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hiraethwrote · 8 hours

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just come home pt. 2 - satoru gojo

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[satoru gojo - f!reader] ✧ summary: dealing with the breakup has been hard for the both of you, and it doesn't help when your randomly bump into each other ✧ cw: angst, some fluff, denial, slight intoxication, somewhat proofread ✧ word count: 3.6k

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35 days has passed since he had last seen you, let alone heard your voice and he never knew he could miss something so much. The first week after everything had went down, he had blown up your phone in hopes you two could talk it through. But he hadn’t been so lucky, as he was sent straight to voicemail every time.

He was dying to know how you were doing, wondering if you were as miserable without him as he found himself to be without you. Every time he stepped into the abandoned apartment, the scene of you leaving him played over and over in his head. It wasn’t until your friend had picked up all your stuff he realised how imprinted you were in the apartment. It didn’t feel like home to him anymore.

The apartment was, in theory, Satoru’s. In the beginning, you spent the night every now and then. But the relationship was just so intense, quickly escalating to spending the night, every night. Eventually you both figured it was just better you moved in, so you wouldn’t have to travel in between places for small necessities. As time went on, your stuff and decor brought new life to the place, something he had wanted for a long time but never taken the time to do. But now every trace of your time in his apartment was erased and he couldn’t stand being there.

“She’s not telling me anything, Satoru,” Suguru sighed as he was continuously begging him to spill whatever he had heard from you. Throughout your relationship, it was only natural for you to get to know his friends. Therefore, Suguru had reached out to you once he learned what had happened. But much to Satoru’s dismay, you gave short replies, only answering out of pure politeness.

“She’s a chatty person, I find it hard to believe she’s sending you one-word texts.”

With a sigh, Suguru threw his phone at him, taking Satoru by surprise. “Have a look for yourself.” Suguru didn’t have to ask him twice as he instantly entered the texts exchanged between the two of you. Not only did you answer shortly, but you took your sweet time sending any form of reply. But once he saw the last message he had received from you was yesterday, his heart did a small jump. It was the first sign he’d seen himself that you were even alive.

y/n: doing fine. hope you have a nice weekend too :)

His eyes kept staring at the small screen, fighting the urge to start typing anything just to be in contact with you. After a while, he reluctantly handed the phone back to Suguru.

“Happy now?” Suguru asked, earning him a cold glare from Satoru. “If I’m gonna be honest, I thought the two of you had been having issues for a while.” His glare instantly softened and his entire demeanour had changed into one of pure sadness.

“Come again?”

“You can’t be serious, Satoru?” Suguru asked tauntingly, his voice dripping with disappointment. “You hate work. I thought the first time you volunteered to stay after a meeting, you guys had been fighting and you were just being petty.”

“I’m not petty,” Satoru raced to defend himself.

“That’s beside the point!” Suguru said, rolling his eyes. “You know how you can get. I thought you just wanted to piss her off, but it kept happening. I tried asking you about it, but you just brushed it off every time.”

“I’m telling you, we were fine. There were no issues!”

“You keep saying that, but something changed. Satoru, do you remember the last time Shoko or I begged you to shut up about her?” Now that Suguru mentioned it, Satoru began to think about what Suguru had said and realised he was making a point.

He felt as if his heart was breaking all over again, to hear how even his friends had managed to pick up on his blatant disregard for his girlfriend, but it had managed to slip right by him. And because of that, the image of you, choked with tears because of him was forever burned into his mind.

“I just really want her back!” He stuttered, clearly in despair which caught Suguru off guard. For all the times Satoru had explained the situation to his friends, he had never really let his emotions show to anyone. He kept all that locked up until he was sound in his bed, when he couldn’t keep it together anymore. Nearly every night since you’d left, he fell asleep crying.

“It’s not like you deserve it.”

Satoru scoffed. “I never meant for this to happen, Suguru." He really didn’t appreciate his closest friend going against him on the matter, even though he was fully aware it was what he deserved.

“I’m sure you didn’t,” his friend shrugged. “But it did. This is the bed you made, it’s time you lay in it.” Every word that left Suguru’s mouth was entirely true, and Satoru hated himself for it. Ever since he last saw you, he had tried to convince himself this wasn’t his fault, that there was no way for him to have seen this coming. But every time he went down that road, he came to the same conclusion that he could have avoided it a hundred times over.

Satoru was definitely blaming himself enough, to the point where he was in no mood to sit there and listen to his friend spew statements of how badly he screwed up, so he got up from his seat and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?”

He didn’t even bother answering Suguru, as he slammed the door behind him as he left.

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It had been the longest and most dreadful 35 days of your life. Luckily, your friend had been kind enough to open her home to you and put absolutely no pressure for you to leave anytime soon.

She’d been asleep when you came banging on her door in the middle of the night, extremely confused at first when you had just collapsed into a bundle of sobs on her living room floor. Once she’d wiped the sleep out of her eyes, she had managed to decipher your broken words into a coherent narrative about how you and Satoru had broken up.

The first week was definitely the worst, huddled up on her couch in a blanket, only getting up to go to the bathroom. She had provided you with whatever you needed; ice cream, movies and takeout. You name it, and she brought it.

You were thankful she’d just let you have some time to be a complete mess before being forced to deal with life again. So after the first week, she started to pull you out of you comfort zone in order for you to start a healing process. At first, she just had you help her cook dinner, then she brought you along to shop for groceries. Before you knew it, you found yourself doing your makeup again which seemed like a huge step. Finally you were putting in some effort in making yourself feel a little better. It felt like a breath of fresh air when you returned to a form of normalcy.

That didn’t mean it hurt any less. In the moments you found yourself thinking about your relationship — past relationship — the sadness struck you all over again, and it didn’t seem like it would fade away just yet. But it had at least become manageable, and it was nice falling asleep without sobbing to the point where you couldn’t breathe.

Finally, your progress had resulted in the first social outing since the breakup. Your friend had been invited to a barbecue, and she had begged for you to join her. After some convincing, you decided it would actually be nice to go out and meet some people and regain some of the social life you had lost.

That’s how you found yourself in the grocery store, trying to find anything to bring to the barbecue, not wanting to come empty handed. You stopped your search when you felt a pair of eyes staring at you. Turning to face the person, you immediately froze, your breath hitching in your throat.

A few feet from you, Satoru was standing, his mouth slightly hanging open. You felt your heart begin to race, banging against your chest like a hummingbird.

Time stood still as you both stared at each other, wondering who would be the one to break the ice first. Wrapping your arms around yourself in comfort, you tightened your grip to contain the overwhelming feelings filling your body.

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“You didn’t see his face, y/n. I mean, he has never been embarrassed like that before,” Satoru laughed. He had his arm tossed over your shoulders, while your arm was wrapped around his waist, stumbling down the deserted street. It was definitely not unlike the two of you to leave a party early, as you both much more preferred only each others company.

“Why didn’t you come and get me?” You whined. “I would have loved to see a girl get Suguru all flustered.”

“I mean, she was hot too. Way out of his league.” With the hand resting in his waist, you pinched hard.

“Watch it mister!” You growled, but in reality you were chocking back the drunk giggle that was bubbling up inside you. “If she was so hot, why don’t you go see if she wants to join you for the night.” You shrugged his arm off your shoulders, and released your grip on him. However, he was quick to grab ahold of your hand again and pulled you towards him so you collided with his chest.

“Oh, don’t be like that, pretty girl.” His voice was teasing you, clearly not taking your fake anger seriously. He wrapped one arm around your waist, making it impossible for you to pull away. The other hand grabbed your face before he began to place a bunch of kisses all over your face.

“Satoru!” You squealed in between giggles. Pressing your hands against his chest, you tried to push him away and get out of his grip, but to no prevail.

“What? You don’t want my kisses?” He pouted, loosening his grip, but you remained close to him. “Maybe that girl is interested in them instead?.” His eyes were so soft as he looked down on you, a small genuine smile dancing on his lips. Even with his playful attitude, you had zero concern he would even consider going back to her.

“You’re a funny guy, aren’t you?” You hooked your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes leaning in closer.

“I think I'm hilarious.” Your nose brushed against his, your lips only an inch apart. His hot breath touched your skin, and his eyes travel your face.

“What makes you think she’d even go for you, darling?” His head fell back in laughter, as you flashed him a huge grin, still hanging on around his neck.

“Suguru’s a handsome guy. If I were her-“

“Shut up,” Satoru cut you off before he finally connected his lips with yours in a sweet and passionate kiss. The butterflies went wild as you felt him smile into the kiss. “Doesn’t matter anyway. You’re the only girl I have eyes for.” He said after he reluctantly pulled away.

“Keep it that way,” you giggled before pulling him in for another kiss.

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It was strange to see him again, and a new sensation of melancholy entertained you. From the second you’d left his apartment, you began to picture what it would be like to see him again. You imagined you’d be struck with the same sorrow of that night, only thinking of how he had been unable to provide for your needs. But you found yourself only thinking of the good memories you had shared with him. Every sweet affirmation, every gentle touch, just in general the time spent together.

“Hi,” you croaked, observing how his body was brought back to reality at the sound of your voice. He took a few steps closer and removed his signature sunglasses. Seeing his captivating eyes in person for the first time in so long made you tighten the grip around yourself even more, if that was even possible.

“Hey.” His voice didn’t have the same unease as yours, but it was visible on his stance he wasn’t as confident as he usually was. “What brings you here?”

“To the grocery store?”

“Yeah, what brings you to the grocery store?” Satoru repeated awkwardly, trying to play off his weak attempt to make small talk, his cheeks turning to a faded shade of pink.

“Well, I’m going to a barbecue party so just wanted to bring something.”

“Barbecue party. Fun!”

Seeing you again was overwhelming for him as well, and created a twinge of hurt within him. You looked so different from the last time he saw you. There was a hint of a glow in you he hadn’t seen in a long time, and it hit him again that he was the one who had smothered that glow in you in the first place.

Satoru knew he couldn’t continue to lie to himself much longer, and seeing you again was what made him realise that. Right now, looking at you wearing a cute summer dress, looking absolutely stunning, he saw the extreme contrast in your person compared to a month ago. He finally had a clear visual of how his ignorance had truly damaged you, when time away from him had brought a new form of life into you.

What was even worse, was how he could still see the love you had for him in your eyes. From the moment you had gotten together, one could never have doubted the fact that you loved Satoru Gojo. And you’re unwavering love for him had made him feel so safe and seen, like he’d never experienced before. Which was probably the reason he’d let everything get to this point. He knew your feelings for him wouldn’t change if he stayed late a few times, because you never hesitated to show your affection. He just took it for granted he did the same. To him, it wasn’t a question if he was entirely devoted to you, since he was so adamant that he was willing to do absolutely anything for you. He just sort of figured he had given you the same reassurance he’d received. But looking back, he could clearly see that wasn’t the case.

“I hope it’ll be,” you said with a weak smile and his heart fluttered instantly.

“I thought you weren’t big on barbecues though,” he dared chuckle a little.

“I'm not, but figured it was a good opportunity to meet some people.”

He so wanted to reach out his hand and cup your soft cheek, slowly stroking his thumb while his other hand intertwined with yours.

“How are you?” He blurted out, asking the question he had dreaded the answer to.

“Well, I’ve been better,” you stuttered. “But getting there I suppose. Taking it one day at a time. You?”

Whatever dumb thing he thought of answering, trying to conceal how broken he had been the past month, would do no good as you would see right through him. He simply shrugged, which was received by a compassionate, yet sad smile from you.

“You look great, by the way,” he gestured towards you, causing you to blush.

“Thank you,” you whispered, not able to peer your eyes off of him. He was still as gorgeous as ever, but he didn’t look the same. He clearly wasn’t sleeping well, dark circles under his eyes. Knowing him, he probably wasn’t eating well either. But his snow white hair fell the same way, and his eyes looked at you the way they always did. “I have to get going.”

“Wait-“ Satoru quickly interjected, stepping closer again so he was only standing two feet away from you. “Would you like to grab coffee or something sometime?” He sounded so unbelievably innocent, almost like a child as he made his suggestion. He anxiously waited for your answer, his shoulders tense with anticipation.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Gojo.” He flinched ever so slightly at the use of his last name, something you’d never done in the span of your relationship. It created a new distance between the two of you that felt untouchable.

“Don’t you think we could both benefit from talking about everything? I mean, things ended very abruptly-“ he quickly shut up when your friend joined your side, pure fury written all over her.

His posture changed, immediately portraying more confident. He seemed now like the Satoru everyone knew, but you saw through his façade.

“Don’t you have anything better to do than torture this poor girl?”

“We were simply chatting.” Satoru tried to play it cool by flashing your friend a smug grin, but it only seemed to fuel the fire.

“Suddenly have time for her now?” He squinted at her comment, knowing it was more than called for. It didn’t stop the urge he had to fire back at her. “Hope your job promotes you, so it’s all worth it at least.”

“I don’t see how this concerns you,” he replied, trying to keep a considerate tone, but you knew better than to think it was genuine.

“It concerns me when she’s absolutely inconsolable, bawling her eyes out in my apartment.” Your friend didn’t need to go into further detail for him to get a pretty clear picture of the scene. He had, after all, been unfortunate enough to witness it himself.

“I just want a few words with y/n alone,” he said, a hint of desperation in his voice. Your friend was about to continue to argue, but you placed a hand on her shoulder, signaling for her to put down her pitchfork.

“It’s okay,” you took a deep breath. “Just wait by the register and I’ll be with you shortly.” She gave one last stern look in Satoru’s direction before doing as you requested.

Looking at Satoru, his cocky expression had disappeared the second your friend had turned a corner. It felt so bittersweet, seeing the kind person you knew inside out, standing before you so fragile. Old habits die hard, and you felt yourself fighting the urge to stroke his cheek and comfort him.

“Y/n, I just feel like there is a lot of stuff that we’ve left unsaid.” His calm, cool and collected manner had been thrown out the window and he resembled himself the evening of the breakup. “I never got to say my piece or apologise properly.”

“I know,” was all you said, using every fiber of your body to seem levelheaded. You observed how he constantly tried to reach out for you, but stopped himself every time out of respect.

“Believe me when I say, I truly am sorry. I’ve never regretted anything more.”

“I know,” you repeated, same calm tone.

“Maybe it would give us a chance to heal properly if everything is out in the open. So we both know exactly what the other is thinking.”

“Gojo-“

“No, please, listen. I know I messed up and I really want to fix this!” He rambled on, his desperation resembling the one from that night

“Gojo-“

“Maybe even there’s a chance for us-“

“Satoru,” you said sternly, finally silencing his tangent. Your eyes flickered between his as you saw him trying to find the focus to calm his breathing. “Please don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

You saw the heartbreak wash over him, his shoulders falling in disappointment as he whispered your name. You’d missed hearing him speak it with such tender care.

“I am finally starting to get back on track. I’ve even started looking for an apartment,” you said with a sad chuckle. You wanted to show him, and yourself, that you had gotten to the point that you could at least manage to not completely breakdown when you were out in public. “I stand by what I said that night.”

“And you should! You deserve to be loved, and I can be that person. I am that person! There has never been a moment where I haven’t loved you.”

“Satoru, stop it.” You raised your voice slightly. “This is not the time or place for this.” It seemed as it wasn’t until now he was reminded of where you were standing. You gathered up the courage and walked up to him, carefully placing your hand on his cheek. The second you felt his cheek against your hand, you felt as if your skin was on fire.

Satoru didn't hesitate eitherm to place his big hand over yours as hea leaned into your touch. His eyes became glossy, realising how much he had craved feeling your skin against him again. “I just think I need to be the most important person in my life for a while.” He slowly began to nod in agreement, and you heard his breath began to quicken like it had done previously.

He licked his lips, trying to find his words. “See you around then?” His voice was unsteady and his chin quivered.

“Yeah, probably,” you spoke sadly. You let your hand fall from his face, but he held onto your hand until you were too far away. In a way, it felt as if both of you were aware that your story wasn’t over just yet. Satoru was right, there was a lot of stuff still left out in the open which made you believe there were still chapters to be written, whether they were good or bad. But it brought you some form of comfort.

Drying the single tear that had fallen from your eye, you turned away and began to walk away. “You look beautiful, darling,” he said, making your head turn one last time. You gave him a sad smile before he disappeared out of view.

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tags: @alisstaa

a/n: oh my, thank you guys so much for all the positive feedback on part one. it is greatly appreciated and really motivates me to write. that being said, i am not as happy with part two as part one but i rewrote it like two times and i guess it's alright. its more important you like it rather than i. hope you guys like it, and again thank you guys so so much for the feedback. reblogs, comments are greatly valued

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krirebr · 3 days

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Beyond These Walls in Front of Me

Pairing: dark!Andy Barber x f!reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Summary: Andy brings you into a new part of your home. Part of the Trapped AU.

Warnings: Dark elements, kidnapping, human trafficking, training, references to punishment, isolation - Just trust me when I say that this is dark. All of my work is 18+ - Minors DNI

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Masterlist

A/N: And here is the winner of the poll I posted last week, asking you all to help me choose the next part of this AU to work on. Of all the options, this was the one that was least fleshed out in my head, but I really like how it turned out! A quick reminder that this is an out-of-order AU, so this one is obviously after reader's first day but before Christmas.

Big thanks as always to @paperweight91 who always tolerates me sending countless screenshots and answered my endless questions of "Is this too much? Not enough? Does it make sense??"

Any comment, reblog, or ask to let me know what you think will be greatly appreciated. Even if it's just screeching at me. As always, thank you so much for reading! 💜

You woke up at the buzz of your wristband. Andy’s arm was slung over your side as he snuffled into your neck in his sleep. You took a moment just to breathe, to gather your strength for the day. You could afford that time, you hoped. You didn’t think it’d put you behind schedule. Then, you got up, exceedingly careful not to disturb the man who shared your bed. You had learned your lesson, there. It was time to start your morning routine.

You took a shower, and using all the products he liked, cleaned yourself thoroughly. Once you were done and dried off, you applied moisturizer to your entire body. You’d given yourself a manicure and pedicure yesterday, so your hands and feet shouldn’t need attention, but you still double-checked to make sure the polish hadn’t chipped. Then it was time for hair and makeup.

Andy liked the sort of ‘low-maintenance, natural’ look that actually took forty-five minutes so you didn’t have time to waste. You got out all your toners, primers, serums, powders, gels, stains, etc. Thank god for the wide counter and twin sinks because you needed all that room to make yourself perfect for him. You avoided looking yourself in the eye in the mirror as much as you could. You already knew what you would find there. Emptiness. You didn’t need to see it again.

Once your makeup was done and your hair was in one of his approved styles, you tiptoed into the walk-in closet that he’d left unlocked and put on the outfit he’d picked out for you last night. It was a dress. Of course, it was. It always was. You hadn’t worn pants in… well, you weren’t sure how long. Time was slippery these days.

You stepped back into the bedroom to find Andy just starting to stir. You closed your eyes for just a moment, bracing yourself, then went to his side of the bed. With a gentle hand, you brushed his hair back from his face, then placed a soft kiss on his forehead. “Good morning, sir,” you cooed. Your hand traveled down from the top of his head to cup his cheek, just how he liked, and he nuzzled into it as he hummed sleepily. He didn’t open his eyes though, so you slowly pulled back your hand and made your way to the bedroom door.

You held your wristband up to the sensor and the door unlocked. You knew that if you looked back, you’d see Andy’s phone on his nightstand, lit up with the alert. So you didn’t look back.

As you walked down the hall, you couldn’t help the way you sort of held your breath as you walked past the punishment room as quickly as you could. Andy had taken to leaving its door open lately, in case you needed the reminder. You kept your eyes forward and didn’t look inside.

Once you got to the kitchen, you immediately started preparing breakfast. Andy had mentioned last night that he was in the mood for pancakes, so you got out the ingredients, along with eggs and bacon, and got to work. Breakfast was the most stressful meal to make because the timing was so delicate. Take too long and it wouldn’t be ready when he came out, which would displease him. But make things too quickly and they would just sit and get cold, which you had learned quickly also made him angry. So you kept an ear open to the bedroom and hoped for the best.

It lined up well today because just as you were stacking the last pancake on the serving plate, Andy came out and wrapped himself around your back at the stove. He was wearing sweats and a T-shirt, so it must be Saturday. That meant you’d gotten to sleep in a little this morning. How nice.

“Good morning, Sweetheart,” he rumbled, in between peppering kisses down your neck.

You didn’t shrug him off. “Good morning, Sir,” you said. “Breakfast is ready.”

He made a hungry little moan into your neck. “Everything smells so fucking good. Including you.” He finally let you go, picked up the cup of coffee you had ready for him, and took his seat at the table.

When you brought the food over to him, he tilted his head up in expectation. Without grimacing, you lowered your head and kissed him. He took control, as always, with a hand on the back of your head. The most important thing was not resisting him. You’d learned that the hard way.

Once he released you, you started to move away so you could make your own breakfast (oatmeal and fresh fruit like usual), when he grabbed your hand, stopping you. “Hold on,” he said. “There’s something we need to talk about.”

Your stomach dropped. No. What had you done wrong?? You’d been trying so hard to be good! You were good. You were.

You nervously glanced at him to find him looking at you curiously. He held your gaze for a moment, then commanded, “Kneel.”

You froze, for just a second. This was new. You weren’t sure where it was going. Maybe he wanted you to keep his cock warm while he ate. You could do that. You could. You could do a lot of things if it kept you out of the punishment room.

You dropped to your knees at his feet, looking up at him through your lashes and a wide smile bloomed on his face. He gently cupped your cheek with his hand and cooed, “Such a good girl.” Then he straightened his hand and tapped your cheek twice with his fingers. “Get up, sweetheart.”

You stood up, visibly confused, and let him guide you onto his lap. He just held you there for a bit, just stroking his hand up and down your arm. When he finally spoke, he said, “You’ve been so good lately. So obedient. I’ve noticed how hard you’ve been trying. How much you’ve improved.”

You didn’t need any prompting to say, “Thank you, sir.”

“You’re welcome, sweetheart. That’s why I think you’re ready.”

Your brows furrowed. “Ready for what, sir?”

The smile he gave you was gentle, proud. “To move upstairs with me.”

“Upstairs?” you gasped. You didn’t know how to react to that. Upstairs had always been a far-off future thing. Just do what he says so you can get upstairs had always been the mantra, but now that the time had come, what did it mean? What should you do?

“Yes, sweetheart,” he said. “Upstairs. We finally get to start our lives together.”

“I–” you started and stopped, suddenly overcome by fear. You didn’t know what was upstairs. You only knew the basement, only knew what to expect in the basement. “What do I need to do, sir?” you finally asked.

“Right now,” he said, his tone full of amusement, “why don’t you get me another cup of coffee? Then you can make yourself breakfast and when you’re done eating, clean up the kitchen. I’ll take a shower after breakfast, that should give you some time. Then I’ll bring you upstairs.”

You hated the relief you felt at knowing what to do. “Yes sir,” you said as you scrambled off his lap and headed straight to the coffee maker. Andy watched you with a satisfied grin on his face.

You turned around halfway up the stairs, Andy right behind you. “You’re sure this is ok, sir?” What if this was a trick or a test? What if he changed his mind when you got to the top and you’d be punished?

He just raised an eyebrow. “Are you second-guessing me, sweetheart?” His tone was still light, but you knew you’d messed up.

You shook your head frantically. “No! No, sir. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry! Whatever you want, I’ll do whatever you want.”

He brushed his fingertips down your cheek. “I know you will, sweetheart. Now, turn around and keep going.”

You did as he said and finished climbing the stairs. When you got to the top, you tried the door but it wouldn’t budge. You held your wristband up to the sensor but nothing happened. Oh god. As you started to turn around to ask him what to do, he crowded into you, pressing you into the door, covering you with his body so you couldn’t see what he was doing. But you heard the beeps of a keypad.

And then his arm wrapped around your stomach to hold you as he opened the door and he was nudging you onto the main floor.

The first thing you noticed was how bright it was. There were windows! Sunlight was streaming in. As soon as Andy let go of you, you ran to the nearest window and turned your face up into the light. Maybe it was just wishful thinking, but you swore you could feel the sun’s warmth through the glass. You hadn’t seen daylight in… you had no idea. You hadn’t been able to keep track of time down there, but months. It must have been months. Tears started to gather in your eyes and you tried to blink them away. He only liked it when you cried during sex or punishments, otherwise you were being manipulative. You couldn’t do anything that would rob you of this sunlight.

“Sweetheart,” he called from behind you. When you didn’t register that, he called your name, a hint of sternness sneaking into his tone. That got your attention and you looked over your shoulder. “Come here,” he said.

You pulled yourself from the window and went to stand in front of him. He put his hand on your cheek and ran his thumb over your bottom lip. “Now,” he said seriously, “being upstairs comes with a lot of privileges, but it doesn’t mean you can forget all your rules, ok? Or that you’re done training. I expect you to be just as good up here as you were down there. And if we have to go back downstairs, for whatever reason, I need you to know that it will be much worse for you. Do you understand?”

You nodded quickly. “Yes, sir.”

He smiled, big and genuine and you thought briefly of how that smile would make you melt on anyone else. “You can call me Andy now, sweetheart. That’s one of the privileges I was talking about.”

“Thank you, sir,” you said, the honorific so engrained in you it just tumbled out. “I mean, Andy,” you corrected yourself hurriedly, committing the new rule to memory. “Thank you, Andy.”

He cupped your cheek. “You're welcome sweetheart,” he cooed. “I am gonna miss the way you say ‘sir,’ though,” he added with a lascivious glint in his eye.

You stood as still as you could as he ran his thumb under your eye, collecting the tears that had gathered there. He looked you dead in the eye, and you couldn’t help but lower your eyes in response. “Come on,” he said, with a grin in his voice. “Let me give you a tour of the house.”

He took you into the kitchen first, of course, and immediately started extolling all its virtues, but you couldn’t hear him. And you could only see one thing. On the stove, in the middle of all the controls, was a digital clock. It read 10:37. It was the morning because of the light streaming through the windows. (There were even more in this room. There were windows everywhere.) And it was Saturday because Andy was home today and he hadn’t been home yesterday. It was 10:37 on a Saturday morning. Holy shit. Downstairs, you hadn’t had any indication of time passing other than the buzz of your wristband letting you know it was time to get up, or start a chore, or make a meal. But now, it was 10:37. And the next time you looked at it, you would know exactly how much time had passed since now. Time would mean something. You wouldn’t be adrift anymore.

You were crying. You couldn’t help it. Andy turned back to you, one hand still on one of the two stacked ovens that were built into the cabinetry as the other moved to his hip. “What’s wrong?” he asked harshly.

You shook your head urgently. “Nothing, nothing’s wrong. I’m sorry, Andy.”

“Tell me the truth, sweetheart,” he said, with that tone that said you were on your way to the quiet room, at the very least.

Your eyes darted around the kitchen frantically, trying to find an answer that would appease him. “No, it’s nothing. I’m alright. I just– It’s so much. I’m– I’m overwhelmed. I feel so much.” It was much more honest than you usually were with him, not counting the early days when you would scream what you really thought of him before you understood the consequences. But you didn’t know what else to say.

He took a few steps, closing the space between you and it took every muscle in your body to make yourself stand your ground, not flinch away. As soon as he was close enough, he pulled you into his arms, hugging you tightly. “Oh, honey,” he said, his tone so much gentler than before. “I know. I’m so happy to have you up here, too. This is going to be so good for us.” He just stood and held you, running a soft hand up and down your back. After a few moments, he asked, “Ready to see the rest of the house?”

You knew the correct answer, so you ducked your head and said, “Yes, Andy,” as he released you. He grabbed your hand tightly and quickly tugged you into the next room.

You absently took in the large sectional, the big TV on one of the walls, more windows, but mostly you were struck by how much bigger the living room was than its basement counterpart. You’d assumed, foolishly, apparently, that the square footage of where you’d been living roughly matched the main floor above it, but as you looked around you were sure that this floor at least doubled where you’d spent the last who knows how long. You couldn’t help the shiver that traveled through you as you wondered what else was down there.

There was a dining room and another sitting room next but you weren’t taking anything in, couldn’t describe anything about this house if pressed other than typical upscale suburban fare. It fit him. You had the sudden, chilling, thought that maybe it would fit you too someday. Soon. If you continued to become who he wanted you to be. Because you already were. As much as you’d tried to stay yourself, especially at the beginning, you felt all the ways he’d ground you down, all the ways you’d changed. You remembered how easily you’d slipped down to your knees just an hour or so before. Just because he’d told you to. You wanted to cry again, but you wouldn’t. He wouldn’t like that. And wasn’t that just all there was?

As you came upon the stairs leading to the next floor, you stopped dead in your tracks without thinking, your hand falling out of Andy’s now lax grip. The front door. It was just… right there. For anyone to use. Anyone to enter. Or exit. A thousand thoughts flew through your mind all at once. You could just run. Right now. Maybe with the element of surprise, you’d get a head start. There were hooks on the wall, and on one of them hung a set of keys, what looked like car keys with a few others. Grab them and run and maybe you could do it! But where would you go? You didn’t know this neighborhood, this town. You didn’t have anyone you could go to for help. You didn’t have any form of ID. Last you knew, Andy had all of your papers and cards locked up in his safe. And those were all the new ones he’d gotten for you. Your original identity, your real one had been destroyed. You knew. He’d made you watch him do it.

As you argued with yourself, on the verge of saying fuck it and making a run for it despite all the reasons not to, you noticed a small black sensor to the right of the doorknob, identical to the ones downstairs. The ones that your wristband would unlock only if it was an authorized time. The ones Andy controlled on his phone.

You looked up to find him already on the first stair, his gaze locked on you. Your indecision couldn’t have lasted that long. Just a few seconds, if that. But, as he stared at you, you felt like he could see every thought you’d ever had. You wanted to shrink back, maybe run down the stairs to the basement before he threw you there himself, crawl into the punishment room, and beg for mercy.

But before you could do anything, he held out his hand. “Ready to see the bedrooms?” he asked. His face was completely blank, his tone betraying nothing.

You tried to do the same, to not shake or look or sound guilty as you said, “Yes, Andy,” and took his hand, letting him guide you up the stairs.

On the second floor, he brought you down the hall, bypassing several doors before pulling you into the room right at the end. It was huge, was your first thought. So much bigger than the room you’d spent the last who knows how long in. The walls were painted a light blue-gray, all the furniture – dressers and nightstands, a much darker gray. The bed was one of the biggest you’d seen, Californian King at least, maybe even Alaskan. It was covered with plush, fluffy bedding and lots of pillows, all in different shades of blue, with a light gray, stuffed, and quilted headboard resting against the wall. It all screamed luxury and relaxation. You were reminded of those home improvement shows you used to watch when you had the freedom to. They’d talk about how your bedroom should be a sanctuary, everything chosen to inspire relaxation and calmness. This was the sort of room they were talking about. You could have laughed, as all you could feel was the foreboding presence of Andy, standing by the door, watching your every move. You’d never relax in here.

You continued to explore the room, trying to act like you couldn’t feel his suffocating gaze on you. Your eyes slid over the ensuite to the two walk-in closets. You immediately noticed that there were no locks on the doors. Did that mean you’d be allowed to pick out your own clothes? And did that even matter if everything was chosen by him in the first place?

You turned back to find that he’d taken several steps closer to where you stood in the middle of the room. “I know,” he said, “that I should’ve shown you the other rooms first, but I’ve been desperate to get you inside our room, see what you look like in it.” His arms came up around you, pulling you tight to him. “You’re perfect. You fit perfectly. In this whole house. You feel it too, don’t you, sweetheart?”

“Yes, Andy,” you said by rote, but you did feel it. You knew exactly what he meant. You fit perfectly, just like the nightstands, or the couch downstairs, all the tables and chairs. Just another piece of furniture that he picked out specifically to make his home perfect.

His hand came up under your chin, tilting your face so that you had to make eye contact. “I’m so happy I bought you,” his words chilled you as he went out of his way to remind you of your place here. “You were worth every penny.”

You closed your eyes for the shortest moment, letting yourself feel the horror. Then you opened them, met his gaze, and said, “Thank you, Andy.”

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#dark andy barber #dark!andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber x you #andy barber x female reader #andy barber #defending jacob #basement wife au #dark fic #dark!fic #fanfic #chris evans characters #chris evans fanfiction #kris wrote something #reader insert

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1d1195 · 15 hours

Text

Ding - Round 3

Read Ding here | ~6.5k words

Warnings: scummy man appearance, angst involving the frustration/grief/sadness of the last part regarding her shitty experience with said scummy man, fluff

Summary: Harry wants to know what happened to Cupcake. She really isn't sure she wants to tell him. Until she has to.

From me: NEW DIVIDER BY @babegoals THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR CREATIVITY AND SUPPORT AND JUST EXISTING 💕

Harry was mad.

Fuming. He had thought about nothing else but seeing her for the last two months and now that he had seen her, he was pissed to see her at his self-defense class. He asked her the same question about ten times throughout the instruction. He was furious and irritated that everyone else needed his help (even though it was literally what he was being paid for) when all he wanted was to talk to her.

He was all for helping women feel empowered. But he was mad she needed it. He knew she was feisty. The fact that she was there said a lot in its own right. The way she bantered with him until three in the morning texting him the other night made him smile more than he could describe. It was flirty and sweet. But always had him guessing if she would suddenly stop messaging for one reason or another.

Someone like her needed someone—maybe even someone like Harry—to make sure nothing bad ever happened to her. And he knew. He knew why women went to self-defense classes. He had been teaching these classes since before he owned his own gym.

He knew.

"Why are y’here, Cupcake?" He asked gruffly. The other women nearby were all but forgotten. One was mid-sentence, asking to clarify something Louis had said. Harry was practically rude to just ignore her question in favor of his own.

“Umm... for self-defense,” she muttered trying to focus on Louis’ answer.

Harry didn’t want her banter right now. (As cute as it was to him, despite his irritation.) “Right. But usually everyone has a story that... convinces themselves t’sign up. So what’s your story?” He repeated.

He watched the way her cheeks warmed at his assessment, and she folded her arms protectively in front of her. Guarding herself. “That’s kind of personal, Harry.”

Once Harry’s anger took hold, it was hard to backtrack. “Listen,” he shook his head. The annoyance that clouded his eyes and covered his face was so obvious, she felt the slightest bit bad about interrupting his lesson with her own issues. “M’not good at this kind of thing, Cupcake. Being subtle. I punch people for a minimal living and work the rest of m’time here, teaching people how t’punch.”

Part of her wanted to break down and tell him. Because as much as she was willing to do this on her own, she was so scared. That nervousness made her feel even weaker, and she wanted to tell Harry, she realized. She wanted someone to know and to help her because this wasn’t something she wanted to deal with on her own—it was too much.

But she couldn’t do it right in the middle of a self-defense lesson, surrounded by strangers. “I’m here to learn how to punch,” her voice was even and final.

His nostrils flared and he stalked back to the front of the room, a trail of anger coming off him as he did. He wasn’t going to get anywhere with her.

The remainder of the lesson went by without incident on Harry’s part. He watched her the entire time. The way she flinched when they practiced moves made him nauseous. But he couldn’t help but notice how good her stances were. Almost natural. “Hey, love,” Louis smiled at her kindly as he geared up to practice more tactile moves. “You liked his match so much you wanted to try on your own?” He asked.

She smiled, but it didn’t fully reach her eyes. “Something like that.”

“It’s good skills to have,” he assured her gently, because even though Harry’s infatuation annoyed him at the time, he knew Harry liked her. A lot. Knew just as well as Harry did why women signed up for a self-defense class. “You have a very natural stance,” he noted. “We should get you in the ring,” he winked at her.

She laughed lightly. “I don’t even know how to make a fist,” she snorted.

Louis chuckled giving her a gentle shoulder squeeze and moved onto the next person.

Harry moved in front of her next and he looked at her footing. Aligned near perfectly and practiced as if she had been doing it her whole life. He was still steaming with anger. It rolled off him and demanded to be felt—and she felt every bit of it. “S’like you’ve done this before,” he muttered.

“I haven’t,” she answered. “I’m just good at following directions. Like a recipe, you know?”

He was staring at her feet and trailed up to her hand where he carefully took hold of her delicate fingers. Instantly, it felt like her whole arm was made of jelly. Her heart took off about the speed of an airplane and she was lucky she could hear anything over the sound of it. Harry touching her skin made her feel faint. Carefully, he bent her fingers and tucked her thumb below the flat of her knuckles. It felt so intimate it seemed wrong to be doing this in a class put on for the public. Holding her wrist, he brought her fist to his cheek and tapped it against his skin a few times. “Like that,” he murmured.

She wanted to be cute and smile. Say something like, I’ll keep that in mind for strangers in dark parking lots when I ding their car. But instead, she was overcome with gratitude for the knowledge and a bit of awe. She was speechless without meaning to be. He released her wrist, and she wanted nothing more than to grab his hand again and never let go. “Thank you,” she whispered. He nodded sullenly.

Harry felt defeated—something he didn’t enjoy at all. Rarely did he feel it, but he wished he felt defeated after a match more so than he did right then. All he could do was walk away from her and finish the lesson without chatting with her again.

In hindsight, confronting her in the middle of a self-defense lesson wasn’t his wisest choice. The following morning, he had a renewed spirit and was once more determined to chat with her and figure out what made her join a self-defense class.

What he hadn’t anticipated was how stubborn she could be. He should have known but he was willing to dig his heels in as long as she was. Harry went to the bakery morning, noon, and night—literally—trying to figure out her schedule. “Again?” The girl behind the counter asked suspiciously when they returned at four in the afternoon on the third day of waiting. She had been there all day and hadn’t said anything up until their third arrival.

Niall shook his head and sighed. “Sorry, darling. He’s being super creepy, yeah?” Niall elbowed him with irritation. They sat at a table as they had the last few days. They didn’t stay long, only fifteen minutes to half an hour. (And they only stayed half an hour once because Niall had to get one of the cronuts that he had been pining for since he saw them.)

Harry was looking at their text message thread. The last message was from him. Are you working now? C’mon, Cupcake, you’re killing me here :(

It went unanswered since yesterday afternoon.

“He’s trying to talk to Miss Cupcake,” Niall rolled his eyes. He missed the back and forth between the girl behind the counter. “But I think he’s being a bit ridiculous.”

“Oh, were you her bad date?” She frowned.

Harry was still looking at his phone, checking his schedules, and making sure he didn’t miss anything in his email or messages from his mum or sister. But the moment the girl behind the counter spoke, his head snapped up to meet her gaze.

“What bad date?” He asked, his voice low, menacing.

The girl behind the counter blanched. Feeling bad she revealed something she obviously wasn’t supposed to and quite honestly, if he was her bad date, that was a horrible thing to announce. It was a reflex. “I don’t know, actually,” she tried to backtrack. “I don’t know why I said that out loud.”

“We won’t tell, darling,” Niall assured her. “Do you know when Miss Cupcake works, it would save Harry—and you—a lot of trouble.”

“OH!” She shook her head and went around to the front of the counter. Her eyes widened. “You’re Harry. Context clues, I didn’t recognize you without gloves,” she smiled excitedly. “Thank goodness, I almost closed this place down.”

Harry turned to the girl again feeling a warmth pass over him at the idea that she talked about him to her friend. “Oh brother, so she does like Harry?” Niall grumbled.

“I’m Maeve,” she announced.

“Maeve,” Harry stood up and held his hand out to her. “Nice to meet you.”

“You have a very cute niece.”

Now Harry really couldn’t help but smile because that little girl was practically his own pride and joy. And she was very cute. Plus, it meant she really was talking about Harry to her friend and that had to mean something. “Thank you, she’s perfect,” he agreed. But then he refocused on why he was haunting the bakery. “Does she not work during the day?”

“She pops in,” Maeve shrugged and fiddled with the cupcake display. He noted there was a raspberry filled one on the top tier. He recognized that cake and frosting pair anywhere. “But she’s been mostly coming in after close,” she admitted. “She’s been a little...stingy with details about everything. She gets like this sometimes. Compartmentalizes things so she can deal with it when she needs to,” Maeve bit her lip. “She’s visiting her dad right now.”

Harry realized there was very little he really knew about her. Most of their chatting had surrounded the bakery, boxing, and Harry’s niece. There was a little bit of information about their education and some books and hobbies they liked. But there wasn’t a huge depth of knowledge of her family.

“Oh,” Harry felt defeated again. “Uh... I guess we’ll go then,” he mumbled. “Try later.”

Maeve sighed. “She really likes you, Harry. Really,” she promised with a sad smile. “She’s just...a little stubborn and careful with her heart.”

Harry nodded. “Got it,” he could handle that.

She parked as close as she could to the bakery in the parking lot. Thinking about all the steps and stances that Louis and Harry had told her during her class. She took a deep breath and opened her car door. As she went to the back of her car to grab supplies from her trunk, she noticed a plethora of other cars parked in the lot—most people were probably at the restaurant near the waterfront. But there was no way she could miss the car she had accidentally dinged with her door just a few spaces down and across the row from her.

Once more, her gaze met the intense green gaze in the driver’s seat. She sighed knowing there was no escaping this talk anymore. Harry put a bookmark in the novel he was reading while waiting and set it on the passenger seat beside him. He locked his car and hurried to her side, taking the heavy bags of flour and sugar she bought to tide her over until the delivery came to the bakery in the morning. He didn’t speak to her as they walked to the storefront. She was overwhelmingly aware, once more, how safe she felt with Harry beside her in the nearly deserted parking lot. She unlocked the front and held the door open for Harry to enter. “Were you waiting long?” She asked.

He shrugged, putting the supplies on his now regular table while she fiddled with the display case and cupcake display once more. The raspberry one was missing from the top and she went behind the counter to get another. Harry closed the door and locked it, so she was safe inside. It was dark, the only light was a low soft glow coming from the case of treats. It had the glow of a candle, and he wondered if there was a way to keep it that way during the day because it was so warm it made him want one of everything that was in the display. “Yes,” he nodded. “S’okay.”

That felt worse. If he was willing to admit it, it meant he was there a while.

“I’m sorry,” her cheeks felt warm. “I should have just told you when I was working,” she was willing to admit when she was wrong. Harry watched in fascination as she placed the raspberry filled cupcake on top. He wondered if it had always been the one she put on top. He would have imagined the chocolate ganache one was a fan favorite, or the vanilla sprinkles one with the little toothpick and label of A Pinch of Sprinkles on it.

He shrugged again, nearly indifferent. “S’okay,” he repeated. “Read most of my book.”

“Is it a good read?” She asked and grabbed the bag of flour Harry had settled on the table and started for the back. He grabbed the bag of sugar and followed behind her.

He nodded. “Yeah...it’s,” he sighed. “S’a little darker than I expected,” he shrugged. “Was hoping for something lighter.”

“I only read rom-coms in book form,” she smiled. “It’s very light reading, but probably not what you want.”

“Rom-coms?” He repeated. She nodded. “Y’don’t strike me as a rom-com kind of girl.”

“No?”

“Y’seem more like a film noir or suspense.”

“I’ve had enough suspense for a while,” she muttered and turned to her ovens to preheat. Harry placed the sugar beside the flour bag and sat in the same chair he sat in when he fell asleep a couple months prior. He watched her in the same way he had before as she flittered around the kitchen, humming to herself as she worked. “How’s the baby?” She asked.

They were ignoring the elephant in the room, it seemed. But it was the first time he’d seen her since the self-defense lesson. In between his visits to the bakery (his stalking grounds, as Niall was calling it) he had been splitting his time between training, teaching, and ensuring Driven, his gym, was working as expected. He had to call an electrician because the lights in the men’s bathroom kept going out despite the fact, he had already replaced the circuit and lightbulbs a handful of times. But he had gone to see Gemma and his niece two days prior to get his fix of the sweet little girl who made him feel so much better about all the frustration he felt about his favorite Cupcake.

He couldn’t help but smile. “Perfect.”

She grinned back and nodded. “Good, and your sister?”

“Good, thanks for asking,” he thought that was polite of her—he always noticed when people asked about his sister. It wasn’t often. Once the baby was there, it was like they forgot about the mum.

“Does your mom live nearby?” She asked.

“Yeah, especially with the baby. Mum sold her house the moment she found out Gem was pregnant.”

She laughed. “That’s sweet. You’re all close?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “Mum’s m’hero,” his voice was filled with admiration so thick it made her feel wobbly on her feet. She wished she had that kind of admiration for her mother. “How ‘bout you? Maeve said y’were visiting your dad? He lives nearby?”

She nodded, guarded. “I feel the way about my dad, the way you feel about your mom,” she explained. There was a pause in conversation that seemed to stretch farther than it needed to. Maybe he was trying to get her to break first. Perhaps she did. “You talked to Maeve?”

He looked at her, tapping his fingers lightly on the table. “Didn’t leave me many options, Cupcake,” he reminded her.

She swallowed thickly, nodded. “That’s fair,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“Can you please tell me?”

She shook her head. Harry felt so agitated, so defeated. “Not yet,” the bit of hope creeped back in. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she admitted, her voice cracking slightly. She swallowed the lump of emotion in her throat and turned away from him. “Sorry,” she sniffled. His heart broke. Quickly, he realized it wasn’t her wanting to hide it from him. It was painful to watch that frustration fall on her face.

“Oh, kitten,” he frowned. He stood quickly and made it to her side. He put a hand on her shoulder comfortingly not wanting to touch more than she wanted or needed in that moment. His imagination could only guess what went wrong on her date and it was painful to think about for him. He wanted to comfort her, but it had to be at her pace.

At once she melted into his touch. She turned quickly, almost reflexively into his embrace. Her face pressed against his shoulder, her arms wrapped up around his back, and she inhaled shakily. It felt awful to see her sad, feel the anxiety coming off her in waves. But Harry was grateful to hold her so close to him. “M’here, Cupcake,” he promised. She squeezed her eyes shut tighter, nodded against him.

Harry could live with ‘not yet.’ For now.

Over the next week, they went back to texting throughout the day and chatting well beyond bedtime on the nights she wasn’t at the bakery. Additionally, Harry walked beside her from her car to the bakery when she arrived and back through the dark parking lot. Not once did he ask her what went wrong with her date even though it was killing him. She wasn’t budging. She knew Harry was waiting for more details, but she couldn’t. It hurt and she didn’t want to think about it—even if she actually did want to tell him. It was overwhelmingly kind that Harry appeared beside her car—especially at night.

“I’m still really sorry about Clay,” she frowned. Harry didn’t park far away from her like he did the other night. But she was very mindful of her opening the door and not bumping into his car.

“S’okay,” he smiled and rubbed his fingers on the little indent. “Reminds me of you,” he winked at her.

Her heart fluttered and she looked away briefly before smiling back at him. “Like you need more reminders of me,” she murmured.

“Can never have enough, Cupcake,” he assured her. “Can I kiss y’goodnight?” He asked on the third night he walked her though the dark parking lot. Her heart literally skipped a beat. Speechless. He tapped his cheek. “Jus’ the cheek, kitten. Need a proper date before I really kiss you,” he acknowledged and smiled shyly at her. That boyish grin that made her weak in the knees. Breathlessly she nodded. His lips swept across her cheek. It was brief and soft. Like a piece of her hair had brushed over her face and tickled her skin. “Thank you,” he grinned. “Been dying t’do that,” he admitted and once more tucked her safely in her car.

Harry mentioned it only twice more. He never pressed or demanded she reveal the facts of her bad date. It was more of—what he hoped was—a gentle reminder. He was waiting for more information. All he wanted was to assuage her worries and fears. She attended the second class for her self-defense lessons (dropping off a box of blueberry scones at the front desk had everyone in the class asking if they could go after the lesson to pick out their own sweet treats). Harry continued to boil with anger just thinking about her using the moves he and Louis taught her. But it was obvious he was much less angry than the previous week. More so, his anger didn’t extend to her. He was mad, but he understood her choice to keep it to herself.

Louis was going over demonstrations using Harry as the attacker. Everyone watched with rapt attention. “Your goal is to get away,” it was repeated about a hundred times and Harry had the hardest time watching her every time it was repeated. Each time it was said, she flinched. He wasn’t sure she knew it or not—it was a reflex. But she did get away. It terrified her still.

Harry couldn’t help but notice she wasn’t pushing him away. Every night, she thanked him profusely for coming to the bakery and walking her to and from the car. She could see his anger growing beneath the surface. He wanted to know. She was trying so hard to brush it off. It wasn’t a big deal. Now she had two classes under her belt, and she promised herself she would never be in such a vulnerable position again.

“Can I watch you at work?” She asked randomly. It was a morning shift this time. She was covered in flour, and she had frosting streaked in her hair leftover from when she put it up after icing four dozen cupcakes. Harry didn’t think she could look cuter if she tried.

“Watch me?” He repeated.

“Not this again,” she smirked.

He chuckled. “Y’want to watch me train?” He repeated anyway.

She shrugged. “You always watch me bake and stuff.”

“You’ve attended the class, Cupcake. S’pretty much the same thing,” he reminded her.

He noted her cheeks turned pink. “Um...if you don’t want me to hang around then—”

Harry nearly gasped. “Oh, no. No way, kitten. I want y’around. I promise,” he assured her. “Jus’ don’t want you t’be bored.”

“I won’t be,” she shook her head.

That was how she ended up sitting beside the ring, Louis padded and guarded while Harry punched and punched and punched for over an hour. His breath was heaving, and his body was slick with sweat. She watched intently examining his form and his moves like she would one day repeat them.

When he came for water at the end of his training session, he was heavy breathing and smiling at her. He struggled to get the towel he had from his bag beside her with his gloves on. “Bored?” He asked.

“Not even a little,” she assured him, grabbing the little towel and swiping it across his forehead. It felt intimate and made Harry feel warm all throughout his body. “Can I try?” She asked with an impish smile.

He chuckled and nodded. “Come on,” he held the ropes open for her to enter the ring. She wasn’t wearing the right shoes or equipment. Louis rolled his eyes discreetly at Harry and held the pads out for her to hit. “Make the fist I showed you,” she did for both hands. “S’all the balance in your legs,” he promised. “No balance, no punch, no follow-through. Punch through the pad,” he explained and guided her hand to the pad slowly so she could see how it would look and feel to go through it.

“Pretend it’s Harry,” Louis suggested. “That’s what I do.”

She giggled. “I don’t think I could throw a punch if I thought it was Harry,” she admitted and gave her best attempt. It was honestly exhausting. She only threw a dozen or so punches and was breathless as she answered Louis.

“You’ll get there,” he assured her.

Harry scowled at him. “Take the pads off.”

“No, you lunatic.”

“Coward.”

She giggled, thanked Louis, and twisted herself out of the ring again. “That was fun,” she told him. “I can see why you like it. Plus, you’re really good at it.”

Harry was staring at her, the way that sent all the butterflies in the world directly to her stomach and began to flutter as if they were trying to escape. His gaze was firm but gentle, his eyes almost glowing somehow as he looked her over. “Please tell me, Cupcake. I want t’help,” his voice was quiet, begging ever so gently.

She looked at the floor, their shoes were nearly toe-to-toe. “I can’t,” she whispered back.

He nodded, defeat did not come easy to him, and she knew that. “I have t’shower, do some office stuff. Get ready for some lessons and classes,” he told her, his voice the slightest bit disappointed.

“Want me to watch you in the shower too?” She asked hoping to alleviate the mood. It worked, his smile returned to his pretty lips, and he chuckled.

“Hell yes, Cupcake,” he shook his head at her cuteness. “Maybe next time. Not here,” he winked.

Even though it was her that was forward it still made her blush. Plus, joke or not, she agreed here was not a good idea. “I have to do some errands anyway,” she admitted.

“I’ll walk you t’your car,” but she knew he would. It was like a safety blanket being wrapped around her.

She really liked it.

After her third self-defense lesson she was feeling more confident. She even showed Maeve some of her moves in the back kitchen. Shadowboxing the same way that she saw Harry do to Louis the night she met him. “I don’t know who thought it was a good idea to give the Queen of Sugar boxing lessons,” Maeve rolled her eyes.

Honestly, she was feeling better. More confident. Plus, she was enjoying her not-so-date-dates with Harry. There was one night when Harry wasn’t around, and she realized she missed him so much. Not only because the dark parking lot seemed more foreboding but because his presence made her happy. Happier than she had been in a really long time. It felt undeserving to be so happy but it wasn’t something she thought about when he was actually there. I missed you.

Oh? 😍

Sorry, I know that’s...

A lot...

I miss you all the time, Cupcake. Think about you all day.

The message made her warm and she wished she could explain how simple it seemed to just have Harry fit in her life. They were busy people, but he always managed to come by and see her. She enjoyed watching him train or sitting with Sarah at the front desk and chatting while he taught classes and lessons. Maeve teased her every time he arrived and she wasn’t there. Can’t you just give him your schedule? The poor guy is going to have to train twice as hard to get rid of the extra cupcake weight.

I like to keep him guessing a little 😉

Today, she was up front on her own—one of her employees called out sick and she didn’t mind in the slightest. Working up front was one of her favorite tasks. Interacting with customers and sharing her gift was something she enjoyed thoroughly. Her other coworker was out back, working on inventory and prepping the bagels for her monthly bagel sale.

Ding.

The bell attached to the front door signaled whenever customers arrived or departed. It was a busy morning. So busy that it took her a minute to realize Harry was sitting with Niall at one of the tables. Niall gave her a wave as she finally got caught in his gaze. She waved back, smiling brightly and paused the customers that were at the counter while she ran to the back and then to the table as quickly as she could. She pecked Harry on the cheek without thinking and deposited a raspberry filled cupcake and a personal sized loaf of Irish soda bread.

Harry felt as gooey as the filling on the inside of his cupcake. Her soft little kiss made him crazier for her. Watching her made him happy. Being around her made him happy. Happier than the little kid that was bullied could have dreamed.

Niall was making noises that would have embarrassed the porn industry while eating his bread. Harry snorted at him, tried to steal a piece, only for Niall to slap his hand away. “Eat your cupcake,” he nearly snarled.

“She could make more, m’sure.”

Niall shook his head stuffing his face of the treat made specially for him.

Harry liked watching her. He wondered if it was the same way she felt when she watched him. People obviously fell in love with her the moment they spoke to her. Unironically, she was so sweet. Of course she was. It was like she was a sprinkles-fairy. This ethereal being that passed out sweet treats to everyone.

Ding.

With her back turned to get another bag, she didn’t notice the influx of new customers. When she turned back, her heart leapt to her throat. She was lucky she didn’t drop the dozen cookies she was packaging.

“Shit,” she whispered mostly to herself. He hadn’t seen her yet. Fortunately, it was crowded enough to hide behind her wall of customers. All the progress she had made, the classes thus far, all seemed for naught at that moment. Her gaze darted to Harry and Niall. They were unaware of the turmoil she was facing while she packaged treats for the next customer. Her stomach churned uneasily.

If Harry just looked at her, she knew he would know. “Hey Lexi!” She called toward the back room. But Harry was chatting with Niall. Niall was focused on his soda bread. Neither of them noticed the anxiety that swept over her. Lexi doesn’t answer at first. Making her more anxious and scared. It shouldn’t be that way. He shouldn’t ruin the one place she loved most.

Niall now had crumbs on his cheeks, but his head tilted curiously in the direction of her main display. “Harry, something’s wrong,” Niall’s voice was quiet.

Harry’s gaze snapped up defensively. Sure enough, her whole demeanor had changed. Harry could see it. Her smile was tight, and her eyes darted toward the door and the customer in front of her more times in ten seconds than Harry could ever begin to count. Harry wanted to kick himself. How long had she looked like that?

After an eternity, Lexi finally appeared. She mumbled something to her employee and headed to the back kitchen. Not even a glance in Harry’s direction. Without fanfare, without permission, Harry marched his way into the back almost as soon as she left his view.

“Excuse me,” Lexi said. “Hey, that’s employee—”

“He’s fine, Lexi,” she answered quietly.

Harry found her in the kitchen, hand clutching the front collar of her shirt, her eyes lit with anxiety while she paced back and forth. “Is he here?” He asked lowly, while she moved quickly across the kitchen.

She tried to remember the last time she felt safe. It was her dad, right? Her dad before...before everything. Before she moved her shop here. Before she uprooted her life.

But there were those brief moments where she was overcome with how safe she felt in Harry’s presence. Walking to his fight for the first time. Each time he walked her to her car. How his hand felt when he pressed her fingers into a fist.

She nodded, her eyes watering.

He spun almost immediately to do who knows what. He didn’t know and she certainly didn’t know.

“No, don’t leave me!” She practically shouted before he could hardly take a step further. She started to follow him but he stopped at the sound of despair in her voice.

Harry groaned lowly; it came out nearly as a growl. He turned back to her immediately as if it pained him. “M’never leaving you,” his eyes were so dark and desperate—her whole body felt heavy at the seriousness of his words. Breathless again. “Please don’t ask me that,” his eyes darted back toward the front of the bakery.

“Harry, please,” she whispered.

His hands were already balled into fists. He shook his head. “Cupcake,” he grumbled. It was such an oxymoron in itself. Harry was calling her one of the sweetest things in the world and it sounded downright terrifying.

“Please, Harry,” she begged, grabbing one of his closed fists. “I need you,” she whispered.

Groaning again, he rubbed a hand over his face and sighed. “Fine,” he snapped.

She felt bad making him stay. She knew she was forcing his hand, but she was scared. To soften the blow, she threw herself at him. Arms around his neck, face buried in his shirt. She sighed with relief with the feel of him: solid, warm, protective against her body. Harry was safe. He proved that already and she still hardly knew him. It wasn’t hard. It shouldn’t have been hard for her date to make her feel safe.

Harry was momentarily shocked before he returned the hug, one arm looped around her back, the other cupping the back of her head. It was like the antidote to an disease she didn’t know she had. Another loud sigh escaped her. Like the feeling of Harry was cause for another wave of relief.

“What did he do?” He mumbled into her hair. She ignored him and scrunched her eyes shut. “Please, Cupcake,” he begged. She realized she wanted to tell Harry.

“I’m so embarrassed,” she whispered. “I don’t even know why I went out with him...I had met you and—”

“Doesn’t matter, kitten,” he shook his head. “He doesn’t get t’make y’feel unsafe,” he reminded her.

“It was such bad judgment.”

He shook his head again. “No, Cupcake. He doesn’t get t’make y’feel that way. S’not you. S’not asking a lot t’feel safe on a date. S’not even the bare minimum. Y’don’t have poor judgment. Your judgment got y’out of there that night. S’why y’signed up for classes and—”

It poured out of her at that moment. She told him everything. In the middle of the story, she tried to downplay it sensing the way his body tightened around her with every word. Explained why she signed up for the self-defense class. Every detail and emotion she felt for the last few weeks. How scared she was that very night. Why she requested Harry and chatted with him until three in the morning. How he made her feel better when she didn’t think she could. How safe she felt around him in general.

At the end, Harry pulled away from her.

Her heart felt heavy. Now he wouldn’t like her. She was broken and hurt. Harry didn’t want to be a bodyguard, nor should he have to be. “I need t’go to the gym,” he started toward the front, and she thought that was it. It was the last she would see of him. He was too overwhelmed with how stupid she was. This wasn’t what he wanted. Someone who couldn’t defend herself or be smart enough to see the signs earlier.

“Harry, I’m sorry—” She managed to croak with tears thick in her voice and vision. Right as he reached the threshold back to the front of the bakery. He was shaking. Every inch of him. She wondered how he wasn’t a blur from how much he shook. In the moment it took for the apology to form in her mouth, he was back in front of her.

He grabbed her firmly but still softly by the chin, held her sweet face between his palms. Gazed into her eyes and shook his head slowly. His eye contact was overwhelming but still felt so good. “You are to never. Ever. Apologize.” Her eyes welled with more tears. She couldn’t do anything but nod at him. Her heart felt so heavy and broken. But Harry was looking at her. Taking in every inch of her face and he sighed. “M’sorry, Cupcake; m'angry. But s'not something you need t'apologize for. Y'didn't do anything wrong. M'jus' mad I wasn't there for you,” he whispered and brought her back in to hold her against him once more. Her body felt relieved it was ridiculous for him to feel bad--he didn't even know she was going on a date. She didn't want him to feel bad.

"It's not your fault either," she whispered. Harry sighed with relief and he kissed the top of her hair.

She lost track of how long they stood there. It could have been two minutes or two hours. All she felt was Harry’s warm body against hers and reveled in how good it felt. “Call me a half hour before you’re ready to leave here. I’ll come walk you t’your car.”

She smiled softly, hoping to alleviate the tension now that a significant portion of time had passed. “Even if it’s in the middle of the night and—”

He didn’t think her joke was funny at all. “If y’call,” he repeated, interrupting her, his eyes were hard and serious. No room for joking at all. “I’ll be here.”

He was rapidly making her fall in love with him.

“Hey Dad,” she smiled softly sitting across from him at the dinner table. He grinned at her.

“Hey sweetie. How was your day?”

“Good! Did you see the game?” She asked. He nodded.

“Your guy did well, don’t you think?”

She laughed, shaking her head and blushed a bit. “Max Kepler is not my guy, Dad.”

“I didn’t say his name, honey,” he reminded her with a chuckle.

She rolled her eyes and bit the inside of her cheek. “I think I met a guy, actually,” she rushed out quickly.

“Oh?” He looked at her curiously, tilted his head ever so slightly and smiled. “That’s nice, sweetie. You haven’t had a boyfriend in a while. You need someone to...chat with, depend on,” he said knowingly. “I want to know you’re taken care of.”

“Dad, that is so 1950s of you. I don’t need a guy to take care of me.”

“Oh honey, I know you don’t. But I want you to have someone,” his voice was gentle.

For a moment she just looked at him. Thought long about all the things that had happened since she met Harry almost three months prior. It was a big deal to tell her dad about Harry. She wanted to make sure it was the right move especially after she was feeling poorly about her gut feeling. But she thought of Harry, the reassurance he gave her that it wasn’t her poor judgment that caused her bad date.

“His name is Harry. He’s a boxer,” she shrugged. “The raspberry filled cupcakes are his favorite.”

“Well, then he’s perfect. Right?”

She laughed, nodded, then bit her lip. “I mean...he’s...” she sighed forgoing all the details about how she was insane to let him steer her to his boxing match. How he helped her with self-defense classes. And why she was taking self-defense classes. No. She would tell him how they met another day. When Harry and she defined more of what their relationship was... if there was a relationship to be had. “I like him,” she admitted. “Then that’s all that really matters, honey,” he assured her. It felt like a blessing.

She couldn't wait to see Harry.

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bluecollarmcandtf · 1 day

Text

"Dude, I took over your dad's body.."

"...and goddamn is there a lot of him to work with! I've been a ghost for years now, but I've never been inside a 6' 3" ex-linebacker! I've been checking him out all afternoon, and let me tell you that this man is big and hairy all over," he punctuates his comment with a wink.

Your dad, the man you've looked up to your entire life, is saying things you don't want to think about while casually laying on the couch in nothing but a robe and booty shorts. The urge to puke is suppressed, but you know that Jimmy has crossed a line here. Your deceased friend has possessed bullies, professors, and more, but he's never had the balls to take over your own family. What was he thinking?

"I jumped into him while he was at work. I think his coworkers probably found it strange when I picked up his briefcase and waddled his ass out the door," Jimmy chuckles at the memory, "But don't worry. Your old man had plenty of sick days he wasn't gonna use."

It doesn't take long for you to burst out in anger at the spirit controlling your father. Your face is hot, and you can't stand to watch your dad get puppetted around like a fool!

"Calm the fuck down!" he swears uncharacteristically, "Give this big guy a hug. Come here. Daddy needs some love..."

The thought of hugging your father while he's being forced to act like this feels wrong, but you relent. A part of you is glad for the embrace. It might not actually be your dad, but paternal comfort is exactly what you need right now, and your real dad isn't the type to give his child a hug.

"That's it, son," Jimmy pets your head with your father's thick hands, "Let daddy take care of you. Let your dumb old fart-of-a-father give you some much-needed attention."

You can't help but chuckle at the self-deprecating joke. Your real dad was too proud to laugh at himself, and he'd never made an effort to be anything other than distant and formal with you. In fact, there was a lot your real dad would never do; he'd never leave the office in the middle of the day, he'd never lay around the house like a lazy bum, and he'd certainly never let his hairy chest and thick legs be on full display in front of his disappointing gay son.

Suddenly, while still embraced, you realize there's something poking into your waist.

"Sorry, dude," your father whispers in your ear, "I guess your dad is just happy to see you."

You push him away, insisting that Jimmy needs to stay out of family members' bodies because this just feels so wrong! You search the pair of unnaturally blank eyes for any sign that Jimmy might be listening to you.

"You need to relax, bro," your dad (Jimmy) groans in annoyance. He looks disappointed, but then he sparks up and gives you a new look of excitement. "Son," he says with exaggerated machismo, "Take a page from my book and learn to chill out. It doesn't matter what the world thinks about you or me. I'll prove it to you..."

With a placid grin and blank gaze, your father lumbers past and marches straight out the front door of the house. You're almost too stunned to follow. Was Jimmy really going to parade your dad's body around the neighborhood in nothing but his robe?

"Afternoon, neighbor," your father's rumbling tone bellows across the street, "Lovely weather, today. My son thought I should take my fat hairy gut for a little stroll in the sun. You know us dads have got to keep our boys happy. Am I right?"

Mr. Jones stares at your father from his porch, just as shocked as you are. He often drank beers with this man and every other neighborhood dad at backyard barbecues and living room game watches. This was not how he normally interacted with the man, and it obviously struck him as weird.

"You alright, Bob?" he asks hesitantly.

"Right as rain, neighbor!" Jimmy answers with a tone that's too goofy to pass as my dad's, "If that's how you're staring at me now, I wonder what'll happen if I take this robe off..."

Before Mr. Jones can process the flirtation in your father's voice, you shuffle your dad further down the street and away from the whole interaction. That may have been hilarious, but Jimmy was going to destroy any reputation and respect your father had around here!

You demand to know where Jimmy is going with this body. It's not like you have any ability to even slow the ghost down when he's got the weight and strength of your 200 lb father.

"I'm thinking the park. Your dad could use some cardio," he smirks, an unfamiliar expression on the grown man's face, "Or maybe the public bathroom on the north end. You know, it has that hole in the stall..."

No amount of reasoning or arguments can change Jimmy's mind. Apparently he's set on wearing your father to the city's most notorious gay hookup spot.

"Don't look at me like that," his gravelly voice sounds amused by your frustration, "With me in charge, your dad will be the dirtiest slut that bathroom's ever seen. Don't you think it'll be funny to see such a massive, manly bear serving man after man in there?"

You sigh in disbelief.

"Or...maybe I don't have to rent out your dad's body to a bunch of strangers..."

You wonder where he's going with this. It sounds like an ultimatum is coming, and you don't like the idea of your crazy dead friend giving you an ultimatum.

"...your dad could hold off on bottoming for strangers...if...you let him be your submissive little bitch."

The choice is an annoying one, but you're pretty sure you can't let your dad have unprotected sex with strangers in a public place. This is what he'd want right?

"That's what I thought," the grin on your father's face twists maniacally. He tussles your hair like he's the proudest dad in the world, "Let's head on back home, buddy. Daddy's gonna lick every inch of sweat off that body of yours. He's got years of emotional absence to make up for."

One of his beefy arms cradles your back and turns you around. You're relieved to no longer be headed towards the public bathroom, but you're still a little nervous about what awaits you at home. How does Jimmy expect you to enjoy any of this when it's your dad doing all these things to you?

"Daddy's gonna treat you to a night that's all about you," he goes on, "Cooking you dinner, rubbing your feet, cuddling on the couch, and so much more. I want you to think of some humiliating things daddy can do for you while we walk back. Make sure they're extra degrading or your dad will just have to step out of the house and degrade himself where the entire city can see..."

The last comment gives you butterflies in your stomach, but it also gives you a bit of a hard-on. Maybe Jimmy playing with your dad wasn't so scary of an idea after all. With him possessed, anything was on the table: personal affirmations, some much needed bonding, roleplay, revenge, humiliation. Heck, you could even give your father a golden shower and Jimmy would have him smiling through it!

Walking home, you steal glances at your dad, towering over you as his rotund gut leads the way. Home can't come fast enough!

#gay dad and son #male possession #gay dad bod #male mind control #body swap #gay fatty

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dollfacefantasy · 1 day

Text

From the Day You Arrived

pairing: suguru geto x fem!reader

summary: the night in the village was the first time suguru saw you. you'd haunted him ever since. when he meets you again, he's not going to let you slip away. you will be his.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, dub-con, p in v, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, spanking, manipulation, pet names (pet, puppy, pup), reader put in a collar, yandere-ish behavior (obsession/controlling), breeding kink

word count: 5.4k

a/n: birthday present for @kaitkatme. one of the sweetest people in the whole world, someone i love so so much. she makes me happy every day. i'm so lucky to call her my friend <3

It was that night in the village. With the 112 people. With the fire. That was the night he first saw you.

You’d been caught amongst the carnage of that night. You should have been just another face in the slaughter, another light he’d snuff out. But when he came across you in the midst of everything, he froze. Two sets of eyes gazing into one another, completely still as everything surrounding continued in disarray.

He couldn’t pinpoint exactly why. He didn’t know if it was the terror in your stare, the horror in the downward curve of your lips. You made him freeze though. Long enough for you to dart out the back door and run as fast as your limbs could carry you.

The smallest moment in time. One he thought would be the only minute shared between the two of you.

That was until he saw you all those years later.

You’d changed but so had he. Both of you sported new styles of clothing, different hairdos, your faces had aged. When your eyes locked in the middle of that busy street though, it was like the two of you morphed into yourselves from all those years ago and nothing had changed. He couldn’t explain the connection. All he knew was that he wouldn’t let it slip away this time.

He went over to you, introduced himself, and this time, it was you who froze. Instantly, it was obvious you recognized him. He thought seeing the man who massacred everyone you’d known would’ve sent you running, just like you had on that night. But you didn’t move a muscle. As if your legs were locked in place, you didn’t move an inch upon hearing his voice. You ended up responding, and finally, he learned the name of the girl who’d walked through both his dreams and nightmares for years on end. In that moment, he wondered if he’d meant the same to you.

He took your hand and pressed a soft kiss to your knuckles. The gesture caught you off guard. He reveled in the slight widening of your eyes. It was obvious you didn’t think him capable of such tenderness. He knew with little effort, you’d be his.

You were still a non-sorcerer, but that was part of what had him captivated. He couldn’t understand how he managed to become so enamored with someone he considered to be objectively beneath him. It was something that haunted him, something he had to find out the cause of. All he knew was that you weren’t going to get away this time.

He lured you back to his place with promises of an explanation, answering the questions that had plagued you all this time. Only when you got there, it was you doing the majority of the talking. He discovered that in contrast to himself, your life had fallen apart after that night. It spiraled so far out of control, you had no hope left for wrangling it back. He supposed it made sense. Losing your entire family and all of your friends would do that to a person. He listened with a sympathetic ear, fingers sweeping down your jaw soothingly as his eyes grew soft with feigned concern.

“Oh, little one,” he cooed, “How could I ever begin to make it up to you?”

As if he had anything to make up for. If anything, this arrangement he had in mind would be you making it up to him for making him question so much. An apology for bothering him with your mere existence.

You were resistant at first. You’d seen first hand the kind of violence this man was capable of. You turned down his offers, made up excuses about why you should be leaving now. He wouldn’t have it though.

“I don’t think you understand,” he’d told you, rising to his feet, “You’re special. You were meant for more than what’s been given to you, more than what you had in that village and more than what you have now.”

You watched him with widening eyes, uncertain of his point. You knew you should’ve been reacting with more intensity, kicking, screaming, hitting, crying, anything. But it was as if something possessed you to stay. To listen.

“There’s a reason you made it out of that night when no one else did. Something stopped me when I saw you. And something brought us back together. I’m not even sure what it is myself, but that’s why you’re going to stay here,” he said, “I’m not letting you slip away again.”

It wasn’t a request. It was a statement of fact. You still shook your head in protest, but he nodded right back at you.

“Tell me honestly, what do you have to go back to?” he asked, “You feel it too. I know you do. You think you’re supposed to hate me, right? But you don’t.”

“You took everything from me,” you protested weakly.

He chuckled at first but kept his eyes serious and locked on you. “Sure I did. But that was a long time ago and not the point. The point is that you’re sitting here like a good girl and listening because deep down, you also want to know what this thing is that connects us. You don’t want to leave. You could’ve tried running by now. You wouldn’t get far, but you could have tried. You haven’t though because you want this just the same as I do.”

“No I don’t,” you said, your tone still not matching the firm nature of your words.

“That’s just too bad because you’re staying here regardless,” he’d told you with a shrug, “Like I said, you can try to run, but I’ll have you back here in the blink of an eye.”

You contemplated trying to get away at first, but as your eyes scanned the room, many factors became clear to you that would be detrimental to your escape. First, you didn't know this place well. Second, you clearly weren’t alone. You could hear other people just outside the room, and you were sure they’d follow Suguru’s word over yours without even a second thought. Also, you could still vividly remember how he treated your people from the village, and you didn’t want to invite a recreation.

Reluctantly, you accept staying with him, and as a reward, he didn’t make you wear restraints.

***

Your new life actually wasn't horrible. The other people who hung around Suguru’s place weren’t all that bad and could be nice to you sometimes. He kept a close eye on you to make sure you didn’t sneak off or get too close to anyone else, but from what he could tell you didn’t. You spent most of your time around him although he did allow you your own room to sleep in.

Unexpected to you, however, was that you actually didn’t mind spending time with him too much. It wasn’t like he was your best friend, but you didn’t despair being around him. You were pretty quiet for the most part, but he worked to figure you out anyways.

In a way, you compartmentalized him into two. After nearly a year with him, there were two Sugurus in your mind. There was the version of him from years ago who’d destroyed everything you’d ever known, and there was the current version that petted your head and spoke to you as if you were the most exquisite flower just beginning to bloom.

You knew you should hate him. The man ruined your life, and you followed him around and slept under his roof. This was disgraceful, wasn’t it? The lack of fight you put up was embarrassing.

Thoughts like those bothered you daily. The second you’d find yourself smiling at him or engaging him in a conversation on your own freewill, shame took you over. Those feelings led to your first and only attempt at escape.

You tried it when you thought he was busy. Slipping out through the backdoor, you ran away just like you had when you first met. You didn’t know where you were going, but this was what you were supposed to do. This is what anyone would expect of someone in your situation.

But he held true to his promise. You were back within the hour.

You weren’t sure how he knew, if he sensed it, if someone saw you and told him, if you’d tripped some sort of alarm. He followed you though and retrieved you with no effort.

You returned to the place you’d been staying for the last several months. You didn’t even know what to call it. His compound? Sometimes it felt more like his palace. Whatever it was, you were back, and he was pissed. Angrier than you’d ever seen him. That night in the village, he didn’t look angry. He went about his slaughter as if it was just something he had to do. But right now, sitting in the bedroom he’d given you, he looked at you with fire in his eyes.

“What do you think you were doing?” he asks, his voice ice cold.

You look up at him like a puppy who’d been caught breaking a rule. “I wanted to leave. You never told me I could never leave…” you argue.

“Then why did you sneak out the back?” he asks. Upon receiving no response from you, he continues, “Because you knew you weren’t supposed to.”

“I’m not supposed to be here!” you say with the most force he’d heard from you, “We’re not connected or whatever. You took away my whole life. I can’t just forget that.”

He glares at you. “Come here,” he says simply.

The words chill you to your bones. You walk over to him and stand between his thighs. He grabs your chin and makes you look at him. “I never asked you to forget what happened, did I? No. I didn’t. I’ve never said I’m sorry because I’m not. What I did brought you to me.”

He pulls you face down over his lap and continues with his speech. “You are supposed to be here. I am supposed to have you whether you understand that or not. Your place is here. You belong to me,” he says.

With that, he brings his palm down hard against your ass. You yelp with surprise. It was almost comical, your punishment being a simple spanking from a man capable of mass murder.

“Hush. I don’t want to hear it. I’m growing tired of your resistant act because that’s all it is. An act,” he says, pushing up your skirt and raining down lashes on your uncovered cheeks.

“It’s not. I hate you for what you did,” you whimper.

“No. You hate what I did, but you don’t hate me,” he says.

You don’t respond to that one. It was probably the truth, but you wouldn’t admit that so easily. You continue whining as he spanks you, painting your ass with bruises.

“I mean, how could you? I’m the only one who’s ever shown you real attention, real care,” he says, “You’ve never been anyone’s favorite, anyone’s choice. But you’re mine. You think just anyone would go to such lengths to keep you?”

The words sting worse than the slaps. Tears begin to brim your eyes as barbs form in your throat. “That’s not true,” you say, “Everyone who cared about me is dead because of you.”

“It is the truth. Sure, those people may have cared about you but not like I do. You’re part of my very being, a piece of my existence, and I treat you as such. Your life is so much better here than it ever was, yet you repay me by trying to leave?” he lectures.

You don’t respond again. It was hard to think of an argument as your emotions swell within you and your ass burns. More small whimpers escape you, and you squirm on his lap. He smacks you harder in response and gets a tight grip on your hips.

“And nothing to say for yourself?” he taunts, “I’ve been treating you like the little angel I believed you to be, but now I see I need to handle you as you actually are. An ungrateful brat.”

As a mark of punctuation, he lands the hardest smack yet. You cry out, tears beginning to fall down your cheeks. “I’m sorry,” you sniffle weakly.

“No you’re not. You’re sorry you were caught. You’re sorry you’re in trouble. But you aren’t sorry for what you did,” he chides. He spanks you a few more times before stopping.

He wipes the tears from your cheeks and lifts you off his lap, putting you down on your bed. He stands from the bed and heads towards the door.

“Compose yourself before dinner. I don’t want to hear anymore of your whining for the rest of the day,” he says, “And get used to this room. You’re going to be seeing a lot more of it for the next few weeks.”

Then he left.

You didn’t see him until dinner like he said, and even then he was cold and distant. He wasn’t the version of himself that you enjoyed being around. The two of you eat in silence before he dismisses you to your bedroom without so much as saying goodnight. And things continued on like that for weeks.

He knew how to play you like the delicate instrument you were. He knew he wouldn’t need to spank you again, wouldn’t have to chain you up or starve you. All he’d have to do in order to get you on his side was take away his affection. He wouldn’t be nice to you anymore. That simple.

He wouldn’t stroke your cheek or call you sweet names, wouldn’t joke with you at dinner or come to your room to say good night specially to you. You’d be treated like everyone else, and he knew you wouldn’t stand for it.

Being in your room all day for weeks was bad enough, but that part was worse. It sounds simple, like something that should be easy to resist. It drove you crazy though. You hadn’t realized how much his treatment had meant to you. You’d craved being treasured for so long, and he’d given you a taste of it.

You crack one night at the end of your punishment. For the first time in weeks, you could roam the grounds freely. But with him practically ignoring you, it didn’t feel like a reprieve. At the end of the day, you go to his room and knock on the door. Already teary eyed, you walk inside when he permits you. Standing in front of him, you look up. Your lip quivers as the words “I’m sorry” spill out.

He can’t suppress his knowing smile.

“For what?” he asks, playing clueless.

“For trying to run away. And for arguing. And for whatever else you're mad at me for,” you say.

“That doesn’t sound very sincere,” he teases, “Sounds like you’re throwing darts at a board, just trying to hit the right spot.”

“No, I’m serious. I am sorry. I just really don’t want you to be mad. Please. I don’t want you to hate me anymore. I want us to be connected again,” you say.

And that was all he needed to hear.

“Well come here then,” he says and pats his lap.

You do so without any hesitation, curling up to him as if you’d done it hundreds of times before.

“My sweet puppy wants to be good again, hm?” he asks softly as he rubs your back.

“Yes,” you whimper. You wrap your arms around him as if trying to meld the two of you together.

He already knew what your answer would be. His precious little pet. Over the course of your time with him, that’s what he’d decided. You weren’t just something elusive that captivated him for a moment. You were the pinnacle of your kind, the closest to divine a non-sorcerer would ever come to be. You were born to be his. Put on this earth as a sweet thing for him to dote on while he continued with his mission.

“Good girl,” he says. He gently kisses the top of your head. “How about tonight you sleep in my bed? Would that make you feel better?”

Surprising even yourself, you nod. The desire to be back in his good graces, basking in his affection again, dominated your thought process. He scoots back on the mattress and pulls you with him, tucking you against his side under the plush blankets.

“You just need some attention. Little puppies like you can’t handle being ignored for too long,” he murmurs.

You nod in agreement, getting comfortable. That was the fastest you’d fallen asleep in years.

For the next month, you truly fell into the role of his pet. You followed him everywhere, holding his hand and watching him with adoring eyes. But the moment he made it official came one night after dinner. You sat across the table from him as usual, eating quietly and occasionally nodding along to whatever he happened to be going on about. That night took a different turn though. When the two of you were done and the table was clear, he looked at you for a moment and then patted his lap.

“Sit with me, my pet,” he said.

My pet. A title you detested at first. In the beginning, it made you feel awful. Though now, it felt sweet in its own way. The term was one no one else got to wear.

You rose to your feet and rounded the table, approaching him to sit on one of his thighs. You look into his eyes curiously.

“What is it, Suguru?” you ask, your voice soft and sweet as it had come to be in his presence.

“How was dinner, sweetheart?” he asks. One hand rubs up and down your back while his other fidgets with the ends of your hair.

“It was good,” you answer.

“That’s good,” he says, watching your every expression, “Tell me, precious, are you happy here?”

You nod. “I’m happy with you,” he says.

“Well, that’s good because I need to talk to you about something,” he says. He reaches for a pouch he had resting on the table. He undoes the tie at the top as he continues to speak, “You know, as of today, you’ve been here for one year. A full year.”

“Really?” you ask, watching his fingers on the strings.

“Yes, and I wanted to offer you something to commemorate such a special date,” he says.

The pouch finally opens and out of it comes a collar made of black leather with the word Suguru’s spelled across the front in silver letters. He allows you to take it from his hands and inspect it, running your fingers over the materials.

“Thank you, Suguru,” you say. The words come out slowly as you adjust to the idea of having this strapped around your neck.

He grins as you don’t even bother to question it. “You’re welcome. You want to try it on?” he asks.

“Sure,” you say timidly and hand the strip of leather back to him.

“Good girl,” he purrs. His fingers bring the collar to your neck and wrap it around. He fastens it into place, not too tight to restrict you but not loose enough that you would forget its presence.

Turning your head to look at him, he takes in your appearance. His eyes scan your face before looking at your delicate neck with his name displayed across the front.

“You’re beautiful, little love. I don’t think you’ve ever looked better,” he praises and kisses your cheek, “My perfect puppy.”

A smile spreads across your lips, and helplessly, you sink into his affection. He continues to pet your head and run his fingers along your face with the most gentle touches.

“You look just as a proper pet should, collared and devoted completely to your owner,” he coos before kissing your nose.

“I like the collar. It feels good,” you say softly.

“That’s how you should feel. A collar is the most natural thing in the world for a precious pet like you. Someone meant to be pampered and doted on,” he murmurs and moves his kisses to your cheekbones and down your jaw.

Eventually, he reaches your lips. He looks at you before connecting the two of you in your first real kiss. You reciprocate the affection and lean into his touch. He goes in for a few more, his tongue flicking at your lips and sliding in to transition into full blown make out.

Both of your breathing deepens and becomes heavier puffs against each other’s face. After a little more, he pulls back and studies your face, your cute lips wet with his saliva.

“You like that, pup? Was that a good treat?” he teases before leaning down to the part of your neck not covered by the collar.

A breathy moan escapes you as you nod to his questions. He licks your skin before reattaching his lips and nipping at your throat. He places more kisses in the area while his hands massage your waist and move up to your breasts.

“I need to talk to you about something else, little love. Something else that good puppies do,” he says against your skin.

“Ok…” you agree, head tilted back to give him more room.

“I think you & I…” he starts before changing his wording, the only time you’d ever heard him stumble, “I think I need to breed you.”

Your eyes widen and dart over to what you can see of his face. “What?”

“I want to breed you,” he repeats, “My perfect little puppy, full with our perfect baby.”

The words rattle around in your head, but you’re still uncertain. “But Suguru… I don’t know,” you say.

With one more kiss to your throat, he picks you up and seats you on the table in front of him. “What’s causing your uncertainty?” he asks, his hands running up and down your thighs.

“Because… that’s a big deal, and I don’t even know if I want a baby. And we’re not even a real couple,” you reason, your skepticism showing in your voice.

He smirks at your words and nods dismissively. “Little one, we’re beyond being a “real couple.” We’re connected deeper than that, and you know this,” he tells you, “And because of that, imagine how perfect our child would be. A product of otherworldly connection. The baby would make us the family you’ve been missing for so long.”

Thinking his words over, you remain silent. A family? A physical manifestation of the connection between the two of you. It sounded good.

Of course, Suguru knew it would. He rarely enjoyed forcing you to do things. He took pleasure from convincing you of them, manipulating you into thinking as he did. Before you could come to any conclusion that resulted in “no,” he interjects.

“What if we practice? Just try it out,” he offers.

“Practice?” you repeat hesitantly.

“I’ll show you how good being bred feels. How you were just made for it,” he says and pulls your hips closer to the edge of the table. “Lay back for me.”

As per usual, you follow instructions. You lay back against the wood and look up at the bright lights on the ceiling. Suguru’s focus is all on you. He pushes your skirt out of the way and drags his thumb over your panties.

“I’ll warm you up first, little love. Just relax for me,” he says.

You squirm from the budding pleasure in the pit of your stomach. His touch was light enough to not give anything real, but it was still there. He leans in next, dragging his nose in place of his thumb. A kiss lands on your clit through the cloth before removing it entirely. The garment slides down your legs and hits the floor. He spreads you open for his viewing.

“Every part of you is beautiful,” he murmurs.

You squirm a little more as he just admires you. He just stares, taking in every precious detail of you. After what feels like forever, he leans in and licks an exploratory stripe up the length of your cunt. You breathe in a shuddery breath as he laps at your clit and swirls his tongue over your folds.

It’s just a taste though. He uses all his discipline to pull back and slide his fingers inside of you.

“Suguru…” you whine, back arching off the table.

“Such a needy little puppy,” he croons, “You’ve been aching for this and you didn’t even know it. That’s why you have me to show you.”

He pushes them deeper, curling them against your pleasure spots and making you whimper again. A smirk is plastered on his face now as he begins to pump them.

“Good baby,” he coos, “And this is just the warm up.”

Your slick gathers on Suguru’s fingers as he continues his efforts. His free hand holds your hip in place to ensure your squirming doesn’t interrupt him.

“You’re so tight, sweetheart. So eager for me,” he whispers with a kiss to your inner thigh.

Your walls clamp around his digits and draw him further into your heat. He picks up the pace a bit, figuring out what works on you as he goes on.

“It feels so good,” you whimper, clutching the edges of the table.

“I know it does, pup. Better than anything you’ve had before, yeah?” he says.

You nod and moan again as he adds another finger. The stretch wasn’t painful at this point. It just felt like pure satisfaction.

“You’re taking it so well. I can already tell you’re gonna be perfect for my cock,” he says.

He thumbs your clit while working his three fingers back and forth. After a while, the intimate touches become enough to get you to peak. You’re gasping, tensed up on the table before him.

“S-Suguru… can I?” you ask. You knew better than to just do whatever you wanted. He was being kind to you, but this was still his show.

“Can you what, puppy? I have got you dumb enough that you can’t use your words,” he teases.

“Can I- mm- Can I cum?” you stutter out.

“Alright, darling. I think you deserve it this time. Just know it won’t always be so easy,” he says, continuing his motions at the same pace.

You burst before his eyes, seizing up, hands so tight on the table you feel like you could snap it. You cry out loudly, not caring if anyone else were to walk by.

“Thank you, Suguru,” you babble before you’re even in the clear yet.

“What a good girl. You didn’t even need to be told,” he says.

He lets you come down as he stands up and disrobes. You’re still in the fog of euphoria, so you don’t notice how he stands between your legs until you feel his flushed tip nudging at your folds.

Your eyes cast downwards and lock onto his form. He was more bare than you’d ever seen, presented to you in all his glory. He continues to tease your hole, prodding at it with his tip before sliding it up to your clit.

“Suguru…” you whine, “Please.”

He laughs at the pout you attempt before bringing his cock down again and pushing in just the tip. You bite your lip, muffling your noises now that you had a clearer head. That wasn’t what he wanted though. He slips himself all the way inside, getting a needy moan from you once he’s bottomed out.

“Good girl. Don’t try to hide your enjoyment from me,” he says.

“But-” you start before cutting yourself off with a whine. You couldn’t help it when you felt the sensation of him thrusting. “But what if someone comes in?”

“Let them,” he says, digging his fingers into the flesh of your hips, “Let them see how good you are for me, the perfect pet. They won’t do a thing. Everyone here knows better than to question me. And that includes you. So no more questions.”

Heat still creeps up your neck at the thought of someone seeing you in such a vulnerable position, but while your mind swirls with the feeling of him inside you, it’s not enough for you to protest. Your shoulder blades pin against the table that creaks beneath you from his movements. He works to find a rhythm, pleased by your obedience.

His grip on your hips is just as tight as when his fingers were in you, and true to his word, you took his cock perfectly. You squeezed around him just right, so tight and warm. He’d never felt anything so heavenly.

He starts moving faster, pistoning himself deeper, and ripping more blissful noises from you. Your eyes were starting to droop with lust and get glossy with ecstasy. One of his hands reaches up to grab your chin and direct your vision to his.

“You like this, puppy? Feels as good as before?” he grunts.

“Yeah. Better,” you gasp. Your responses are curt as your mind would rather get lost in his touch than formulate words.

“Good. You’re gonna wanna do this more, yeah? Cause we can do it as often as we need. When you wake up, during the day when you get bored, when you need me to put you to sleep at night,” he lists out, “All the time until it takes, and you’re growing my baby.”

You whine and nod eagerly. When you we’re getting fucked dumb, that actually didn’t sound like such a bad idea.

He grins at your agreement. He knew he’d still have to convince you further when you weren’t high on pleasure, but this was definitive progress.

“I knew you’d come around, little love. You know it’s meant to be,” he says before leaning over you, pressing his forehead to yours and burying himself as deep as physically possible. “And I know you’re just gonna be the prettiest little mama.”

Another moan spills out of you against Suguru’s lips as he kisses you. His hips keep rutting into yours, locked in on making his words reality. You both pant when you separate. The heat forming between the two of you was sweltering enough to make you sweat.

“Want it, Suguru. I want it now,” you whimper.

That only spurs him closer towards the finish line as you accept it even more than he had anticipated.

“Do you, pup? Or do you just wanna cum?” he teases. His own voice was straining a bit as he got closer.

“Want both,” you defend between moans.

“Good. Cause you’re gonna get both. Cum for me puppy, want you to cum all over my cock,” he mutters and thrusts harder.

You gasp at the sharp movements and dig your nails into his back. Cut off words fall from your lips, and your legs tremble violently. It’s not long before you cum again, jerking and bucking your hips, whining for him and crying out whatever came into your mind.

“That’s my puppy. My perfect girl. Made for me and me alone,” he breathes, shutting his eyes as the feeling of you clamped around him takes over.

His own breathing becomes ragged as he feels the heat inside him reaching a boiling point. He groans, creating the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard as he fucks his cum into you. His hips keep thrusting and don’t break their rhythm at all. He was going to do this right. His mind was fueled by pure determination.

When you both have come down, he’s still on top of you, not wanting to lose contact with your body. He reluctantly pulls out and looks down at you in you’re fucked out state. His sweetest pet. Scooping you up, he carries you to the bedroom to clean you off and get the two of you to bed. He sleeps with you tucked to his chest, his arms wrapped around you like a vise. He dreams of you on his lap, his hand on your swollen belly, and your eyes looking up at him with unending adoration.

#suguru geto x reader #suguru geto x you #suguru geto x y/n #suguru geto imagines #jjk imagines #jjk x reader #jjk smut #geto suguru smut #geto x reader #geto smut

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clavissionary-position · 2 days

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(Translation) Gilbert's Beast Manual Case 3: The Correct Way to Love Gilbert

Part 3 of Gilbert's current party event, wherein Emma learns something new about Gilbert.

Spoilers. Yeah this one's just a straight-up translation. Also I read using a translator so expect le errors. Case 1 | Case 2 | His POV

Gilbert was a fiendishly jealous man—something both he and others attested to.

Not only the men I spoke to, but women and animals as well; they all become the target of his jealousy. The same jealousy across the board.

But lately that hasn't been all.

Gilbert: This tie keeping your hair up, it gets to be with you 24/7, doesn't it?

Gilbert: ...You're so mean for setting me aside. Actually, wouldn't it be better to just wear your hair down?

Gilbert: Your chair here, doesn't it basically get to feel your warmth the entire time you're on it?

Gilbert: I'm going to hold you on my lap because it's kind of pissing me off. Sharing your body heat with a chair is more than it deserves.

Gilbert: This hallway you tread on every day—

Emma: Okay, can you please not be jealous of the literal hallway!?

The more time we spent together, the more the potential targets for his jealousy went up.

I didn't get how he could be so jealous of every little thing.

Because even though I loved Gilbert, jealousy was something I didn't really feel much of.

(Oh...)

Gilbert: —I see. So they've already completed their draft. Excellent, excellent.

Roderic: It seems experiencing your wrath this morning made them respond accordingly.

(...Roderic's here)

Having just finished my bath, I quickly hid myself in the shadows.

If I stepped out in the open wearing only my bathrobe over the black negligee Gilbert had made for me, not only would Roderic's life be in danger but mine as well.

(Still... I've never really had a chance to see Gilbert when he speaks to Roderich when I'm not around)

(...I wonder what that vibe is like)

As my curiosity got the better of me and I covertly took a peek...

Gilbert: I'd like for them to submit the draft before it ever gets to that point next time.

Roderic: It's only because nobody can come up with out-of-the-box ideas like you.

Gilbert: They're all conclusions one can arrive at rationally. It's not like I'm making unreasonable demands of anyone.

Gilbert sat at his desk, a serious expression on his face as he moved his quill.

He definitely wasn't smiling like he usually did, but at the same time he didn't seem angry either.

It was an expression I didn't recognize.

Gilbert: ...Also, the draft was poorly-constructed. With this there's too gaps for us to drive that old man into a corner.

Roderic: Then I'll have it returned to you in such a way that we can.

Gilbert: I only appreciate haste. You help them too, Roderic. I'd like to have the contents finalized before our next regular meeting.

Gilbert: If we leave that old man unchecked, he may soon start a losing battle against neighboring countries.

Roderic: ...Understood, sir.

Gilbert: What's the next document?

Roderic: It's here, sir.

Gilbert: ...I know I keep asking, but is there more still?

Roderic: There's a mountain of things I'd like you to look over.

Gilbert: I thought I'd delegated my authority out.

Roderic: This just means that Obsidian needs you.

Gilbert: That's certainly a problem.

Roderic: No, sir, it's not.

Gilbert: ...*sigh* Unless we can get everyone past the idea that failure is some sort of capital crime, won't it be difficult for you and I to manage all this work on our own?

Gilbert: Seems like my presence is a hindrance after all.

Roderic: Please don't say that!

Gilbert: Fine, fine. If you don't like it, then go give out this PSA.

Gilbert: "As long as there's no fraud or corruption at work, I won't kill you over a simple failure. So please rely on your own judgement more."

Roderic: ...Very well, sir.

(So that's the kind of vibe Gilbert has doing official duties when I'm absent)

The atmosphere about him was so serious and earnest that it naturally made me want to stand at attention, and I found myself captivated.

(If he's not smiling, then maybe that's his real expression)

(Gilbert's known Roderic for a long time, so he's able to drop his guard around him)

(...Okay, what's this gloomy feeling I'm having...)

Roderic: ...Sir, let's deal with the rest of this tomorrow.

Gilbert: Hey. You definitely didn't see anything, right?

Roderic: I saw nothing and I noticed nothing.

Gilbert: Is that so? That's fine, then. Thank you for your hard work.

Roderic quickly gathered up his documents and took his leave.

An air of nervousness seemed to cling to him as he made a beeline for the exit, not once looking astray.

The door closed behind him and Gilbert stretched out his arms as if trying to relax.

Gilbert: Now, then, little rabbit.

Emma: ...So you'd noticed me after all.

Gilbert: Well that's a given.

(I'm sorry about the position I put you in, Roderic)

Once he'd beckoned me closer, he prompted me to climb onto his lap.

Emma: Pardon me.

Knowing that my only two choices were to either sit on his lap or be made to sit, I obediently sat down of my own accord.

And Gilbert wrapped his arms around my waist to support me.

Gilbert: You were throwing Roderic such a passionate look.

Emma: I was looking at you!?

Gilbert: He was positioned in the same line of sight.

Gilbert: As you know, you have a very troublesome man on your hands. So you're aware of what you should do at a time like this, right...?

Emma: ......

I placed my hands against Gilbert's cheeks and started kissing him.

I kissed him so much that I began to feel a faint warmth from his cold lips. But when I tried to pull away, Gilbert bit my lip, leaving behind a faint stinging.

(You're still jealous, aren't you?)

Emma: ...Did I interfere with your official duties?

Gilbert: *pouts* Roderic's the one who interfered. Showing up at this hour with documents for review.

Emma: That's probably because you were busy during the day.

Gilbert: *grins* Hehe... I showed you a lot of things I don't like about Obsidian today.

Emma: ...And I want to know about even more of them from now on.

Emma: Because I also want to be able to assist you.

Gilbert: Ahaha, that's reassuring.

(...There are still so many things I don't know about Gilbert and Obsidian...)

(I'm sure some of those things are intentionally being kept hidden from me)

(Things you can talk to Roderic about, but not to me...)

Once again I felt something in my heart falter.

But before I could convince myself that I was just imagining things, Gilbert's cold fingers caressed my cheek.

Gilbert: You're pulling such a long face even though your words are so reassuring,

Emma: ...I wasn't lying.

Gilbert: I know that. So what's eating at you?

(...What's eating at me?)

Emma: ...I can't really put it to words.

Emma: It's just... I'm envious of Roderic.

Emma: He's able to assist you more than me, and knows everything...

(......)

(Oh, this is...)

The moment I realized the true nature of my anxiety, Gilbert broke into a broad smile.

Gilbert: Wow... I'll have to give Roderic a bonus.

Emma: ...I see now. So this what you've been feeling all this time.

(Well no, compared to Gilbert, my 'jealousy' is to a much lesser degree...)

Emma: Hehe... What should I do? I'm really jealous here.

(We match now.)

I wrapped my arms around Gilbert's neck and brought our foreheads together.

Even though it should have been a negative feeling, I felt laughter build up inside me, perhaps because I was one step closer in understanding Gilbert.

Gilbert: Serious jealousy is nothing like that though, you know?

Emma: Are you saying there's more to come?

Gilbert: Yeah. Your jealousy's in the early chapters.

Gilbert: The more and more you come to love me, the less you'll be able to contain that kind of adorable jealousy.

Gilbert seemed truly pleased with my jealousy.

And it was precisely because I could sense that feeling that the anxiety in my heart turned into something endearing.

Emma: I'll work diligently then.

(Because I think being jealous is the most correct way to love Gilbert)

Gilbert: Hehe... I can't believe you've cheered up this much just from turning into a jealousy fiend.

Gilbert: Taming the conquering beast is difficult, isn't it? But it might be easy for you.

Gilbert: Because I'm so madly in love with you.

------ a/n: I'm sorry for any errors! I mostly just clean up whatever the online translators spit out. Sometimes I get really lazy. Also, I haven't really done a full translation post like this in a while, so I just wanted to mention that I took the formatting and translation style from @/hotaru987 sensei!

#ikemen prince #gilbert von obsidian #ikepri jp spoilers #ikepri translation folder

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moremousewrites · 2 days

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Just For You

Request Link

Pairing: Astarion/Tav (GN)

Summary: At the party, your companions get around to asking what you've been doing the last few months. They're shocked to discover you're spending your time with Astarion. They're even more shocked to learn that you'd had a relationship with Astarion the entire time

Tags: just pure fluff and epilogue spoilers

A/N: thank you for requesting! I tried to make it as close to your request while staying in character so i hope you like it 🖤

The night air cooled your skin at your old camp. You never thought you'd see it again; the grounds you'd spend in quiet comfort during those weeks of peril. And to see your friends again after all this time was an even greater privilege. Though, catching up with your companions was proving to be a bit overwhelming for you. You listened intently as they regaled you with anecdotes of their new lives, adventures, and homes. It was a lot to take in, seeing how much they'd changed in the months you'd been away, but pleasant to know they were all right.

At some point in the night, Wyll finally turned the attention onto you. You'd managed to dodge the questioning for the night, asking your companions about their lives. But now it was your turn.

“Enough about me, Tav. What have you been up to these last few months?” He asked, eager to hear from you. You hadn't kept in touch with anyone from the party so it was his first time hearing about your new life. Well you had kept in touch with one person.

“Well, Astarion and I have-” you started.

Wyll cut you off, confused. “Wait, you and Astarion? Did some spark ignite between you after our adventure?” Wyll teased, shocked at what he was hearing.

You looked over at Astarion who was eyeing you, considerably from the other side of the camp. “No, actually. We were… how shall I put this. Involved. Prior to the Netherbrain” you explained, awkwardly, taking a sip from your goblet to hide your face.

Wyll's jaw dropped. “You were together the whole time?!” He practically screamed. All attention was on you now.

You tried to shush him, giggling slightly at his reaction. “Oh no, Tav. You've got some explaining to do. How could you not tell us you and Astarion were a thing?” He asked in disbelief.

“What the fuck?!” Karlach chimed in, running over to you. “Soldier, are you shitting me?” She asked, grabbing you by the shoulders and shaking you. Your drink splashed onto your hand and you grabbed her arm to steady yourself.

Again, you shook your head. Where was that vampire of yours? “Well… technically it wasn't the whole time” Ah, there he was. You heard his voice approach behind you and felt his hand on your lower back. Karlach released you to watch the spectacle before her. “Most of our time was obviously devoted to killing cultists and the occasional mind flayer but yes in the duration of our adventure we formed a beautiful bond” Astarion explained in an aloof way.

You could see your companions weren't satisfied with his answer at all but it didn't matter. The quiet nights you shared together, the stolen glances and tearful confessions. Those were only for the two of you. It was your love, and it was finally a peaceful one. You were happy to share your adventure with your friends, but some things were just for you.

As the night was ending and you said your last goodbyes, you made your way to Astarion. He had a soft look in his eyes, one he saved for you and you alone. “Did you have a nice time, my love” he asked, sincerely.

You nodded. “Yes I did. I missed them” you sighed, taking his hand in yours.

Astarion gave your hand a gentle squeeze to reassure you. “We'll see them again. Until then, let's go home” he said. You walked away from the camp you once called home, hand in hand.

#bg3 #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #astarion #astarion x tav #astarion x reader #bg3 requests

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cerise-on-top · 16 hours

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heyhey!! just wanted to say your works are amazing and i love them so so so SO much aagghhh!!

now onto the request— what if,, what if reader knew a ton of languages like nikolai does, and they call their s/o pet names in those languages. an example would be,, maybe if they knew french they would say 'mon chéri' or perhaps they picked up romanian at some point and would call them 'dragă'

the characters i have in mind are price, nik, alejandro, & rudy, if that's okay !! (´▽`)

sorry for the super long ask, lol :')

Hey there! Thank you, that makes me really happy to hear :D And don't worry about sending longer asks, I really don't mind ^^ Also, that request is really cute! I love reader speaking several languages and being a sweetheart in all of them :D

Price, Alejandro, Rodolfo and Nikolai with an S/O who Knows Many Languages

Price: I think he knows quite a few languages himself, being a captain in the SAS and all. Not nearly as many as Nikolai, but he probably knows a good three to four languages, so he likely wouldn’t be entirely clueless when you call him something along the lines of mon petit chou fleur. While he won’t understand every term of endearment you call him, it does warm his heart to hear you speak a language he doesn’t know. It flows off your tongue very nicely and he just loves listening to you. Depending on what kind of language it may be, even the profanities sound nice. Although whenever you want to get his attention, just to call him something in a language he doesn’t understand, he sort of expects it to be some cute pet name. Will always smile at you, even if you were to call him your albernes kleines Kaninchen. Retorts with a pet name in one of the languages he speaks. Sometimes he does feel the urge to learn a new language, just for you. Or maybe you could learn a new language together? Practice with each other and just have a good time overall? He might bring up the idea at some point.

Alejandro: Like Price, he probably knows a few languages himself. More than the average person, but not nearly as many as Nikolai. So probably three to four as well. However, because he knows Spanish there’s a good chance he can derive most words in a Romance language. Call him something along the lines of giliw and he’ll always retort with some embarrassing pet name in Spanish. Yes, he knows several languages himself, but that doesn’t mean he won’t almost always revert to Spanish anyway. Pretends that you’re using your languages against him and calls you a traitor. And, as is the rule in your household when you’ve betrayed him, you will be held accountable. Lots of chasing through the house. Will “interrogate” you to get you to tell him what you said. Call him a term of endearment in Spanish and you won’t ever hear the end of it. No matter how many times he hears you call him guapo, he always gets that goofy grin on his face. Might research embarrassing terms of endearment to use on you in any other language. And yes, his goal is to find a language you don’t speak. Once he’s found one? He’s not gonna let you live it down. He’s bested you, and that’s all he wanted.

Rodolfo: You’d actually have to call him by his name if you want his reaction since he usually just tends to block out people speaking a language he doesn’t know. Why bother trying to understand someone like that? It’s not like he’ll learn the language overnight anyway. Rodolfo knows about three languages, so not as many as Alejandro. But he knows English and Spanish, which means he can communicate in most places anyway. He thinks he knows enough languages since learning one takes roughly an eternity and he doesn’t have the time for that anyway. Call him Cục vàng and he’ll just look at you as though you’ve grown a second head. You’d have to tell him what it means and then he’ll smile. While he will always appreciate a good Hartlam, he might look at you confused until you tell him you love him. Might not always retort with a pet name of his own, but will mix it up among the languages he does know since he doesn’t wanna seem too stupid next to you. Will also sometimes look up new terms of endearment in languages he doesn’t know so he can surprise you, but might get a bit shy since he might botch the pronunciation a bit. But he tries, and that’s all that matters.

Nikolai: He canonically knows eight languages, so there’s a good chance he knows what you’re saying. Even when you’re saying something in a language he might not entirely know, he might be able to derive the word from a language he does know. Although he may love any pet name you give him, he especially loves any Russian ones since he’s very attached to his country and his native tongue. Goes absolutely wild whenever you call him radnoy. There’s just something so sweet about you calling him something nice in Russian, doesn’t even matter if you botch the pronunciation. Will always give you a hug and a kiss to your forehead since he will always be reminded of how much he loves you. But even a simple min søde skat will get him to smile, even if he has no idea what it means this time. Because of you he might be inspired to pick up some new languages along the way, maybe even ones you don’t know so you can get the same treatment he does with you. Whenever you speak a language he doesn’t know he gets heart eyes for you. You’re just so gorgeous, you’re just so very smart. However, at some point he will just start speaking Russian to you, even if you don’t know the language. He won’t say anything mean, he’ll just tell you how precious you are and how much he loves you.

#cod #cod x reader #john price #john price x reader #price x reader #alejandro vargas #alejandro vargas x reader #rodolfo parra #rodolfo parra x reader #cod nikolai #nikolai x reader #I wish I knew more languages than I actually do #I'd love to be at least trilingual. I suppose one of these days I shall learn another language #I've already started the same one twice but I never got too far since something always came inbetween #Oh what I'd give to be lovey dovey with someone in three languages #I wish I still knew Italian. I learned it in school but I never needed it again #I also had Latin. If you give me a dictionary and some time I could probably translate some sentences still #or maybe not. it's been three years now #but I suppose being cringe in German and my own dialect is just fine #I've always loved speaking my dialect to my best friend who only knows English #I've also always loved texting him in said dialect #“Your impossible to Google translate German” I love that guy so much he's so silly #I will never cease my silly dialect!! that's why there will be plenty of König to go around :-) I don't care. he speaks my dialect #gonna hit y'all with a good old Servas griaß di #König is my little Barbie doll: I make him do whatever I want #sorry this derailed into König again. I just love shaking and rotating him violently in my head ^^

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alexbrainrot · 2 days

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alex yearns for a family with you / smut

pairing: husband!alex x afab!farmer a/n: this was in my drafts i just tweaked it a little..

alex was helping you install some new sprinklers and looked over your land as he did so. it was beautiful, you worked so hard to get it this way. it was well kept and spacious. perfect enough for a family.

he didn't want to pressure you into having kids, he never really asked you about how you felt towards having any. he wanted to wait until you brought it up, but still, he couldn't help but dream of becoming a father. the father of your kids specifically.

ever since you two got married, he's been a happier man. he matured a lot, or at least that's what you told him and he trusted your word for it. he felt it in a way too, his priorities began to shift and he no longer focused on irrelevant matters. he was learning so many things as your husband and day by day, his desire to raise kids with you grew stronger.

"this is a great place to raise children. i would've loved growing up in a place like this. so much room to run around.." he says bashfully, brushing off the dirt on his boots.

you were too busy using your scythe to even process what he said for a moment. then, you finally looked at him, shielding your eyes from the sunlight. "you think so..?"

"yeah." he responds in a quiet voice. his gaze softening. he hoped that you understood what he was really trying to say. a comfortable silence follows before he turns away and continues adjusting your sprinklers. in the back of his mind he wonders if you have the same wish he does.

alex knew child bearing was not a walk in the park. the moment he began to think about parenthood, he picked up a few books in the library in secret. it taught him a lot, and made him more sympathetic towards your decision whatever it may be.

still, it was hard to let go of the idea.

that night, when you finally got into bed after a long day of hard labor, he turned to face you.

you smile softly, a little surprised that he was still awake, usually when you got home this late he was fast asleep. the moonlight shined through your bedroom window, creating a sparkle in his green eyes. "not sleepy?"

"mm." he sighs and looks away.

"tell me."

"tell you..?"

"somethings on your mind, lex."

he scratches the back of his neck, unsure if he should even bring it up. he feels like he has no right to at all. he pauses for a long time before he builds up the courage.

"do you.. want to try for a baby?"

his words and the look on his face immediately make your cheeks flush. it suddenly made sense to you why he brought up children earlier out of the blue.

"a baby..?" you whisper back. he can't help but smile in response. he wants you to say yes so badly. his body scoots closer until you can feel his warmth and he gently wraps his strong arms around your waist. "i don't know where you stand on this.. but i really want to be the father of your children." his voice quiet, almost pleading.

your eyes search his, he looks so sincere. you didn't know he felt this way at all.

"i'll help you the whole entire way, i promise. i'll take care of the farm.. i'll-" you cut him off with a soft kiss. your hand grasps his shirt and bunches it up as you pull him even closer.

he blushes and catches his breath when you finally break the kiss. "is that a yes..?" you gently nod your head. "yes, honey.”

the joy that he feels upon hearing that is indescribable. he squeezes your waist and kisses your face all over before nuzzling into your neck causing you to giggle. his touch is soft and gentle as his hand grazes your side.

“how are you feeling tonight..?” he whispers in a low voice before planting wet kisses down your neck.

you feel your whole body heat up immediately. the sudden change in his demeanor caught you off guard. “l-lex..”

“tell me… can i fill you up tonight, baby?”

his words make you shudder. “im a little sore...” it wasn’t a lie, you had been out on your farm the entire day trying to prepare for spring.

“you don’t have to do anything…just turn around for me..” he whispers, adjusting you so that he’s hugging you from behind. your backside pressed up against him, feeling his muscles flex. he sneakily removes your pajama shorts along with your panties evoking a gasp from you. his other hand still wrapped around your waist keeping you in place.

"this okay with you?" he lips brush the back of your neck. everything he was doing was sending you into a frenzy, it was as if you were losing complete control. your body was reacting on its own.

he pinches your side when you don't directly respond to him. "tell me, dear."

"y-yes lex.. please.."

you could already feel his hardened length underneath his boxers, poking at your entrance. with a swift movement, he slides them down and you're skin to skin.

"let me make this easier, dear." he grabs one of your legs and lifts it up gently, allowing him easy access to your entrance.

slowly, he inserts himself inside of you, wanting to savor the moment. you could feel him stretching you out inch by inch. "oh.." you let out a shaky gasp and grip his forearm as he takes his time. his thick cock took a while to ease into.

he grunts when he bottoms out fully and his fingers dig into your waist. he's trying his hardest to wait for your signal to start moving, but the way your insides hug him is difficult to resist.

his breath is heavy as he begins to thrust in and out with caution. the sensation is too much for him to handle. he feels himself so pathetically close already since it was your first time having sex without protection.

"y-you're so wet, fuck." his voice is husky against your ear. you simply whimper, unable to even give him a proper response with the way his hips are snapping against your ass.

he can hear the lewd sounds of your squelching pussy every time he pistons in and out of you.

"you're gonna look so pretty with a swollen belly.." he whispers. "we'll try every day, sweetheart. i wont miss a day." grunts and moans escape his mouth as his pace quickens. his thrusts becoming sloppier as the tension in his abdomen starts to build up.

"can't wait to suck on your swollen tits, sweetie.. fuck." his grip on your waist tightens after every word he speaks, he's so close.

"g-god lex.. faster.."

all he needed were your words to encourage him, his firm grip steadies you while he pounds into your cunt relentlessly. both of your bodies are sweaty, his hair is sticking to his forehead and his eyes are screwed shut while he uses up all of his strength and energy to help the both of you reach your climax.

his body felt like it was on fire, chasing that pleasurable feeling.

not long after, he feels you arch your back and let out a long drawn out moan. your juices coat his cock and your flushed body heaves up and down. he follows suit and groans as his hot seed spurts inside your pussy, filling you up so well. his member thrusting until there's nothing to give anymore.

his large hand brings your leg back down and delicately caresses your thigh as you both start to come down from your high. you can feel him smiling against your skin. "i really want to be a dad." he mumbles.

you smile and bring his hand up to your lips, planting a small kiss.

"fingers crossed."

#alex sdv #alex stardew valley #sdv alex fic #sdv alex smut #fem!farmer #stardew valley alex #stardew valley smut #sdv smut #stardew fanfic #stardew x reader #sdv alex #sdv alex x afab reader

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krahk · 1 day

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Blood for Ruin

Part One : Part Two : Part Three : Part Four : Part Five

Alastor x OFC/Reader (no use of Y/N)

18+

Part Six

(Or, Alastor, snakes, and cannibals - oh my!)

The next morning Charlie wasn’t downstairs, and Vaggie looked like something kicked her dog. The vibes of the hotel were totally off. You had tried to ask the woman what had happened when she and Charlie had their meeting, but she was too upset to talk. Angel Dust and Husk were confused about what happened as well, and it was impossible to get to Charlie, she had barricaded herself in her room.

After 3 or 4 days you finally had enough and knocked incessantly on Charlie’s door, before she finally opened the door, eyes red and horns coming out of her head slightly. She looked like she had been crying all night, eyes puffy and bloodshot. You held up a bottle of wine and two glasses, shaking them back and forth. “Hey you! I think you need a break from…whatever it is you’re doing in here.”

Charlie opened her mouth, likely to tell you to go away, but you continued quickly, “We don’t even have to talk, but I think sometimes it's good not to be alone.” Charlie hesitated, her body slightly rocking back while her eyes went up in thought, debating on what she should do. She pushed the door open and walked towards her bed and sat crisscrossed on it. You closed the door with a flick of your hips and joined the princess on her bed, passing her a glass while you fought with the cork. Once the two of you had wine poured, it took a few sips before Charlie opened up.

”Have you ever had someone you love lie to you?” You snorted at the question, before realising the hurt on the woman’s face.

“Yes, for sure yes, probably everyone I’ve ever loved. They all do. But I also lived with humans forever, and I’m sorry to break it to you but a lot of them think that little lies to save someone from a little hurt now grows into something massive that hurts a lot later. Unfortunately, you only learn not to do it from experience. Is this person who lied to you…usually a liar? Or are you confident they aren’t still lying to you?”

Her eyes became glossy with tears as she swirled her wine glass. “I don’t know. I thought I knew this person but it turns out they were lying about everything that they were. I’ve spent the last few years of my life with them and now I’m not sure any of it was real.”

Okay, she was clearly talking about Vaggie. Because everyone else was pretty much new to her life, this would have to be a delicate conversation. What on earth was she lying about? You had to tread lightly and be vague, but hopefully helpful. “Do you think they lied to hurt you? Like wanting to make sure you hurt?” You asked. Good, steady start there. Charlie thought for a second. “I don’t think so?”.

“Okay, is it a new lie or an old lie?” No thinking required, Charlie responded with “Old lie. Right away lie. Like as soon as I met them lie.” Hmm. You took a second to think about your experiences, wanting to give good advice to her, as she deserved it entirely.

“Were they scared? Like look back on your first meeting.” You tried to remember if Vaggie and Charlie had ever talked about their meeting, but all you knew for sure was that they have met around 3 years ago during extermination. Charlie released a large sigh, and a tear fell down her cheek. “I mean, probably? There was a lot going on.”

“Okay, and did they know who you were? Like, not your name, but your position, status, etcetera?” It was good the demon was opening up, her voice sounded hoarse from crying and a lack of use. You filled up Charlie’s glass which was emptied from a large gulp. “No. No idea.” You nodded at her response and met her eyes with a soft smile.

“Okay, that sounds to me that the lie first happened because they were scared. Lies grow, and lies from fear only make a person more scared. It sounds like they might have been unsure on how to tell you the truth, because whenever the time was right they didn’t want you to hurt - probably because they loved you. Love makes us complicated and stupid, Charlie. It’s one of the reasons why it doesn’t make any sense, and it’s also why it exists in all factions of life and death. You can probably thank your dad for that actually, free will has a huge part in it.”

Charlie gave you a strained smile in return, but it was clear she was still unsure. “I’m not telling you to forgive right away, but if this is the first person who has lied to you in your life so far, that’s pretty good. People obviously try to be the best version of themselves around you - they can’t help it. That’s why it’s great of you to try and do this program! Nobody wanted to let you down, you’re too pure a soul. Especially down here,” You laughed, and gave her a rib nudge with your elbow. Silence took over as the two of you finished off the bottle. Eventually Charlie started pulling at the threads on her comforter, and you took that as a sign to give her some space.

”Hey, I hope you feel a bit better, I’m just a floor away from you if you ever need to chat, or paint each other's nails…hooves,” You corrected, glancing at her feet. Charlie laughed lightly, and gave you a smile. Not quite as big as you were used to from the woman, but still brighter than when you first came in. “I’ll let you get back to moping, sometimes laying in bed crying and being sad is therapeutic. It reminds you what makes you happy. I hope this…helped?” You inquired. Charlie nodded her head and said her thanks, crawling back under her covers.

You collected the glasses and empty bottle and tiptoed out of the room, closing the door quietly as you left. When you had returned to the kitchen to put the items in the sink, you caught the last bit of whatever broadcast Alastor was on. You made tea while the instrumental song played, filling the kitchen with a comforting sound.

Alastor ended his show with a polite goodbye, your tea was steeping and you thought about the conversation you just had . You felt okay about the advice you gave Charlie, and honestly hoped it was helpful to her. With less than a month before the guaranteed extermination, everyone needed to be in their best headspace. As you tried to go out the swing door it opened abruptly, knocking your tea out of your hand, and smacking you into the nose, resulting in teary eyes and your hands covering your face as you grimaced in pain and groaned from the impact. The cup shattered on the ground and tea splattered everywhere.

Cursing, you started to look down to help with the nose bleed, and a black and red hand came into view, holding a handkerchief. You grabbed it and pressed it into your face as you slowly rose your eyes up to see Alastor standing there, matching handkerchief against his own nose. He gave a disgruntled hmm as he looked down at you. You backed up back to a stool and sat down, spinning to put your elbows on the counter to keep pressure on your face.

Alastor had simply vanished his microphone and walked over to the kettle, which was still warm. He began to fix himself a tea and held up the kettle asking silently if you needed a new cup. Politely accepting his offer, he started to make you one as well. In a moment the two of you were seated opposite one another, nursing tea and letting the pain on your face diminish.

After snapping away the mess on the floor, he had conjured some sort of newspaper and was reading it, sipping his tea politely. You held the warm cup between your hands and found yourself constantly drifting your eyes to his person. He truly was unlike anything or anyone you had ever met, there was something simply fascinating about his character. The features that once scared you for being unusual now made you linger about how wonderfully unique they were. While his smile when wide was still spooky, there were a few times you caught him with a real smile. Like when Mimzy popped in, or whenever you noticed him and Nifty speaking with one another on their own. Even now, as he read the paper, his smile was small, but seemingly genuine. Like he was just decompressing from a hard day at work.

You glanced up to his face to realise he was staring back at you. When your eyes connected a sharp jolt of shock ran through you. How long had he watched you staring at him? Hopefully just a second. Maybe you could blame disassociation and staring into the void causing the uncomfortable staring. However, where you thought would be anger, or disapproval, was just curious acknowledgment. You both openly stared at each other, and somehow it wasn’t quite as awkward as it had been in the past. It was like a mutual new discovery, both just looking to learn or understand the creature in front of you.

Suddenly the door swung open so hard it hit the wall, and Vaggie had entered, clearly on a mission the two of you watched the woman scramble some food together before leaving the kitchen in a rush. She looked just as bad as Charlie did. You turned your head to meet Alastor’s gaze once more, his eyes already fixated on you. You coughed into your hand and realised your tea had cooled down significantly. How long had you two stared at one other? You rose up and intended to say goodnight, but Alastor had reached over to grab your cup, put it in the sink and turned around with a small bow and offered his arm to you.

“Would you care for an escort madam?” You laughed at his ‘performance’ voice, accepting his offer. The two of you headed up the stairs in silence, but you were thrilled that the two of you were capable of being in a silence other than awkward. This was a huge development as far as you were concerned. He walked you to your door as you unlocked it and turned around to face him while you opened the door. As you began to say goodnight, you noticed a small blush on his face before you felt the familiar burn across your own. Did he blush first this time? Usually it was you, right? You stuttered out a thank you, dipped your head down a bit just as he had taken a small step forward, resulting in your ears brushing past his chin, causing both of you to shudder. Blushes now bright, you repeated your thanks.

“Thank you for the tea, Alastor. And the escort. A true gentleman. ”You curtseyed lightly. He nodded at your words, putting a fist to his lips to cough lightly and break the strange tension that had suddenly built up between the two of you.

“A gentleman never leaves a lady in the dark, darling. Sleep well.’’ Before stepping backwards towards his own door, turning around on his heel to go through the threshold of his own room. As you closed your own door and began your nightly routine, you went over the strange night and moments just shared with the Radio Demon. What was up with the sudden flip in behaviour? Was this a part of his payback? And if so, why did it feel like a jolt of arousal surged through you when your ears hit his chin? Was that you, or his?

And these were the thoughts that plagued you before sleep, resulting in a restless night indeed.

After a few days (and Angel nosing about) the lie had finally spread through the hotel. Vaggie was an ex-exterminator, which explained why Charlie was so burdened with grief. Terribly discovered via Adam in Heaven, right after the Seraphim’s had decided plausibility that a soul could be redeemed. It was obvious Charlie had taken it like a punch to the gut. Still, though this was a peculiar situation in general, it did not explain why Lucifer, AKA the unknown number, was calling you first thing on a weekday morning. You were in bed, still half-awake, while the obvious genetic contributor to Charlie’s speed talking and manic tangents was bombarding you with all sorts of questions about the girl. You let him get all he had to say out of him before responding, hoping everything would catch up to your brain.

”-and that’s why I’m calling you because I know girls talk canyoutellmeanythingaboutwhatisgoingon??” He expelled a large gust of air from his lungs that had clearly been building during his rant, and you waited a couple of seconds before responding groggily.

“Lemme get this straight-”

“Uh-Huh!”

“Charlie isn’t responding to you, so you’ve called your way through the hotel, but I’m the only one who answered,”

“…Yes”,

“And you’re expecting me to just break whatever trust I’ve built with her to tell you what she’s feeling?”

A pause. “Um, yeeess?” He could tell you were unimpressed with his remark, and you could imagine the face he was making through the phone. You heard a soft slap, the sound of someone hitting his own face, which was well deserved.

“Yea, sir, Mr…Morningstar Devil sir, what you’re suggesting is a huge breach of trust to someone who is trying to deal with that exact thing from another close person to her. You’re just going to have to wait until she reaches out. She probably knows you’ve called and messaged her, and that alone is enough for her to know that you care.”

Silence.

“I promise, as a girl with my own daddy issues, forcing yourself into her life is not a great idea. It’ll likely push her away because she’ll feel like you’re trying to say she can’t figure this out on her own, which is exactly what she needs to do right now. Do I make sense?”

A sigh came out, and he hummed through the phone. “Stop pouting sir, you’re a bit above that, I think.”

”Uh-pfft, ah- rude. I am not pouting!”

“Mmhmm. Sure my guy. How about, I tell you what I know she does like, and you can have it delivered to the hotel, or someone can bring it to her door, a kind gesture can go a long way. Also, it is not an invasion of privacy.”

”Ah. So perhaps I shouldn’t tell you I’m outside the hotel?”

Oh for absolute shits sake. “You’re joking, right? Ha-ha? Funny guy?” Fingers crossed, but for the king of demons you could tell he was pretty terrible at lying.

“I won’t tell you then, but maybe don’t look outside. At least for another like, 10 minutes until I’m out of sight, god what was I thinking I’m an idiot- Hey! Why don’t you just show me what she likes? Maybe I’ll see why she’s so eager to save these unfortunate souls.” He was excited now. Could one say no to the devil? Should you even ask? “I mean…I guess?” You answered hesitantly, kind of hoping he would pick up on the not so subtle tone of someone who really didn’t want to go.

”Oh good! I was worried you would say no. To the Devil. The King of Hell. Lord of the Pride Ring” Ah yes, one does in fact not say no to the devil. You groaned inwardly, allowing a soft sigh out. “I’ll be down in a second, I have to get dressed.”

“Yay!”

Slamming your room door while hopping on one foot trying to get the second shoe on your foot you came a little too close to the wall and bumped into it, making a photo on it clatter loudly. This resulted in Alastors door opening up. He took in your appearance, nice but not too nice with a simple white cotton dress featuring a modest hemline, thin straps on your shoulders and a full circle skirt that ended right above your knees.

You were finally successful in slipping on your short red boot with a white toe & heel, which just edged the outfit into something a little fancier. You stood up straight and rubbed your elbow, the main victim of your impact with the wall. You laughed, slightly embarrassed that he caught the tail end of another clumsy moment, which did nothing for the worry the two of you had with basic survival in Hell. He gestured to your person with his microphone, eyebrow raised as he questioned your attire. For one who wore all black leisure wear most days, this was obviously a ‘going out’ look.

Ah, yes. Lucifer wasn’t Husk, but surely a safe person to walk around hell with, right? “Mr. Morningstar…the King? Lucifer?” What the hell were you supposed to call him? Both of Alastors brows raised at the mention of his name but he allowed you to continue, “Mr whatever he is. He wants to get Charlie something to cheer her up. But I think the both of us can agree that he probably isn’t the best to go grab her something on a whim. He asked for my help, and I’m pretty sure ‘yes’ or ‘yes sir’ were the only two acceptable answers for the ruler of Hell.” You shrugged your shoulders, waiting for Alastors reaction.

You expected snarky comments about Lucifer, you did not expect him to grip his microphone so hard his knuckles would be white if his hands weren’t black and a sharp, thin smile of disapproval. He was easier to read when he was mad, so you picked up on this vibe immediately.

“Is that so?” His voice slightly above condescending, “And he asked our little lost Doe for help? Our newest acquisition of the hotel? Out of all of Hell in general? Peculiar!” You made a tight lipped face, frowning in return.

“Alastor, I’m the only one who answered the phone. So really, I’m the last one who picked up. Trust me, I’m not overly pleased with it but I feel like I can’t say no. He doesn’t seem the type to take it very well.”

”And if I were to say you cannot go?” He remarked, looking towards the stairs now.

”Uhh. I am…not sure? I guess tell him that you don’t want me going and let him brew why I would listen to what you wanted? Again Alastor, he doesn’t seem like the most understanding person when it comes to not going with his plans. He is the King of Hell, and ‘Lord of the Pride’ realm.” The last bit said with a bit of a lofty attitude paired with finger quotes.

Alastor was clearly processing your statement, and it was hard for him to admit you were likely correct. What a pain. Lucifer was an absolute moron, unfit to be a father, unfit to be king. But he was top dog right now, and Alastor was not. “Perhaps I will join the two of you, to ensure no distracting detours take place. I am concerned his appearance will garner unwanted attention.”

Oh, that was a good point, and you let Alastor know. You invited him to come down, grabbing an apple on the way out the door. You were squinting your eyes looking around for the King, where you spotted a very white snake wearing a top hat wrapped around the gate. He was not one for blending in, not at all.

“There you are!” The snake said, slithering to the ground to come beside you. “You certainly like to make a man wait!” Your eyes rolled, and Alastor coughed, cutting into the conversation. The snake hissed, unimpressed with his presence. “Why is he here? I thought you were helping me?”

“Look, Alastor has known Charlie longer than me, and he is interested in making sure we find the right thing for her. His knowledge on this matter is invaluable.” What the Hell was going on. Was Lucifer jealous?

“Well, I’m not happy about it, always inserting himself where he isn’t wanted!” Alastor was behind the two of you, Lucifer slithering until the three of you made it down the hill out of the hotel’s view. You looked at him and scrunched your face a bit. He was a lot to take in. Alastor was right, he would likely bring unwanted attention. “Um…sir, do you have a disguise? Charlie will probably hear on the news that Lucifer is shopping for his daughter, this would probably be best as a surprise?” Please change form, please change form, please -

Oh thank god. He changed into a black goat-man hybrid thing, goat eyes and all. You noticed his horns in their natural state were larger than Alastors, Yang the two of you made eye contact with mutual understanding. Overcompensation. You coughed out a laugh, and grumbled out any remaining chuckles at his expense. Alastor, as always, needed to get an edge in however and had no issue pointing it out. “Making up for something? Those are mighty large horns for someone who has such a fine, delicate physicality like yours.” Alastors face was filled with glee, the fire in his eyes lighting up Lucifers. They stared at each other and you could feel the static from their clashing gazes.

“Well, I don’t think you need to be concerned, I am the King of Hell, after all. I think that means I can have big horns. Big, beautiful, horns. Sorry that your horns or…er, antlers aren’t as impressive. But you make them work for you and your ridiculous ears!” Alright, that was enough now, you needed to interject this ridiculous headbutting or else it would go on forever.

“Al~right! One, I take offence to the ear remark, we didn’t have a choice. Two, whip ‘em out for the world to see so we can put a period in this pissing contest, and three, I’m starving, this apple has a worm in it because of course it does, and bet your ass I am going to be the scariest damn thing on this street unless I get food in me so let's get going.”

You had crossed your arms and tapped your little boot on the street, thankfully with a well timed growl from your stomach. Lucifer scowled and turned to stomp down the street, barely containing his hissy fit. Alastor couldn’t help but smile at your outburst, you were quite adorable when you tried to boss people around. However one thing had confused him -

“My dear, what am I to ‘whip out’?” He asked as he gestured for you to start walking, him matching your stride and sticking by your side. Oh Jesus Murphy no. He was, like, a century old. This wasn’t new slang, was it? A couple of times you had to educate him on a few newer idioms, generally funny little cute things regarding stuff that took place long after he died, but this was just…not great. “Uuuh. Hmm. How can I put this without bursting into flames?”

You pondered, tapping your chin and mentally patting yourself on the back for not having done so already, “Think about what is required for one to ‘piss’ and perhaps how that could be used to measure such a thing and compare it to perhaps another persons…thing?” Oh such a good beginning only to tank it at the end. Alastor only hmm’d at your statement, glancing at his reflection in the windows as you walked by, Lucifer still ahead of the two of you kicking stones like a toddler.

“Well, I generally do enjoy entering in contests I know I will win, however I am not interested in learning what divine punishment may come upon me for utterly destroying the Devil’s self confidence. Let us consider him lucky that I am in a charitable mood this morning.” He was looking ahead, but his smile was certainly one of the cat that got the canary. You laughed, earning a small chuckle in return, and accepted his crooked arm by weaving your own and meeting his elbow with yours.

The two of you walked behind Lucifer as he tried to order the two of you to walk faster, he was in a hurry. Alastors grip was strong, and he shook his head as you tried to pick up the pace. It wouldn’t be until later that night that in no uncertain terms, Alastor definitely had just told you he was absolutely packing down under.

Spending the morning and early afternoon babysitting Lucifer was one of the worst jobs you ever had. He was all about grand statements, shiny, expensive things. Nothing about the things he wanted to get would interest Charlie. She would certainly say thank you and accept it to not hurt his feelings, but it wouldn’t mean anything to her.

Eventually his steam wore out, and while Alastor was occupied window shopping, bored of your many questions to this royal pain in the ass. “Sir, we’ve been over this. What do you know she likes. Even if it isn’t something we can get.”

“I told you! I only remember things she liked as a kid…and even then I don’t have faith she still likes to eat crayons and cut her own hair.” He sat down on the curb, head in his hands. “I really am a bad father, aren’t I? God, how did I think this would work.” You sat down beside him, patting his back, mindlessly offering support. A group of bull demons walked by and cat-called you, resulting in you rolling your eyes and Lucifer snapping them into bugs. Ah, to have such power over douchebags would be wonderful.

“Really, I don’t know why she wants to redeem some of these people. I understand why she loves you all so much, you’re all alright for sinners. Well, most of you…” He trailed off, looking to Alastors direction. His face held disgust before you realised what he had said.

“That’s it! Oh my god, I have an idea!” You were excited at what was going to happen. “can you conjure anything?” You asked the forlorn angel.

“Pretty much, yea. Living things is a generally a no, why?” You rattled off your idea, Lucifer's eyes brightening excitedly and jumping up with joy with the prospect of creating Charlie’s gift. Why had none of you thought of him making something until now? You relayed the gift to Alastor, and even he was unable to deny the predicted success of your idea. Lucifer said he would need to workshop it, but it wouldn’t take him too long to finish it. You sent him a few things via text message before he disappeared, clearly off to work his magic. A text hit you back right after he left, where he thanked you and left a winky emoji, and a heart. The man was a menace, for sure. Alastor looked at your phone while you responded with a thumbs up and tilted your head up to your left side to meet Alastor’s gaze. He didn’t seem too pleased with the familiarity Lucifer appeared to have with you, but honestly - no way, no how. Lucifer was just…full of love, mostly. Charlie had to get it from somewhere and if her mother could ditch her so easily you doubted she got it from that side.

“I think it’ll be adorable, I’m excited to see it complete. I hope he pays attention to the pictures.” You were breaking the silence, unsure of how the rest of the day would go now that you and Alastor had been left alone. He nodded before asking you to join him to meet a friend. He said he needed to catch up with an old friend, but you might enjoy her (her?) company as well. So, having faith it was harmless, the two of you walked towards his mystery destination, enjoying each other's company, honestly.

When your face paled at the sign reading ‘Cannibal Town’, Alastor laughed at you. “Re~lax! They are perfectly polite here, they do not simply pounce and consume! They prefer one to be dead before consumption. And you, my dear, are very much alive.” He still linked arms with you and pulled you close to keep you comfortable, as some of the locals licked your lips as the two of you walked by. Finally, when the two of you approached a large gazebo in the heart of town, Alastor announced himself to the actual tallest woman you had met. Impeccably dressed, as well. Her name was Rosie, and she was hilarious. It was clear she and Alastor had a long standing friendship filled with mutual respect. The woman had the two of you served with tea and while seated, took her time grilling you with questions.

”Now Alastor, is this the little thorn in your side? The other half to your coin? She’s an absolute doll!” She clapped her hands towards you and smiled wide. Alastor confirmed her theory, and that was when you knew Rosie was to be trusted completely. If Alastor spoke such secrets with her he clearly had nothing to worry about here. It was nice to be around such generous and lively company after your past few hours with a selfish baby. Rosie ate up a large part of your afternoon right into the evening, before politely wishing you a safe trip home.

“Wonda-ful to meet you Darling! Visit me anytime, I know he’s a handful!” Rosie shouted as she waved you off, resulting in you laughing at Alastors expense. ”She’s wonderful Alastor, thank you for introducing me.” Alastor hummed in acknowledgement, nodding in confirmation to your statement. “Rosie is a safe place if your safety is ever compromised. She was here before me so we have known each other for a long while. It was no accident I wanted the two of you to meet.”

You nodded, knowing he was more concerned for his own safety than yours. You weren’t hurt by the knowledge, not really, but for some reason the thought brought your mood down. And unfortunately the two of you were getting much better at picking up on each other's moods lately, and he remarked on it, stopping to look at you with what might have been concern, but was more likely frustration. “Have I said something untowards?” He asked, politely waiting for you to answer.

“No, I was just thinking that…hopefully Lucifer does a good job on Charlie’s things. I really want it to turn out, she really deserves it.” His silence and narrowed eyes let you know he was aware you were hiding something. But it had been a wonderful day, and he allowed the urge to call you out to pass. You yawned suddenly, surprised that you could be tired even though it was still light out. “Well, we should continue my dear. I suggest we take the express!” Alastor exclaimed, grabbing you very close, hands on both sides of you, bringing you close. Then suddenly you were absorbed by his shadows and it felt as if you were sinking but being pulled out at the same time. By the time the world around you stopped moving you realised that he used his shadow magic to spit the two of you into the hallway between your hotel rooms.

Not entirely unpleasant but not really something you were looking to use as a main form of travel anytime soon. Alastor walked you the 6 steps to your door and the two of you had another minor staring contest, the silence thick, but your heartbeat pounding in your head. Or perhaps it was Alastors heartbeat, as he was still quite close to you. “I commend you on your brainchild from earlier, why I do believe it is something that even Lucifer Moriningstar can accomplish!” You opened your door and smirked at his comment.

“You better be careful, you’re essentially insulting Charlie by proxy, that is her father after all, I think we both learned how similar they can be today.” Alastors familiar laugh was followed up by radio laughter, something he only saved for what you figured was ‘true funny’. “Have a good night Alastor!” You slowly entered, holding the handle behind you as you thought about a foolish fantasy. It was so quiet, and you turned your head back around, only to meet the Radio Demons glowing eyes. Awe fuck me! You should have just walked in and shut the door like a smart person.

Alastor was suddenly right behind you, your head still turned around so sharply that you body had started to make the same turn. Alastor whispered into your ears, and it made your whole body break out in a sensual chill. “I believe you owe me something, darling.” He said in a low, breathy manner. His voice shot straight down to your core. Your jaw, opening and closing in awe, had him interrupting your thoughts once more. “A thank you would be grand, considering I was on my best behaviour!”

Holy shit were you glad he followed up his statement with what he wanted right away, because your mind went straight into the gutter”. A small mouthed ‘O’ fell on your lips and you turned your body around so you were facing him entirely now. You did a small curtsy, and said your polite and proper goodbyes. He bowed slightly before grabbing your chin and filled most of the gap, leaning in softly saying “good girl” basically right into your ear. Was that a moan, did you moan? Judging by the insane smile that filled his face, you had indeed. He backed his head up slightly to catch your eyes, and the two of you sported twin blushes and deep breathing. Somehow in the tete a tete happening between the two of you, you had grabbed the lapel of his coat while he still held your chin in place. He was so close to you it felt as if you were breathing in each other's air. You were certain it was only a moment but time felt as if it had slowed down. Your lips were just a hair apart now, and you could surely feel each other's faces burning. What was happening?

When a door down the hall clicked you both shot back from one another, Alastor wiping his hand down the front of his jacket as he walked backwards to his room, nodding a hello to Angel Dust as he stomped down the stairs. You said nothing, focusing on settling your heart rate, clutching one hand above your heart. And once again the two of you were alone, but the moment had passed. You gave him a small smile and said a quiet goodnight as you went into your room and closed the door, forcing yourself to not look back. Once the door was closed, you leaned against it, head propped against it as you looked up to the ceiling. What was happening to you?

Outside the door it sounded like Angel had returned, as a string of angry italian was being shouted in the hallways. There was a knock at your door. You opened it wide, expecting to see the tall spider demon. “Ang-“ suddenly there was a hand fisted into your hair, another wrapping around your waist, and Alastor had captured your mouth with his, enveloping you entirely.

The impact had your heart nearly explode with shock and your body surged with arousal immediately. The kiss was strong, desperate, and long. Seconds, moments, minutes -who cared. The two of you fought your lips against another, him inserting his long tongue into your mouth, gripping you tighter as he almost bent you in half, Alastor kissed you like a man possessed. You moaned into his mouth as he swallowed you whole. Your hands had come up to his collar to pull him in harder, and nothing but sucking and wet lips were heard for a moment. As quickly as it happened it ended, Alastor straightening out his jacket as he looked you over. You could imagine how tousled you looked. The overstimulation of the physical connection had the two of you breathing hard.

”Well, that certainly went a touch different than I expected,” Alastor started, licking his lips of the blood present. Had one of you bit a lip? Or bit the other's lip? Oh god, what the hell just happened. “My apologies for losing control of myself there dear, but usually a gentleman offers a lady a kiss goodnight after a night out.” He bowed to you again, his professional gentlemanly persona returned. You only nodded in agreement and he took his leave, giving a quick wave as he shut his door behind him.

Standing there for a few minutes easily you just couldn’t get over that your pussy was throbbing, and the sensation was not letting up. In fact, it felt like it was building up. Was he? Your eyes flew wide open as you slammed the door and jumped into bed, stripping your clothes off rapidly before laying under the covers and allowing the quick buildup of desire take over you. You were wet, soaked, and your hips were shifting in an attempt to add friction to the mix, but you were close enough just thinking about what the man across the hall was doing. Because of you. You finally placed your middle finger onto your clit and hissed at the contact. You were so hot with desire your hips bucked once pressure was applied. In return you could feel a second wave of buildup happening, and you moved your finger to match the pace. As you pinched one nipple to a hard nub and pulled at it you came, and you came hard. An animalistic groan escaped you as your orgasm took over, sending a shock through your system. Your body felt like it was burning from the inside out.

As your hand came to rest on the bed beside your hip, you found yourself staring up at the ceiling again. You had just had the most intense mutual masturbation orgasm with a demon. In the next room. On another level due to the blood magic the two of you were wrapped up in. You yawned, deciding it really didn’t matter at that very moment, you had eternity to focus on this strange path life had taken you on.

You bundled up in the blankets, body spent and mind exhausted, smiling as you drifted off to sleep.

____________

Remember, slow burn.

Also, I want to thank @hazelfoureyes for inspiring me to materialize my brainchild! Read her stuff, it’s honestly the best. Like, I’ve re-read it 6 times already the best. All of it.

@queermaxwooo @drawings-by-meh @sirens-and-moonflowers @looking1016 @mo-0-o @blakeaha @mutifandomkid @ministarheaven @nightingale0603 @loadedwafflefries @rizzscary @bishiglomper @vividachromatic @fluffy-koalala @mkaella @readergirlstuff @xalygatorx @midorichoco @alastorssimp @xalygatorx

#alastor #alastor smut #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel #alastor x ofc #alastorxreader #alastor x you #soulmates trope #hazbin #alastorxyou #slow burn #Alastorxofc #radio demon smut #radio demon #radio demon x reader #radio demon x you

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masterof-blabber · 2 days

Text

Dragons Rising S2P2 predictions because I can keep them to myself no longer 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

Ok this is going to be mostly Arin/Sora centric because HOOOO BOY do I sense trouble in the air for these two

First of all, Arin is DEFINITELY going to find out about Sora helping him out with the object spinjitzu thing and I think he’s going to be really really hurt. They spent so much time this season building up his feelings of insecurity and finding this out is going to bring them back in a HUGE way.

Another thing the writers spent a long time building up was Arin’s innate goodness/kindness/naivety. Call me crazy but I think he’s going to learn shatterspin in part 2 - the one thing that literally requires destroying the goodness in your soul. I don’t think he’ll use it much but I think he will learn it and be irreversibly changed

I can envision the lead-up to it so vividly and I think finding out what Sora did is going to be the tipping point. I think the rough timeline would go something like this:

Things are going well-ish. Arin’s confidence is restored and he’s back to training with a new enthusiasm. I don’t think he’ll master object spinjitzu at this point but he’ll be seeing more success and feeling better about himself

Something will happen - my guess some sort of pivotal battle where they’re relying on Arin’s object spinjitzu to save the day and it won’t work and Sora will have to come clean.

Arin - betrayed and insecure - lashes out towards Sora, and then towards Lloyd and the others when they try to comfort/calm him down. He says he needs some time to himself and runs off somewhere

While he’s alone, he’s approached by some force of evil (maybe Ras, or Ras’ master, or someone different entirely) and they use his insecurity to convince him that the ninja are holding him back - think like his conversation with Ras in part 1 - and because he’s feeling so awful about it he’ll agree to join them

Training under this new person, they’ll encourage him to work with all this insecurity and build up a ton of anger towards the ninja - especially Sora and Lloyd - and I think they’ll get him to use that to learn shatterspin

Also pretty sure Sora will learn spinjitzu & rising dragon in p2. Thematically this makes a lot of sense as Sora has been very intertwined with dragons since her introduction (she literally NAMED herself after one), and her element is all about creating new things and pushing the limits of what she can do.

Meanwhile Arin doesn’t have an element (as far as we’re aware, and I really hope it stays that way), and a parts his design speak to oni imagery - the horns especially. I don’t think it’s far-fetched so assume that under the right circumstances he may turn to destruction

Creation and Destruction never ever show up without each other in ninjago. They are completely linked and a recurring theme in the show and I think this will become WAY more evident as dragons rising progresses

Other small things:

Someone will find Jay, probably. (Hopefully!!!!) I’m hopeful for an angsty arc but in all honesty it seems like it’ll resolve quite quickly once they do find him. Tbh im happy either way I just miss my wife

Cole/Geo won’t become explicitly canon but they will continue being delightfully queercoded

I think Wyldfyre and Nya are both going to struggle without Kai,, he’s sort of been a father figure to both of them and knowing he’s stuck somewhere he might never escape from is gonna be really hard on them (esp for Nya who’s already sort of lost one of the most important people in her life)

More Wu info??? (Hoping for this! Hes present in at least one of the new sets (dragon stone shrine, linked below) so im hopeful we’ll find out what happened that silly old guy

PIXAL return???? (I’m begging on my hands and knees)

Arin Sora and Wyldfyre will meet Fritz and Spitz idk I just think that would be cute

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class1akids · 3 days

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Am iI the only one that doesn't like who shoto seems to constantly be put down?

Its always emphasizes how much stronger Toya is and how shoto can't compare its kinda frustrating and I know that this is from shotos pov but we're not gonna anyone else's pov when it comes to this stuff like mid war when shoto did get his moment it got taken away immediately by Toya copying shoto and then for the final fight despite endeavor not doing anything and the rest of the familys efforts not being anywhere near enough when shoto stopped the explosion the entire fam got the credit and then Toya got an ice quirk (which I hate so much it's like if shoto suddenly got blue flames out of the blue like no this is literally shotos thing) and the we are reminded again of how shoto can't compare

Toya is always victimized and while yes he is a victim the fact the he doesn't get the right to kill ppl is only said once and thats not enough compared to the amount of times it's pointed out that it's not his fault while shoto on the other hand isn't and it's rather frustrating it feels like he's always getting the short end of the stick

Really like the shoto and AM talk, it was really overdew (also makes it seem like what allmight said to shoto mid war less like pressure and more like encouragement which I'm sure is how it was intended)

I'm personally not too bothered by it:

The hero being an underdog is a pretty common trope. If you look at all the other major fights, the hero is always on the back foot. Shouto deciding to go up against Touya despite his brother's overwhelming firepower is brave and admirable and people point it out repeatedly how almost everyone underestimated Shouto.

The entire framework of the Todoroki family is Endeavor's fire. Everyone's value is always measured in relation to fire, (Ice user? Worthless. Hotter fire? Good.) without ever pausing for a moment to think what that hotter fire is for. This entire fire is fueled by resentment. Endeavor's resentment against All Might starts it, it spreads over to Touya and Touya's resentment of Endeavor fuels it to new peaks. Touya's blue fire represents the generational trauma and the negative emotions of the family.

Phosphor is the perfect endgame move for Shouto. It's narratively beautiful, it brings together everything Shouto has learned and it represents ultimately the power of healing - both Shouto's personal healing, him coming to terms with his fire, his past, but also the family coming together. Shouto's two-sided power, channeled through his heart is born after his mother and father finally meet again after a decade and the whole family comes together for Touya.

So Touya copying Phosphor to me is hopeful because Touya up until then never copied anyone but Endeavor. Taking Phosphor is a special connection with Shouto Touya never forged with anyone else. I don't think it's fully paid off yet, but I think it will.

Touya having ice also doesn't bother me. It's to be seen if Touya can use it like Shouto does, but the moment it came through was about Endeavor. It was for him to know before what he thought was his inevitable death that the son he threw away at 5 was a "masterpiece" too - in fact all his children are. I don't think that Touya having ice makes Shouto somehow less valuable - only if you accept Endeavor's rules and the children's value is decided by their quirk or power level. I'm fairly certain Shouto does not resent Touya having ice - he's more happy that his brother is still alive.

Horikoshi did delete in the volume version Shouto's quip about not being a masterpiece. We still don't know why - I suspect that Shouto and the Todoroki family will be back in Phase 3 of the fight, and maybe it will all make sense then. But the way I read that line was basically Shouto pointing out that Touya (and not Shouto) is the culmination of what Endeavor dreamt of as a heir when he started his genetic project. Someone who can take his fire technique to new heights. But what did it achieve? A burnt firstborn, a broken family, a bunch of civilians in grave danger. Endeavor's masterpiece is not a badge of honor - it's madness.

Shouto not becoming what Endeavor wanted is a good thing, and in line with his arc. He took his power in a new direction (the right way to put out a fire) and he's doing what he does for the right reasons, while also becoming a reassuring, authentic hero - which is what he wants to be. His power-level is absolutely amazing still - but that's not what the story is really about.

So let's see where it all ends. Like I said, I'm still waiting for the conclusion of the Todoroki family. Horikoshi has been "hiding" them since Shouto's Rising chapter; now that people are warping in, I'd be surprised not to see them (especially Shouto) pop up eventually. I also would not be surprised to see a power-up for Shouto, considering he's the only one who hasn't had one in the final arc, and absorbing Touya's nuke would be a good reason to give him one and also make the power-ups between the brothers go both ways. I think that was the idea with the "mingling" comment.

Finally, the family resolving its issues, they should now use that power instead of fighting each other to help the overall endgame goal.

#c1a asks #todoroki shouto #dabi #endeavor #todoroki touya

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yarameijer · 1 day

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Hey again! I just had this weird little idea for like a pre accidental reverse timeline story with Raimon except most of them are already in college (like the first years are still in their last year of highschool) and a new crazy threat appears (am I thinking of apocalypse? Maybe, but any threat will do) so like as the forever stuck captain (the role never stops even when most of the gang's in college and doesn't have much time for soccer anymore, but hey groupchats make friendships last), Tenma has to round em all up again but this time the college students are now equipped with new skills they learned from being in college and their own majors and-

I'm a little high with sugar right now i think so like just this au sounds so appealing to me for no reason.

On the otger hand- apocalypse au????? I wanna start on that myself ngl

Ooh, apocalypse AU. I'm gonna be honest here,,

I'm sorta working on one?

Super different from what you've described tho, but still. Apocalypse AUs are surprisingly fun sometimes. For me. Not so much for the characters! I think Tenma needs like four separate therapists to deal with all his issues.

ANYWAY lmao the whole setting of your idea is cracking me up. ''forever stuck captain'' is so real, Endou can confirm. They'll never get rid of the role.

Tenma being like AVENGERS ASSEMBLE, except it's SOCCER PLAYERS ASSEMBLE (summon the soccer players...?) and them just being terrifyingly and chaotically effective... I can see that happening. Very much so.

This actually sort of reminds me of this idea, a sort of AU of Accidental Reverse, in which the whole of Raimon is sent back to the past? The entire team. And they just. take the world by storm. The reason Fifth Sector doesn't go down within a week is because Raimon decides to have some fun first. They,, may sort of,, take over the Japanese economy (Shindou's fault) and the soccer world because they're ''fighting fire with fire''. AKA they COULD stage another revolution through the means of soccer and show everyone what real soccer is, OR they could fight Fifth Sector for their influence and power OR infiltrate them from within and take over the whole thing (in secret, of course. Endou might suspect. Endou will take it to his grave.) because that's more fun.

I haven't decided yet if Tenma would actually be sent back in this one too, because on one hand, we want the whole team together and happy and a force of nature, but on the other it seems very funny to have the entire team doting on baby Tenma because ''he's so small!! He's so sweet!!!! Must protect!!!'' Like Shindou casually drafting a message that will wipe out a massive branch of Fifth Sector on his phone while taking Tenma out for ice cream. Like, yes.

Whoops, I got a bit off track there lmao. Back to the original idea - I can actually see Endou doing something similar? Getting pretty much anyone who's anyone in the soccer world together with just a few messages, for whatever reasons. And since it's been ten years... questionable skills, anyone?

I get why sugar-high-you got stuck on this idea, the more you think of it, the more potential it seems to get :D

#inazuma eleven #inazuma eleven go #ie11 #ina11 #ie go #raimon

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dailydragon08 · 2 days

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hi! if it's ok I'd love to request a scenario for the star wars gang please :) I'd love to see how they all react to a genderfluid s/o (if you have any questions plz dm me :D)

thank you!

Thanks so much for the ask! Sorry this took so long, I was on a bit of a semi-hiatus, but am back now and working on the other asks in my box! Also, thank you to @kaleidoscope1967eyes for some of the suggestions in here!

I think everyone would kind of be in the realm of similar reactions here, but with a few small differences. Everyone is very accepting about you being gender fluid and doesn’t make a huge deal of it, but are very protective of you in different ways. Eventually, they all get a knack for being able to tell whether you’re leaning more masc, fem, or somewhere in between for the day just by your clothes and hairstyle and will adjust pronouns accordingly if necessary.

Growing up as royalty and a major player in both the imperial senate and the New Republic, Leia is always on top of the latest fashions (which I wish they explored more in other media, but I digress). I think she’d be so interested in helping you adapt different clothing and hairstyles to how you were feeling that particular day and loves finding an outfit that either matches or sort of rhymes what you’re wearing to any events—or even just day-to-day wear. Being royalty and a politician, she’s traveled a lot, so this isn’t a new concept to her at all, and she thanks you for telling her with a warm smile and shoulder squeeze before getting down to business for the day. She’s very adamant that you not only have all the gender-affirming things you need day to day, but also that your preferred pronouns are written correctly in all official documents.

And if someone tries to misgender you or discriminate against you in any way whatsoever, Leia will give them the biggest dressing down of their life – no matter the time, place, or audience – and make sure they know to never pull anything like that ever again. By the time she’s done, they’re standing there like a chastised, guilty toddler as they apologize to you. If she had to, Leia would glare down and lecture the entire senate until they not only got it right, but didn’t even think about forgetting or getting it wrong ever again.

Luke is very accepting and wants you to feel safe and welcome with him above all else. He would make sure to give you a soft smile and thank you for telling him before opening up a discussion to make sure he was doing everything he could to support you and learn how he could improve. He does research on his own as well and if you’re also Force-sensitive, he will get you as many custom-made Jedi robes as you want so you have options for whatever you’re feeling day to day. He checks in with you frequently, both verbally and through the Force, to make sure you’re feeling okay and check if you’re using different pronouns from the day before. If you’re comfortable, he starts doing a daily check in via telepathic connection each morning so that even if you don’t have time to talk or are several rooms away, he’s still well informed.

The way he defends you differs a bit from his sister. If someone misgenders you or makes any sort of unnecessary comment, he’ll immediately interrupt and correct them. His face and tone stay as calm and serene as ever thanks to his Jedi training, but you can feel the irritation flowing off of him if it’s anything more than an innocent mistake. If this person continues with their behavior, he’ll correct them again and ask them to be respectful and make it clear in no uncertain terms that he sees any disrespect to you as disrespect to him and that the two of you will be walking away until they can conduct themselves better. Afterwards, he’s checking in on you and apologizing for the experience so gently and doing whatever it takes to make you feel better.

Han being Han of course makes some harmless, playful remark the first time your style drastically changes in front of him. But once you explain you’re gender fluid, he takes it in stride with a “good to know; so what are we doing for lunch?” He tends to be more observant than people give him credit for – especially with those he cares about – and although he gets good at knowing what you’re feeling that day with a glance, still decides to make a “Gender of the Day” game. Traveling around on the Falcon with him puts you in constant proximity and you find yourself stealing his shirts and jackets quite often on more masc-leaning days (which never hesitates to pull a cocky compliment or pickup line from him).

Anyone who dares to make a snide comment gets Captain Solo in full force, with a low “listen here, pal” as he leans across the table and makes sure they know if it happens again, they’ll not only have an angry sharpshooter on their hands, but also a pissed off Wookiee.

To follow up, Chewie (platonic) also is immediately accepting and although you can’t understand his language, you overhear Han keeping him up to date with your pronouns every day. Eventually, you learn from C-3PO’s translation that Chewie goes out of his way to ask someone in the OT gang every morning (and sometimes directly comes to you with the protocol droid’s help) just to make sure he’s got it right. He’s more than happy to help Han defend you as well and even when it’s just the two of you, he gives an ominous growl as he stands up to his full seven feet if anyone gives you trouble.

Similar to Leia, Lando is also well-traveled and an avid lover of fashion. This isn’t a new concept to him at all and in fact, when the two of you meet, he’s already asking what your preferred pronouns are. Like the princess, he’s also always elated to help you adapt your fashion choices and has many things custom-made for you – you can hardly say you like something or wish an aspect of a piece of clothing was a little different before he’s already buying it or having his tailors work on it. He even gifts you some articles of clothing that are a two (or even three!) in one via folding a flap a certain way, zipping something, etc. so that one shirt or pair of pants can double as either more masc, fem, or in between.

He's extremely protective of you, no matter who is giving you problems, and will always insert himself between you and the perpetrator with a hey before correcting them in a tone that leaves no room for argument. Especially with his higher rank in the rebellion, he can easily have someone removed from the room if needed and if Chewie’s nearby, employs the Wookiee’s help as well.

R2-D2 (platonic) chirps and beeps while wobbling on his outer legs to let you know he understands and is more than happy to support you. Although you can’t typically understand his noises, he still will sneakily change code in official documents or computer systems to reflect correct pronouns and if someone’s giving you a hard time, he’ll use one of his little retractable arms to give them a little shock.

C-3PO (platonic) of course is aware of gender fluidity, but has never met someone like you – at least, not that he remembers before his memory was wiped. Ever since then, he’s been glued either to Leia or Luke’s side, so hasn’t had a chance to experience much outside of the chaotic workload the rebellion usually requires. But he’s so interested and excited to ask you questions if you’ll allow, but also makes sure to educate himself on his own. You have to hold back your laughter sometimes when he excitedly comes to you about some new piece of information he found as if you didn’t know it yourself – but of course, halfway through his excited ramble, he remembers who he’s talking to and goes “oh, I’m so terribly sorry” before offering to help you in any way he can, always interrupting and correcting people when needed, and if they don’t back down, telling them point blank “well, I think you’re rather rude.”

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