voice—two small voices.

“help me!”

“shh! you gotta be quiet.”

atsumu steps out of the room, quietly padding down the hallway. he stops just before the kitchen and right out of their sightline to get a look at the show. the two have dragged a chair from the table and positioned it in front of the counter. as her brother holds the chair steady for her, the little girl climbs up on the piece of furniture. it makes atsumu anxious to see them so comfortable with the lousy set-up, but he’s more than ready to jump into action if it even looks as though she’s losing her balance.

“i can’t reach,” she pouts. her eyes find their way to the counter as if she is considering climbing on it.

“move, i got it.”

“no, i want to.”

“just move,” the boy tugs at the girl’s pajama shirt.

“no!”

atsumu’s first instinct is to chuckle at how quickly they turn from partners in crime to adversaries (it reminds him of another set of twins), but it’s better that he puts an end to their bickering before the two get into it further and someone ends up hurt. atsumu clears his throat to gain their attention.

their heads whip in his direction, two pairs of wide eyes identical to his own staring back at him.

“what are you rascals up to?”

“nothing,” they say in unison.

“really?” atsumu uncrosses his arms and makes his way over to the twins. “because it looks like you’re trying to get into the snack cabinet.”

he holds his arms out to his daughter. with a sigh, she grabs onto him so he can safely lower her down from the chair. the kids stand beside each other—obviously not too happy that they were caught. he wonders if this was the sight his mother was met with when he and osamu got into any sort of trouble.

“so, were you?” he questions. of course, he already knows the answer.

“maybe,” the boy confesses.

“only ‘cause we didn’t get one after dinner,” his sister quickly adds.

after telling you and atsumu how excited they both were to have received holiday treats in school, you both decided that they could go without their regular after-dinner snack for a night. he wonders just when the two of them started formulating this little plan of theirs. the smart little things even knew to wait until they thought you and atsumu were asleep.

“well, you already brushed your teeth for the night and it’s late, so you can’t have any sweets now.” both of the faces before him are painted with dejected frowns. he’s never liked seeing their lips turned downwards, but he has to be firm with this. though, that doesn’t mean he can’t strike a negotiation.

“but if you go back to bed now and don’t cause any trouble tomorrow, you both can pick out two snacks after you eat dinner.”

their eyes light up with joy at the thought of extra sweets. they don’t need long to think about accepting the deal. they turn on their heels, ready to return to their beds, but atsumu grabs both their hands before they can run off too soon. “one more thing.”

they stop in their tracks, seemingly exasperated that he isn’t allowing them to hold up their end of the deal. atsumu squats down to their level, each of his hands resting on top of their heads. 

“promise dad you won’t go climbing chairs on your own anymore. it’s not safe.”

the kids turn to look at each other before nodding their heads. “we promise.”

“good.” he scoops them both into his arms. they’re getting so big but atsumu won’t let that stop him from carrying them around like they’re still tiny, like they’re still the little babies he brought home from the hospital all those years ago. he plants a kiss on each of their cheeks. “now let’s get you gremlins back to bed.”

thanks for reading! reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

[reidmarieprentiss]

Bridges to Belonging

Part One Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven

Summary: Spencer struggles with being lonely, the team goes out for drinks.

Y/n is not in this part, but she is talked about ;)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: Slight angst, backstory

Warnings/Includes: mentions of virginity (16+), feelings of being lonely, teasing from friends

Word count: 1.8k

a/n: i whipped out part two quick as fuck boi ,, i actually really like this story and will definitely be making it multiple parts! i tried really hard to capture the characters personalities, please lmk what you think!!!!

main masterlist

Spencer Reid was not a loner. He had plenty of friends, his mother and her care team, his teammates at the BAU, the friendly old bookkeeper at the library, the nice young barista who made his coffee just right, and not to mention the hundreds of characters on his favorite shows and in his books. 

However, Spencer was lonely. He came home to an empty apartment every night, woke up to an empty bed, and shared experiences with only his journals. Each night, the silence of his apartment seemed to grow louder, echoing the emptiness he felt inside. The walls, lined with books, stood as silent companions, offering knowledge but no comfort.

Spencer desperately wanted someone to spend his time with, and talk about his day with, discuss his readings, and findings with. He just wasn’t all that good at sparking conversation with people, especially people who hadn’t committed crimes or needed help understanding material. He could talk someone's ear off about his interests, but those weren’t usually shared by people of interest. 

Morgan had suggested he try online dating, if only to practice talking to potential partners before stepping out and trying again in the real world. Spencer despised this idea, the thought that people were now giving up face to face contact to seek love on the internet hurt his brain. It’s not that he was avoiding yet another friendly suggestion to seek partnership, he just wanted to come across it organically. 

The rich aroma of freshly ground coffee beans envelopes Spencer as he enters the café each morning, a comforting ritual that momentarily eases the ache of solitude. The barista who makes his coffee is very attractive, but of course Spencer doesn’t want to have to find a new coffee shop if things went south with Sam. This one is right on his way to work, and besides, he doesn’t even know if Sam is interested in men. And Spencer does not possess the social skills nor ability to ask and find out without potentially offending yet another perfectly fine person. 

“Morning, Spencer! The usual?” Sam asked, flashing a warm smile as he expertly crafted his coffee.

“Yes, thank you,” Spencer replied, hesitating for a moment. “You always get it just right.”

“Well, I try,” Sam laughed, handing over the cup. “See you tomorrow?”

Spencer nodded, feeling the familiar flutter of nerves. “Yes, see you.”

Alas, Spencer Reid has resigned to living a very lonesome life as a 27 year old virgin. Not that he is willing to share this information with anyone. He had accidentally confessed to Morgan one night under the false security blanket of alcohol a few years prior, and Derek made it his life mission that night to get Spencer laid. This led to some very awkward and uncomfortable conversation between Spencer and many bar goers, none of which ended in him losing his tightly attached virginity. He thinks, and truly hopes, Derek had forgotten the whole thing as he never mentioned it again. Thank Spok. 

Now when Spencer was invited to group outings he rarely agreed, it wasn’t that he didn’t like spending time with his team, but he was afraid of letting some personal information slip again. And around profilers, even the smallest slip of tongue can be detrimental. He does agree occasionally, especially if Hotch agrees, because he knows that Aaron will act as his security blanket in place of alcohol. Hotch never lets the team's friendly teasing of Spencer get too far, easily reading his body language and sensing when Spencer is genuinely perturbed. Hotch also does not drink often, needing to get back to Jack and Haley, so Spencer does not feel as much of the odd man out when he now avoids alcohol or leaves earlier than the rest of the bunch. 

Tonight in particular, Emily and Derek have laid into each other about their romantic pursuits, or lack thereof. The whole gang is seated at a rounded booth in a bar after closing a case in Virginia, Hotch and Spencer included. Rossi has offered to pay for everyone’s cab fares home to ensure that they can enjoy themselves and let loose. Reid is still skeptical as he remembers his loose lipped blathering to Morgan, but upon seeing even Hotch order a whiskey and coke, he orders himself a dirty Arnold Palmer to sip on. 

The bar was alive with the hum of chatter and soft jazz music, the dim lighting casting a warm glow over the gathered team. The clinking of glasses and occasional bursts of laughter from nearby tables added to the lively ambiance, creating a cocoon of camaraderie around their booth.

Across the table, Emily and Derek continued their playful debate over who had the better dating escapades. Their laughter was infectious, but Spencer couldn’t help feeling like a spectator in a world of easy social interactions that seemed just out of reach.

While Emily and Derek compare conquests and bedroom stories, Rossi and Aaron talk about the highs and lows of marriage, JJ and Penelope corner Spencer into a conversation about his own dating life. 

JJ leaned in with a teasing smile “So, Spencer, are you seeing anyone special these days?”

Spencer fidgeting with his drink, eyes darting around answered “Um, well, not exactly. I mean, I’ve been quite busy with work and, uh, reading. Lots of reading.”

Penelope nudged JJ with a grin “Come on, Boy Wonder, don’t be shy! You must have someone catching your eye. What about that barista you mentioned once?”

Spencer blushed slightly, stammering “Oh, Sam? He’s just… he’s just good at making coffee. I wouldn’t want to complicate things, you know?”

JJ and Penelope both raised an eyebrow at him. JJ retorting “Spencer, complicating things is half the fun. Besides, you’ll never know unless you try.”

“Exactly! You can’t let those books keep you from finding love. Think of it as an adventure, like your favorite stories.” Penelope said, waving her hand dramatically 

Spencer smiled faintly, a hint of wistfulness in his voice “I suppose. But it’s not as simple as turning a page or solving a case. People are… complex.”

JJ nodded in understanding. Spencer laughed softly, relaxing a bit and realized his friends were only trying to help. At least they weren’t trying to set him up with anyone here tonight. “Thanks though, guys. I’ll think about it. But for now, I think I’ll just enjoy the evening.”

JJ and Penelope exchange a knowing glance, satisfied that they’ve at least planted a seed of thought in Spencer’s mind. 

Spencer felt a surge of gratitude as he looked around the table. Despite the teasing, he knew JJ and Penelope genuinely cared about him, just as much as Hotch’s quiet presence offered reassurance. It was moments like these that reminded him of the family he had found within the BAU.

Morgan had abruptly ended his conversation with Emily casually leaning in to listen to the girls talk to Reid about his favorite topic, the genius’ love life. Derek raised his voice to be heard over the bar noise and with a mischievous grin said “Hey, Reid, I couldn’t help but overhear you’re looking for someone interesting. You know, you should meet Y/N.”

Spencer was caught off guard hearing Morgan, and realizing he had heard some of their conversation about the barista. Still, now he was intrigued, Spencer raised an eyebrow, curious “Y/N? Who’s that?”

Morgan sat back, feigning nonchalance “Oh, just one of the coolest people I know. She used to be Jack’s nanny, and now she’s a child psychologist at the local hospital. Super smart and amazing with kids.” He was smirking by the time he finished, knowing he had cast his hook. 

Now even JJ was joining in with a nod “Yeah, she’s great! Remember that charity event we went to last month? She was the one organizing the whole thing. She’s really passionate about her work.” Charity event? Organized the whole thing? Spencer was getting a little hot under the collar, and he didn’t even know who this Y/n person is. 

Penelope began clapping her hands excitedly again, loving that Y/n’s name was brought up. She was eager to add in her own two cents “And she’s got the most amazing style! Always looks like she walked right out of a fashion magazine.”

Emily was now smiling, having caught on, and chiming in “Y/N is definitely someone worth meeting, Spencer. She’s also got a wicked sense of humor—she can hold her own in any conversation, which is pretty rare these days.”

“I would have to agree with Prentiss, I had the pleasure of chatting with her about classic literature—she knows her stuff.” Rossi added, smiling knowingly at Emily. 

Emily chuckled, “I remember the first time I met Y/N, she had the entire room laughing within minutes. Trust me, Spencer, you’ll find her refreshingly different.”

Spencer was very intrigued, but cautious “She sounds… interesting. How come I’ve never met her?”

Line, thought Derek. 

Hotch finally chimed in, looking genuinely pleased “Y/N’s been a family friend for years. She was fantastic with Jack, and now she’s doing incredible work at the hospital. I didn’t realize she hadn’t met you yet, Spencer. I think you’d get along.” 

Sweet, thoughtful Aaron was unaware of the plans his team was cooking up. And yet, the team exchanges knowing glances, silently encouraging Spencer’s interest.

Emily leaned forward, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “You two would have a lot to talk about. I’d love to see you guys meet—you’d probably end up debating over which classic novel is the best.”

“Maybe I should meet her. It would be nice to talk to someone who appreciates literature and has another PhD.” Spencer said, scolding himself slightly for showing his interest so quickly, he hopes no one teases him later.

Spencer was deep inside his own world for a second, thoughtful, mulling over the information. His heart raced at the thought of meeting someone who held such high regard from his entire team, especially the big man himself, Hotchner. The idea of forming a connection both excited and terrified him, his mind racing with doubts.

Will she share all of my interests? I’m not as outgoing as the rest of the team. What if she doesn’t like how awkward I am. What if she doesn’t find my facts interesting? 

Morgan smirking, satisfied, sinker “Absolutely, Reid. You should definitely meet her. Who knows, maybe you’ll have more in common than you think.” 

Yeah. Maybe.

The conversation shifts back to the group’s ongoing banter, but the seed has been planted in Spencer’s mind. The team continues to subtly encourage his curiosity throughout the remainder of the evening, each eager to see how this new potential connection might unfold. 

As the night wore on, Spencer couldn't shake the thought of Y/N. Her name lingered in his mind, a promise of something new and unexpected. The possibility of meeting her felt like an unwritten chapter in his life, waiting to unfold.

[gallavichsreddie1128]

Getting Hannibal Drunk

Y/N and Will thought it would be a great idea to get their boyfriend drunk. 

Well Y/N did.

“Will, please?” Y/N begged. He shook his head, “What if he tells us all his secrets and we become accomplices?” “Will, you’ve literally killed people.”

It took a whole week for Will to agree that it was a good idea. 

“So Han, we were thinking that it would be a good idea to get drunk tonight and have fun.” He looked at his two partners suspiciously. “What?” “You wanna get me drunk so I'll tell you everything.” “No, that's what we’re afraid of.” Will says. 

Hannibal was easy to get drunk once you gave him anything else besides Wine and Whiskey. 

Will’s jaw was dropped as Hannibal and Y/N giggled like school girls and whispered in each other’s ears. 

He decided to stay sober so nothing bad would happen. 

“That’s what he did today at a crime scene.” Hanni exclaims as he and Y/N were talking about Will being overprotective of them.

“No, really?” She whispered and looked over at Will as he stared at them with an eyebrow raised. “You know I can hear you two right?” 

Hanni looked at him. “I didn’t do anything out of the ordinary at the scene today.” Hannibal gave him a “really, bitch?” look. “You literally didn’t even want me going near the woods cuz you were afraid that I would get hurt.” “Or that you might get kidnapped.” Y/N pointed out. Hanni nodded.

“Well you two are the light of my life. I won’t let anything happen to you.” “Will, that was cheesy.” Y/N  said. Hannibal nodded, “So cheesy.” 

“Will, I can kill people.” Will looked at him unimpressed by his comment. 

“Let me do your skincare routine.” Y/N exclaimed and stood up. “You want to wash my face?” She nodded. “Am I ugly to you?” He asked and almost had tears. 

Y/N shook her head and took Hannibal’s hands. “You are sexy but you need to start cleansing.” 

Will smiled as Y/N convinced him to let her clean his skin. 

Hannibal stood in the bathroom with a mask on his face. Will was trying not to laugh. 

“Keep it on for 15 minutes.” She told Hannibal. He checked himself out in the mirror. “This feels weird.”

Will couldn’t hold back his laugh. Hannibal looked over at him, “Something funny, Will?” “No, you look good.” The man couldn’t hold back his laugh.

Ended up taking a picture of his lovers in their face masks. 

It’s now his lockscreen. 

 Hannibal of course had to bake for his lovers.

“2 shots of Vodka.” Will looked at the older man weird. “I showed him the vine.” Y/N said, giggling. “The What?” 

As the food was in the oven, Hanni looked at Will. Will looked back at him, “You’re so cute.” Hanni said as he pinched the man’s cheek. 

Will pulled away and rubbed his cheek. Y/N giggled and pulled on his other cheek. “He’s such a puppy.” 

Y/N knew that Will secretly loved to be called Puppy. 

“Puppy? That’s a new one. I like it!” Will then glared at Y/N for calling him that in front of Hannibal. 

“Well Y/N loves to be called kitten.” Will said with a smirk. Panties dropped. 

Y/N  glared at him as Hannibal chuckled. “You two do fight like cats and dogs sometimes.” 

Once the food was done Will decided to get it out being the only sober one. 

“Smells good.” Y/N said. Will nodded. 

“I know. I’m the best cook around.” Hannibal said cockily. “Hanni, there fucking cheese sticks.” 

Sober Hanni would never let his 2 lovers eat such a thing. 

Y/N and Will ate them up as Hanni watched them. He had a drunken smile on his face and he couldn’t believe the two most precious people in the world were his.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Partners in Crime 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, Lee Bodecker

Summary: you're left reeling after your divorce but the chaos has only begun. (short!reader)

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You hate the mall. Too bright. Too loud. Too fast. 

That day isn’t so bad. Tuesday, mid-morning. Most people are at work. Not you. Your part-time gig barely pays the bills, let alone keeps you busy. With that in mind, you shouldn’t be there to spend what little you have.  

It’s for a good cause. It’s your grandmother’s birthday next week and you owe her. After all she’s done, you owe much more than just a measly mall-bough gift but it’s all you can manage right now. One day it will be better. One day you will be able to pay her back. At least you keep telling yourself that. 

She paid for it all. Your way out, your lawyer, your apartment even. You can’t live in the senior’s community with her, that’s against the rules, but she parsed out some of her nest egg for the flat in the old brick building. For you. She’s the only one who ever did so much for you but what did you ever do for her? 

It’s not for lack of trying, only your own poor decisions. 

You enter the sparkling Swarovski store and keep your arms tight to your body, paranoid of breaking any of the numerous crystal pieces. You don’t know what she would like. It isn’t because you don’t know her well, you just don’t think she has much use for any of it. She’s always been painfully practical. That’s why you never wanted to ask her for help. 

An associate startles you as she appears beside you in her sleek black pantsuit. She offers help but you get the sense she’s checking in, making sure your hands aren’t sneaking into your pockets. You make sure to keep them visible and move your satchel across your back. You tell her you’re just looking and blow out between your dry lips. Maybe a hoodie wasn’t the best choice. 

It was meant to be a solution. You wanted to get out of your grandmother’s hair. How long had you been living with her? He was the answer to that. You thought so. You wanted to believe it. For ten years, you tried. He always spoiled it. 

Then she had to bail you out anyway. 

As you come to the sharp corner of a shelf, you’re startled by another customer. You hadn’t seen them when you came in or heard them. You glance at them fleetingly and turn your attention to the shelf of Mickey Mouse decorations. Definitely not those. 

“Excuse me, sweetheart,” the man frightens you again as he nears and presses his hand to your back. He sidles by, and you dodge away from him, coming dangerously close to colliding with the display of birthstone necklaces. 

You shake off the close brush and blink at the glass. You peek over at the man as he seems overly interested in a paper weight shaped like a dove. His mustache and sleek haircut make him look like he’s been plucked out of some gangster period piece.  

The associate shifts from one side of the counter to the other. She’s watching you. You sigh. She still thinks you’re a thief. You shake your head and leave. 

It’s not worth the trouble or the money. You can find something better. You know you could get your grandma a box of chocolates and a card and she’d say she’s happy. You don’t want to get her what works; you want to do something for someone. Something more than just be there. 

You go down to Hallmark. It’s a similar atmosphere with a hint of warmness and more range in price. Still too much Disney and not enough variety. Your grandmother doesn’t need a rustic crate or a door sign with some snarky saying about wine. 

You stop to look at cards. You can at least grab one of those. As you reach for one along the top row, another hand swipes it from your grasp. You back up and look at the culprit. It’s the same man as the Swarovski shop. Strange. 

You recoil and scurry down the aisle towards the door. Is he following you? It could be a coincidence. Two stores. If he’s looking for a gift too, it makes sense. 

You cross your arms and march quickly through the bright mall, the skylight glaring down at you. You walk in and out of a clothes shop. You don’t know where you’re going now. You’re frazzled. 

You find your way to the As Seen on TV shop and meander around without intent. You’re at a loss. You’ll just end up at the bookstore like always. Another book for her birthday. Wowee. 

She might like the salt rock light. You don’t know. Ugh. 

It isn’t the gift. It isn’t her. It’s you. You’re indecisive. You're lost. Even if it was misery, you miss having someone to tell you what to do. Now you have to think and you do too much of that. 

“Those are pretty cool,” a voice slices through your self-pity. 

It’s the same man. Your eyes meet as you look up to see him. You blanch and open and close your mouth. The shop is so small, how hadn’t you heard him? 

You retreat without a word. He must be following you. There’s no other explanation. What do you do? You can’t just lead him out of the mall, back to your building, but how can you divert him? 

You find a bench down the next aisle of the mall, somewhere the associates in the vitamin store can see you. You’re safe there with people around. You look up and down, searching for the man and his mustache. Just a mother with her stroller. 

You’re paranoid. Stupid, just like he said. It’s all in your head. You’re just fucked up. You don’t know how to live in this world. Not alone. 

“Excuse me, ma’am,” the timbre tickles up the back of your spine and you twist to see the figure behind you. It’s an officer in uniform. “Mind if I ask ya something?” 

You nod and blink. You don’t like the cops. You haven’t spoken to them since the night it all came crashing down. The flashing lights, the sirens, the questions. It’s all a haze yet it’s stamped into your psyche. 

“Yes, sir,” you stand. 

He’s got dark brown hair and bright blue eyes. His shoulders bear a slant of authority as he has his hands on his hips. He’s taller than you, but so is everyone. You look across the bench at him as his white shirt pokes out from under his leather jacket, his belly straining the fabric. 

“You don’t gotta trouble yerself,” he shows his palm and reaches with his other hand to his belt, “I’m lookin’ for someone and was wonderin’ if maybe ya saw him.” 

“Oh?” You crinkle your forehead. 

“Got a pic somewhere,” he frees his phone from the clip on his belt and flicks his thumb over the screen, “here we are.” 

He turns the cell toward you and you can’t help but make a face. The image is blurry but it’s definitely that same man. You look back the way you came and gulp. 

“Reckon by that, you’ve seen him,” the officer says. “Sheriff Bodecker,” he introduces as he retracts his hand, “I’m doing an investigation. Mind if I ask some more questions?" 

“Well, I... didn’t talk to him.” 

“That’s fine,” he peers down in the same direction you did. The infant in its stroller begins to yawl and his cheek ticks, “how about you come out to my cruiser and we’ll do it there? Less ruckus?” 

You purse your lips. You can’t really say no, he might think you know that guy, whoever he is, whatever he’s done. You shrug. You don’t have much to say. You’re sure it won’t be much of an interview. 

“Okay,” you agree.” 

[chattemagique]

yandere! AllMight headcannons + chapter 1 (?)

tw: self-harm, kidnapping, use of curse word (fuck), stalking, obsessive behavior, mentions of daddy issues, indirect mentons of suicide, reader has mental issues fem!bodied reader, mentions of sex

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

PROCEED WITH CARE

- Basically his associations with his first crush and you influenced his main delusions. Also that you wanted to become a superhero, which is so altruistic, just as she was and he was. You were totally made for him. And even in this difficult situation he was there as your savior to guide you towards the right path.

-yan! All might doesn't see you as a villain

-rather as lost young woman or rather babygirl (im sorry for the old ass joke, this actually stayed in my drafts for almost a year)

-delusional yes -his roles in reader's life borders between someone similar to a father figure and a lover, leaning more towards the lover side -would play a therapist with you -could give you the whole world if only you stayed with him and listened to him, stop committing crime and maybe found yourself some hobby or activity that you like

-he would try to be your therapist, would do a little research on mental health and self-harm as he's busy with work/or ask the therapists that worked in the same company as him

Just imagine sitting in his lap while crying in his chest. His hand slowly caressing your back while whispering sweet, comforting words in your ear that it's going to be alright, that he's going to help you get through this.

-ngl I feel like (y/n) would be the first one to initiate sex despite All might being delusional he wouldn't force himself onto you he's just not built this way (kidnapping doesn't count tho ) besides he did that to save you from prison

-It'd be after some time, when he's tried talking to you, feed you with your favorite food and many other interesting, cute desserts that he'd usually bring Midoriya, walking with you in the garden (in the house that he'd brought you in) out of desperation you just kinda started to open up to him, bc there was nowhere else to go.

-he's actually completely fine with you disappearing and not appearing in public anymore, if you don't wanna be a hero

-if you do, then he will "wipe out" any information about this robbing case which has your name, using his connections or/and suggest you to change your name 

***

There used to be a time, when you wanted to become a hero. Not anymore tho. You're even started to doubt whether this wish was yours and not somebody else's.. Were you yourself or just wearing a mask, pretending to be a good person, when in reality just a hypocrite.

The bank's visitors and employees all had their faces planted on the floor while your partner in crime used his quirk to emit temporarily paralyzing smoke to watch them.  You took money from safe deposit boxes.  Someone's money lol.

You didn't expect that he would be here. You were hoping that some average hero would arrive here, when you had already stolen some amount and slipped away together with your partner in crime.

"I AM HERE"

-Shit

Having barely fastened your bag, you headed to the back exit, which led into narrow alleys.  Hearing how your partner was arrested, deciding that all the attention would be on him, you ran as far as possible, weaving through the streets.  Finally seeing the descent into the subway. Since it was night, there was no one in particular and you headed as far as possible.

"Damn, I thought, that I might have to use you, " you caressed the gun through your jacket. It had two bullets, in case if this ain't going to end well and you wouldn't want to suffer in prison. It was that bad and hopeless.

The thing is he still remembers you from the first time he met you 2 years ago, when you were leaving your job at night. He saved you from the robber with a gun.

You reminded him of his first crush, your face, your body, your hair, smell, voice, your beauty, everything. And your potential that he saw in you, when you still wanted to become a superhero.

From that time he watches you all the time.. At first he thought that it wasn't normal, but he just couldn't help himself to keep watching you. Especially when he saw the scars on your wrist.

So the days went on and on and you totally forgot about this accident and couldn't even imagine that someone like nr.1 hero was stalking you.

Obviously, he was very disappointed when he found out about your robbing plans. And he never really liked your villain friend. How could somebody like you even be friends with him?! But that was also a part of your charm, since you tried not to judge people by their cover. So why were you then so judgemental about yourself?

A sudden looming figure was approaching you from the other side of the tunnel. You tried to change the directions, but it was following you. You're at a dead end now. Either you're going to the police, either to them now. Well, you decided to test your chances and meet them.

"okay" you thought, "imma just act as if I'm lost and looking for a way out towards the forest."

You saw some tall middle aged man and decided to just walk past him, as if you're looking for another exit.

"y/n"

You stopped.

"You're on a wrong path."

"Sorry?" you were confused. Who the fuck was he?

You turned your head. Your eyes met.

No. There's no way it's him.

He transformed into his full form and the tunnel room seemed so small in a second.

You didn't realize how you released the bag from your hand and were going to try to run through walls. Your quirk wasn't that advanced, but you could walk through walls. Only it was already too late as you approached the closest wall and felt your heavy eyelids closing.

You woke up in bedroom. Similar to the one you had at your home. You even thought that It was the one and that this whole non-sense from yesterday was just a dream. But it wasn't. Soon you noticed the difference from your usual room.

Your left leg felt heavier than usual. There was a black anklet that you couldn't remove. The room lacked some decor and also the drawers and wardrobe had other clothes you've never had. After inspecting the room, you decided to see what else could be hidden here. There was a big, dark brown woody closet with mirror. You opened it. Suddenly you noticed that the back of the closet was covered with pictures of you. Pictures of you being outside and inside of your room through window.. Scary shit. What the actual fuck.

You just remembered that it was All Might who you've met yesterday in the tunnel. The shocking memory made you fall back and hit the side of the bed.

"Ouch!"

Suddenly the door knob started moving and he walked in.

"(y/n), are you okay?"

You were probably delusional. You were surely delusional. This situation wasn't even serious. It couldn't. You were sleeping. Sleeping for sure.

If only.

"W-what do y-you want from m-me?" your voice was trembling.

"I want you to feel and become better.. with me." Nr.1 said surely.

[kayawolfhorse]

Day 4 — Two Lights in the Dark

—☾—

At the end of patrolling, they find each other on a rooftop.

Scar likes these kinds of days the best, when his knees are in good enough shape to brave long flights of stairs, and Grian’s able to act upon his ridiculous insistence on climbing up whatever fire escapes and window sills he needs to haul himself over the roof’s edge.

Grian’s waiting for him, crouched against one of the large, boxy units. When he catches sight of Scar, he stands, and where the evening sun catches the tips of his colorful feathers and strands of his golden hair, he all but glows. His half-hearted scowl of impatience is familiar and Scar finds warmth in its corners.

“You’re late,” Grian says, by way of greeting. He’s just barely still winded enough to give away that he’s only just arrived himself.

“Five minutes past is not late,” Scar smoothly insists. He digs a pack of candy out of his pocket and tosses it to Grian, who catches it in one deft hand. “Plus, I got you a present, so we’re even.”

Grian’s expression gives way into something closer to a smile, and he pops a bright red candy ring into his mouth before tucking the rest of the package away.

Hard candies. Scar will never understand why he likes them.

“We’re even,” he concedes after a loud crunch, and Scar grins.

Pulling the visor from his eyes, Scar scans his partner’s frame. “How’d the guy go?”

It’s been a quiet evening, save for the odd skirmish or two, and something pulls at Scar’s gut. The inaction feels foreboding, the tension palpable—like the world is pitched forward on bated breath. Scar doesn’t like it.

Grian shrugs. “Petty crook. Tried to pull a knife on me.”

“That went well for him, surely.”

“Yeah, right,” Grian snorts. “He stole a purse, Scar. A purse! That’s, like, the most stereotypical crime in the book!”

“Next time, we’re going to get a thief in black and white lugging an entire safe,” Scar says, snapping his fingers. “Did you return it?”

“Yeah, obviously. The lady hadn’t gone too far. She gave me tons of caramels as payment.” Grian holds out a handful of them to illustrate his point.

Scar grabs one before Grian can stop him, and grimaces when he feels the smooth, hard lump of it. Isn’t caramel supposed to be soft? “You’re going to need a dentist-themed villain to fight at this rate.”

“Wha—? Scar, you don’t need to fight a dentist to employ their services,” Grian says, and his peal of laughter fizzles with confusion. “Cleo’s a special case, and she’s not really our enemy.”

“I suppose you have a point there.”

Scar settles on the roof’s ledge in the shadow of the stairwell’s shed, dangling his legs over the side overlooking the asphalt below. He shifts over slightly, an invitation Grian takes; a shoulder presses into his own and his side is seeped in warmth.

A comfortable silence falls between them as they gaze across the city beneath them. Street lamps have long since flickered on, illuminating people and cars heading home to rest or traveling further into the night for a late shift. Something indescribably close to affection, something indescribably close to grief twinges in Scar’s heart as he takes it all in.

The bustle is a hum from so high up, and Scar can just make out Grian’s sigh through it.

“You can feel it too, can’t you?” Scar asks softly. He feels Grian tense beside him, a barely perceptible change.

“I can, yeah,” he admits. “It’s like the whole city is waiting for something.”

“There’s no chance it could be waiting for something nice, like kittens and rainbows, right?” They both know the answer.

“It’d make our jobs a hell of a lot easier, that’s for sure,” Grian says, huffing. “We really can’t catch a break, can we?”

“We have,” Scar says. “We will.”

“How can you be so sure?” Grian challenges, and there’s a touch of something gentler in his tone. Scar could name it vulnerability, maybe.

“We’ve made it through everything else, haven’t we?” Scar hums. “After all we’ve been through, you and I are still here to tell the tale.”

Grian remains quiet. After a pause, he moves closer to Scar and drapes a hesitant wing across his back. Scar loops an arm around him and holds him close.

For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re still here with me, even after you had every reason to leave. You’ve grown precious to me in ways I couldn’t have ever imagined. No matter what life throws at us, it’ll always be me and you together against it.

I can’t imagine a world without you in it, as my teammate, as my friend, as Grian.

Together, they sit and watch as the dusky sunset gives way to night, darkness lit aglow by the city around them and the smatter of stars high above.

—☾—

Set in @hotguycomiczine!

[f1loverleclerc]

** Double the Love**

Summary: Roman Reigns and his wife Shyla finally welcome their newborn twins. 

Pairing: Roman Reigns x Shyla 

Warning: Fluffy. 

Word count: 772

****

The sun had barely begun to rise, casting a soft golden glow through the windows of the cozy nursery. Roman Reigns stood by the cribs, his heart swelling with joy at the sight of his newborn twins. Shyla, his partner in crime and the love of his life, was still resting comfortably in their bedroom, a well-deserved slumber following a long night of labor.

He gazed down at the two little bundles swaddled snugly in their blankets. One twin, a girl with a tuft of dark hair that mirrored her father’s, grinned in her sleep, while her brother, with a slightly lighter shade, let out a soft coo. Roman couldn’t help but smile; they were perfect.

As if sensing his gaze, Shyla stirred and stretched, her sleepy eyes blinking open to meet his. A warm smile spread across her face when she realized the time. “Good morning, superstar,” she teased, her voice still thick with sleep.

“Good morning, mama,” he replied, stepping closer to the bed. He kissed her forehead gently before looking back at their children. “Can you believe we made those two?”

Shyla chuckled softly, her heart brimming with love. “We sure did. Look at them—they’re incredible.”

He scooped her hand in his, and together, they approached the cribs. Roman leaned down to give each baby a soft kiss, his heart racing with an overwhelming sense of responsibility and love. “They’re so tiny. Do you think they know how much we love them already?” he asked, glancing at Shyla.

“Of course they do,” she said, her voice tender as she reached down to caress their cheeks. “They can feel it. Just like I felt it when you were holding me during labor.”

“Yeah, about that,” he said, his tone turning playful. “You should’ve seen me—like a deer in headlights! I was trying so hard not to panic!”

Shyla laughed, remembering the moment when Roman had clutched her hand, whispering words of encouragement, even as his own nerves showed through. “You did great, babe. You were my rock.”

“And now I’m a dad of twins!” He puffed out his chest with mock bravado, causing Shyla to giggle. “What’s next? Superhero capes?”

“Only if you wear one, too,” she quipped, her eyes sparkling. 

Roman laughed, imagining the two of them in matching capes, dashing around the house chasing after their little ones. The thought brought him immense joy, knowing that their family was growing, and each day would bring new adventures.

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, Shyla suggested, “How about we take some pictures? I want to capture this moment forever.”

With a nod, Roman pulled out his phone, setting it up for a quick selfie. They crowded around the cribs, beaming with pride as he snapped the photo. Their smiles were radiant, each glance shared between them filled with the promise of a beautiful future.

“Perfect!” Shyla declared. “Now we just need to figure out names.” 

Roman raised an eyebrow, excitement flickering in his eyes. “I like the sound of ‘Rocky’ and ‘Raina.’”

“Very on-brand,” she teased. “But how about we try something unique? Something that tells our story?”

After tossing around ideas, they finally settled on Maeve and Milo. Each name felt right, resonating with the love they shared. 

“Welcome to the world, Maeve and Milo,” Roman whispered, his voice filled with emotion. “You’ve got the best parents waiting for you.”

As the day unfolded, they found themselves enveloped in a whirlwind of joy and laughter. Family and friends visited, bringing gifts and sharing stories, and each moment only seemed to strengthen their bond.

Later, as night fell and silence wrapped around their home, Roman and Shyla took turns rocking the twins to sleep. The soft sounds of the nursery echoed through their hearts as they exchanged sleepy smiles.

“Can you believe we did it?” Roman whispered as he settled into the rocking chair beside Shyla.

“Every day with you is a blessing,” she murmured, leaning against him. “And now we have doubled the joy.”

With contentment settling in their hearts, Roman rested his head against hers, reflecting on how their lives had changed. Together, they drifted into the peaceful rhythm of parenthood, knowing that no matter what challenges lay ahead, their love would guide them through it all.

In that small nursery, amid the gentle breaths of their sleeping twins, Roman realized there was nothing more magical than this—double the love, double the laughter, and a lifetime of memories waiting to be made.