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lurochar · 2 months

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Before It All (Pt. 2)

Warnings: Obsessive Alastor. References to racism, sexism, and racist terms

Part 1 + Part 3

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Hell.

So it actually did exist.

The pure elation, raw euphoria, and sheer mania completely overwhelmed Alastor when it finally did sink into him that, yes, he was dead – savagely mauled by a pack of hunting dogs and then shot in the head by an utterly incompetent hunter.

Pathetic.

But Hell, it was real, absolutely truly one hundred percent a reality he was now living and he couldn’t be any more ecstatic that was the case.

(He certainly had a first class ticket).

Because if Hell was real, that meant demons were real and if demons were real…

You were real. You existed.

Alastor had never been a religious person before his encounter with you. He hadn’t really changed his mind afterwards either. God had never done anything for him, so why should he ever bother to devote himself to a being who clearly didn’t give a fuck about him or his Mama?

A demon cared more about him, if only briefly, than Heaven ever did in his lifetime.

You probably had no idea what impact you had on him, you may not even think of him, or even remember him, the kid whose soul you had spared on some sort of whim born from pity.

Alastor obsessed over you.

He had felt cold the moment you had pulled away from him and that chill had never left him – only his Mama’s hugs could temporarily relieve him of the complete indifference he possessed for the world around him.

Ah, his dear Mama.

He never understood it, he still didn’t understand now.

That day, that night was a blessing in his eyes. He had met, if only for a few minutes, the only other person(?), being, other than his Mama, that had actually cared, held any concern for his well being. You had even gone against your demonic instincts and let him keep his soul, just so you didn’t condemn him to Hell.

(He condemned himself, but those were his choices alone).

You had killed a human being for him.

His father was a monster – so why did his dear Mama cry and grieve over the man who had abused them both horribly over the years? Why wasn’t she happy that he was finally gone? She no longer had to endure being hit, slapped, or even worse because of that man’s unpredictable mood-swings.

She could never properly explain it and honestly, Alastor didn’t want to understand that mindset of hers.

Because of you, his Mama could be free of the misery his father put her through. Alastor could take care of her on his own, just as you told him to do.

Because of you, he was free from hearing his father’s muttered insults about his skin – how he might've passed as ‘right’ if his skin was a little lighter.

Those cruel remarks grew more and more frequent and so did the homicidal thoughts Alastor harboured for his father.

If not for the book he found containing old magicks, strange symbols and sigils, and a ritual for summoning demons, Alastor was sure he would have snapped sooner rather than later and would have ended up strangling that drunk waste of life in his sleep.

He would have been caught, no doubt, and put to death. Lynched even.

Who would take care of his Mama then?

But because you had killed his wretch of a father for him, he had been free to grow and pursue his passion for radio. Hunting had become something of a secondary hobby, it was the only thing his father had done him good by – even if the man had only taught him how to track and hunt small game, claiming he wasn’t nearly ‘good enough’ for bigger game.

Well, he could always teach himself.

Alastor had never really preferred any particular type of meat before, always happy to eat whatever his Mama put before him, but when he remembered the tingle on his fingertips, the feel of your soft ears…

He remembered he used a deer skull he found in the forest in the ritual he used to summon you.

Deer.

He probably has eaten venison before, but he honestly could not remember what it tasted like since he just didn’t have a preference then.

He wanted, needed, to learn every detail about that animal.

Alastor really did find the taste of venison to be the most satisfying over any other meat he stripped from the game he hunted. Deer quickly became his favoured target.

He never shot at a doe.

His life was looking rather bright – his career in radio was taking off, he had learned to blend in better, socialize by watching people, and he was frighteningly good at it. He was charming, despite the prejudices and racism, his skin tone and creole heritage didn’t seem to matter much anymore with how successful he was, men and women were clamouring for him in different ways.

It was entertaining to watch.

Still, his homicidal thoughts never left his mind.

Abuse of women by men who were just like his father was rampant and it angered Alastor more than he imagined it would. Only this time, there would be no you to correct things, you were just a lucky break for him.

(And only him. He wouldn’t share you even if he could summon you again).

He’s perfected his hunting skills over the years and hunting humans wasn’t much different, it just took a little longer and a little more patience to assure he wouldn’t be caught.

If there is a Hell, Alastor will burn.

But he doesn’t mind so much, not if he can burn alongside you.

~00~

Is it ironic?

That he is a deer demon too?

From what he has gathered, one’s appearance changes depending on what happened in their human lifetime and how they lived it. Some Sinners have very mundane changes due to mundane sins and deaths.

A traumatic death has a large impact on the soul and being mistaken for a deer and shot dead can certainly be counted as traumatic and impactful.

Alastor is just relieved enough he doesn’t spawn as a dog demon.

Would you be happy he’s a deer like you?

Alastor has to wonder if you would even recognize him, his appearance is quite different from his human one and it has been over twenty years since your encounter.

If there was one thing he regretted about summoning you, it was that he never asked for your name. He had been much too blinded by his rage for his father and his fascination for your ears to even think to ask and he always lamented about it.

Nothing would get done regretting the past, however.

He needed to figure out his new body and the structuring of Hell and how it works before he can even begin to think of looking for you.

He needs to amass power.

Hell, with no doubt, is a dangerous place with powerful demons lurking about. Besides the pure thrill of eliminating those very demons by his own hand, Alastor will assure your safety as long as you stay at his side.

He can pay you back for what you did for him, he can be your saviour this time around, whether you needed one or not.

It’s time to get to work.

~00~

“Another one?”

The man before you shivers at the sound of your voice before giving a shaky nod, looking every which way but you, clearly wanting to leave your presence as quickly as possible.

You couldn’t blame him.

He deserved every second of torment upon his miserable soul.

“I would like for you to go and take a look at this demon toppling Overlords like they’re nothing more than a child’s plaything. You can come back when you have an adequate description of this demon.” You flippantly waved him off.

“Are you fucking kiddin’ me, you little bitch?” The man cursed, his previous meek behaviour gone at the thought of having to go and put himself in danger just so he could get a damn glimpse of whoever this new demon was. There was no fucking way he was doing tha–

A collar materialized around the man’s throat and he lost his footing and his face was smashed into the ground when you abruptly tugged on the chain that materialized at the same time the collar did.

“Did you forget something important?” You stared down at the man in disgust. “If so, let me remind you now. I own you. I own your soul. If I want you to do something, you do it without question. Do you understand, Hartfelt?”

The man, Hartfelt, simply could not keep his mouth shut. “You murdered me in cold blood, you fucking slut! And now you think you can order me around like some dog because you have my soul too? Killing me wasn’t good enough for you? Go back to the kitchen where you belong. Goddamn whore.”

“You made a deal with me. It doesn’t matter if you were newly spawned in Hell and didn’t know how it worked – a deal is a deal. I only took your filthy soul for one thing, otherwise I wouldn’t have touched it with a ten foot pole.” You huffed. “And yes, I can order you around like a dog. It fits your appearance, doesn’t it?”

Hartfelt stood up when you allowed him to, growling like the mutt he appeared to be. “What was that one thing?” He asked, cursing in his mind. If not for that ‘one thing’, he wouldn’t have been under this damn deer bitch’s control for the past twenty plus years.

It's laughable that he has to take orders from a woman.

“I gave your son a pass then, but I saw it in his eyes. I hope I’m wrong, but I do believe Alastor will end up in Hell.” You sighed, glancing over to see pure terror flash across Harfelt’s face. “Figured it out now?”

“You kept me on a chain just so you could give me to that shitskinned boy!?” Hartfelt attempted to lunge forward to unleash his fury on you, but you wouldn’t have it.

You speared your claws into his muzzle and he howled in pain. “Say something like that again about Alastor–no, I’m already tired of your voice. You don’t need that foul tongue to see what this new demon looks like, so I’ll be taking it. I’m sure it will grow back soon enough… if I allow it to.”

No one batted an eye when screams of pain were heard from an apartment before they abruptly stopped.

Hartfelt stood on shaky legs, blood dripping everywhere from his mouth and you didn’t even glance at him. “You know what to do.” You said coldly, waving him off once more and he went without complaint this time around.

Not that he could if he wanted to.

~00~

The Radio Demon.

It wasn’t exactly an original name, but it fit him to a tee, whomever he really was. Hartfelt could never get close enough to get a good look at the Radio Demon and could only give a vague description of the male.

Red. Lots of red. Tall ears maybe? Or a part of his hair, Hartfelt couldn’t be sure. Big, creepy smile with yellowed fangs, and he always carried some sort of cane. His voice was filtered like he was talking on air through a radio.

It was expected, Hartfelt did a crappy job.

It would have to suffice for now, you would rather save Hartfelt for Alastor rather than hearing him scream on the Radio Demon’s broadcasts.

In any other circumstance, that would have been preferred.

You just needed to pay careful attention, it's how you survived Hell unscathed as a prey-based demon thus far.

The Radio Demon’s rampage was coming far too close to the district you lived in for your comfort and you have no idea if the Overlord in charge would be able to hold on to his power or not.

You had to be prepared for any scenario.

Beyond his insane broadcasting of the screaming souls of the Overlords he had conquered, the Radio Demon was almost pleasant to listen to. His voice was definitely made for radio and his taste in music was exceptional (well, considering you had been dead for some number of years, you had no idea how music evolved in the human world).

“This next song is dedicated to the one I hold dearest to me. I have yet to locate you, my nameless Doe, but I do hope you are listening to this.”

Your ears twitched and you opened your eyes in surprise. It was a bit of a shock to hear that the Radio Demon, of all demons, had a lost lover out here in Hell. You had thought he was a sadist through and through.

You supposed some sadists could love too.

(You did hear rumours that Overlords Zestial and Carmilla Carmine were… something, so much was possible in Hell).

“It has been twenty-four years since our last encounter, brief as it may have been. You have been on my mind ever since. If you truly are listening, my nameless Doe, then know the Radio Demon is Alastor Hartfelt.”

You fell off your couch.

No.

No way.

The Radio Demon and Alastor Hartfelt were one and the same?!

“H-he died?” You said out loud to yourself and to no one. ‘It's only been twenty-four years. He… he didn't even make it to forty years!’

What happened!?

Your ears flattened against your head, not sure what to think of this situation.

He held you dearest to him?

You've been on his mind ever since?

Your encounter was brief, barely even five minutes long and somehow, Alastor thought the world of you?

That kid twenty some years back definitely had a screw or two loose and you think you just made the problem worse.

You should not have let him touch you.

You should not have hugged him.

He was an adolescent boy probably starving for positive attention and a soft touch outside his mother and you unwittingly fucked up what normal development he should have gone through.

Well, you couldn't undo the past, but you could try to make up for it by giving Alastor complete control over the man who once controlled him.

You supposed it could be a start.

~00~

He hoped.

But he really expected nothing.

Alastor was rapidly gaining territory, toppling numerous Overlords with his newfound powers within just a year.

Along with wailing souls, Alastor always sent that little message out on his broadcasts, hoping you would hear and respond to him by showing up to the radio tower he built.

But the amount of power he had grown into wasn't enough yet, he could only hijack a portion of Hell’s radio waves at a time, not the entirety of it like he needed to.

You may not have even heard his message.

How irksome.

These were the times he actually craved Mimzy’s company and the atmosphere of her speakeasy.

Mimzy would just keep the whisky flowing until he was intoxicated enough to allow a couple select women a few touches here and there, barely even considered lewd by any means.

Getting drunk was the only way he could handle those touches without flinching or feeling a deep need to shatter the other person's hand – an unfortunate side effect of his father's beatings.

Your touch was the only one he longed for.

It only happened a few times, Alastor stopped as soon as Mimzy casually pointed out that he had a clear type, that the few women he chose all had similar traits.

The same hair colour and length, the same eye colour, and the same height.

All features you possessed.

Back then, the last thing Alastor had wanted was to end up drunk in some random woman's bed calling out for you, ‘my Doe’. Rumours of that nature just wouldn’t be good for his image and career.

And really, saying that whilst in bed with another was just plain weird.

Alastor would have to find a decent bar here in Hell, he could use a drink to take the edge off.

A chirp catches his attention.

His shadow, a magick he has just recently begun to delve deep into, chitters at him and Alastor raises a brow and tilts his head, his smile remaining in place despite his bewilderment.

A guest?

A guest at his radio tower?

Could it possibl–?

Hope, but expect disappointment.

~00~

You're nervous.

(Why?)

You just want to turn around and run.

(Why?)

The Radio Demon and Alastor Hartfelt may be one and the same, but the Alastor you met was just barely on the cusp of manhood, someone so trapped by his shitty situation that he was desperate enough to summon a demon of all things to get him out of it.

He was extremely lucky he had gotten you, very few demons, if any, would have let him keep his soul.

You didn't know Alastor anymore. He was the Radio Demon now, a being quickly becoming infamous and feared for his ruthlessness.

If this was a trick to lure you here, you just hope Alastor has it in him to spare you like you did him.

You tense and your ears and tail stand straight up when you can feel and hear static before he speaks.

“How I've missed your wonderful ears, my nameless Doe.”

What a peculiar greeting.

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Sorry, thought it would be fun to end it here. Part 3 soon.

Tags: @alishii @yourdoorisunlocked @godsent69 @eris-norwega @catticora @tayraedoll @michi-keinz @martinys-world

#alastor x reader #x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel

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quimichi · 11 months

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do you still do twisted wonderland requests? if so can i request self aware dorm leaders being called "good boy"??

『 ↳✧･ﾟ CALLING THE DORM LEADERS YOUR GOOD BOY ;

Dorm Leaders x Creator!Reader

Riddle - Off with your head!

"Do you enjoy your tea?"

"Mm. The tea is most delicious, Yuu. " Riddle speaks with the utmost sincerity, his words sweet and grateful. Even though his tea cup has long been empty since he finished it, he holds it in his hand, his gaze fixed on it lovingly. He looks up at you, his head still bowed in worship, adoration. He smiles, his eyes warm and bright, all of his adoration and fondness directed towards you.

"Im glad my good boy likes his tea" you smile warmly at him before sipping at your own tea again. Riddle's smile widens, and he bows his head further.

Your good boy.

He looks up at you, his worship and fondness directed towards you, and he speaks, his voice soft and low.

"Thank you, Yuu. I adore you, you know?"

"I adore you, Riddle" his face flushes as he sits before you. He bows his head and lowers his gaze like he always does at your touch, but, with his skin now slightly red, he smiles softly to himself.

He shifts slightly. This feels so safe here.

"As long as you adore me, Your Grace… I am complete." At least one person treats him right in his life, unlike HIS MOTHER.

Leona - The king, huh…?

"Enjyoing your nap?" "Huh?" Leona glances around. He was indeed enjoying a peaceful nap before the sudden voice. Leona is often sleeping when you see him, but that is partly because he spends most of his time in your room. He sleeps there more than anywhere else.

He stretches, his limbs feeling heavy as he wakes up. He yawns, and nods his head as he responds. "Oh, yes. I was." "Did my good boy at least sleep well?"

"Yes," he says immediately, a flush spreading over his cheeks. He hates how much emotional control you had gained over him in the past month's. And damn you for calling him that…"I did."

He is embarrassed to admit that his night had been pleasant and pleasant dreams had come to visit him while he slept. His dreams are often full of your voice, your face, and sometimes even your touch.

These thoughts send his heart into overdrive in an instant. Fuck you for making him falling for you. You damn herbivore.

He is utterly enraptured by you. There's a strange glint in his eyes, an intensity that burns deep into his soul. Need, greed, want.

"Hm," he nods slowly, the only word he can manage before turning around in your bed and going back to sleep.

Azul - How poor and unfortunate you are

Azul's eyes flicker with uncertainty, but he would never hesitate to obey your instructions. Come closer to you…its simple, yet so hard. "Yes," he whispers, and he rises to come to you. His feet are swift and silent as he crosses the space separating you, his eyes ever vigilant for your every command.

"Sit with me" you said gentle. Despite whatever doubts Azul may have had moments before, they are quickly forgotten as soon as you command him to sit. Without another word, he lowers himself to sit beside you in obedience. His lips curve into a small smile as he gazes at you, happy to be near you.

Luckily Jade and Floyd aren't around, if they would, he already would've been teased into the ground.

"Youre my good boy aren't you Azul~?" with your hand on his cheek, your hot breath on his ear, who is he to say disagree. Once again, Azul flinches at your approval, but he can't disagree. "Of course, Yuu" he answers in a soft voice.

He smiles at you, and you can almost swear he's a child in his demeanor. He is utterly and completely devoted to you. Your approval is like the sun in the sky to him.

"I'm your good boy."

Kalim - Sing, dance!

"You seem tired" your soft voice lurrs him to you, he wants nothing more to lay in your arms now. "Yes," Kalim mumbles before trailing off. He blinks as if the idea hadn't occurred to him before. That party maybe was…a little to much

Yet, the moment the thought comes to him, it is the only feeling that consumes him; he is consumed with the weariness of his day.

Kalim's eyelids close, as if he has only now realized that he should have been sleeping this whole time, and he leans forward to rest his head on your lap.

"I… wish to sleep," he whispers, "with you…"

"My good boy can finally sleep now" At your command, kalims's eyes flutter closed, and he allows himself to settle into a much-needed sleep.

The only sound he emits from that point onward is a low, contented hum as he falls into the deep, peaceful slumber that you have granted him. After all his favorite pillows will always be your thighs. You wouldnt mind sitting there all night just for him to rest comfortably, although Jamil would lecture you both the next morning.

But Kalim couldn't care less, as he falls asleep with the lovliest words ever said to him echoing in his mind, good boy

Vil - Every rose has its thorn. But isn't that part of their charm?

"Rough day?" Of course he had a rough day, once again Neige seems to be better fkmor everyine else again. He didn't get the model job he so long waited for "Yes," Vil replies, gracefully dropping in front of his mirror. There is a tension to his tone, as if there is something he wants to say but cannot bring himself to admit. He looks up at you, his gaze sharp and piercing as if trying to gauge some kind of mood.

He gently removes his make up before he speaks again "I cannot… I mean…"

"I," Vil tries again. He bites his lip, and his gaze flicks back to his thighs. His fists are clenched, and he fights back the urge to punch something, anything, to let out the frustration.

His voice is barely above a whisper, but you can hear him. If only he could articulate what needs to be said. If only he did not choke on his words, as if something is caught in his throat.

"How long," he rasps, "until I'm worthy enough for everyone?"

You careful went over to him and hug his back while looking into his eyes trough the morror, "My good boy, youre more than enough for me.." Vil sighs, the sound of release escaping his lips. He can feel his chest loosen along with the tension that he'd been holding onto, and the anxiety that had been building up seems to melt away with the hug.

Nobody in this world is as perfect as you.

Idia - Dun-da-da-da-dun! Level up!

"Are you busy right now?" Idias eyes flick up from the computer screen, startled as he hears your voice. He doesn't dare to speak unless he is spoken to, he feels like if he'd start the conversation instead odf you it'll turn out horrible.

His expression is one filled with worry; worried that you find him inadequate, worried that he'll fail you. The weight of all his worries is starting to become too much for him to handle, and it shows on his face. "I uhm…was just fighting the last boss on this quest"

"Would you mind if i watch?" Idia looks up at you, eyes wide.

He can barely breathe, such is his joy at the possibility of spending time with you. He nods, a soft smile breaking out on his face. He seems so different than the introverted person everyone knows him — he's softer, happier, and more at ease now that he's with you. "Whoa, my good boy is so goof at this" you mumbled to yourself, but you also made sure he heard you. He deserves the praise after all

Idia's eyes fill with shook, but they spark with joy when you praise him. His smile only broadens, to outstanders it may look, manic.

The way you're soft voice was calling him that had his heart pounding for you for eternity.

Malleus - You aren't afraid of me. But I'm starting to become afraid…of losing you.

"Did you enjoy this walk?" "M-Yes, indeed…" Malleus mumbles, his body nearly melting at your touch of your hands touching. The soft sound of his voice is almost enough to make you forget that you've already reached Ramshackle. For a moment, he seems almost… bashful. When he speaks, he glances down at you with soft, adoring eyes.

It takes you a moment to realize that his cheeks are still flushed pink- it's rare to see such a reaction from Malleus. In fact, you've never seen him look quite so… flustered.

"Im glad my good boy enjoyed himself"

"You… you think I'm your good boy?" Malleus murmurs softly, staring down at you from beneath his eyelashes. His voice is almost a purr in its softness. "You want… you want me to stay with you forever?"

Malleus is trembling in your hold, but it has nothing to do with his anger or anything, its excitement. He cannot muster the energy or strength to do anything but stare down at you, breath hitching. Your question has turned his thoughts to mush. His mind is elsewhere entirely-- but with you nearby, he isn't opposed to staying as close as he can.

"Marry me…" he breathes.

"Wha-"

#twisted wonderland x reader #self aware twst #Self aware twisted wonderland #riddle x reader #leona x reader #malleus x yuu #vil x reader #azul x jamil #kalim x reader #idia x reader

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drabblesbyjubs · 1 year

Text

Just Need Time

Astarion x gn! Tav Reader, Astarion is pent up but also wants to please the reader, he makes himself want to have sex with reader but reader stops him and helps him figure out what he really wants. Fluff, smut, a little bit of angst. Minors DNI

Tws// mentions of sexual trauma, Astarion’s backstory stuff, mild disassociation for a few minutes, trauma, mild spoilers for non ascended Astarion’s ending, sexual content and smut

I want everyone to know that I got stuck working an 8 hour shift as a cashier on my last day of work so I wrote this between customers, enjoy and here’s to my new job

Time with Astarion is sacred.

After nearly losing him multiple times throughout your journey to rid yourselves of the mind flayer parasite, you’d come to appreciate every second you spent with him. Every moment during the day, snuggling and spending time with one another, and spending the nights running through Faerûn and enjoying the adrenaline of exploration, it was all beyond precious to you both.

But especially to Astarion. For the first time in two centuries, he belonged to himself; he could go where he wanted, do what he wanted, be what he wanted. He was free.

That didn’t mean he was alright, though.

Being with you had helped. You’d shown him freedom, devotion, and everything he’d ever wished he could have had in a partner. But part of his mind was still stuck in that dark, dank crypt, the smell of mildew festering in his lungs, the fear at the sound of every footstep lurking in his heart. The nights he was let out, but not to be free, only to use his body to gain some innocent soul’s trust and bring them back for him to take out his most wretched fantasies on.

Astarion was usually the victim of these fantasies, but if Cazador truly did what he wished with Astarion, well, there would be no more Astarion to take out those fantasies on.

Those memories plagued his mind nearly every night. He often woke from the nightmares feeling utterly emotionless, numb to the world. Fear aches low in his heart, and he would roll over and scoot up to you. You took him in to your arms with no question; you already knew.

Sometimes he would jolt out of bed, too enveloped by the memories to realize it was you next to him. He would become defensive, either scared of you or insisting you leave before he came back. When he snapped back to reality, he was utterly humiliated, but you never shamed him, always made him feel like everything would be okay, and he would forget about the terrors of the night before by the time you two set out for adventure after sunset.

He wanted more than anything to be like a normal person; completely comfortable in his relationship, never a fear that things would go awry, blindly trusting and accepting of everything you did. You understood why he couldn’t be like that, and did your best to make him feel as close to normal as he ever could. And gods, did he love you for that. You were utterly hypnotizing, he would tear out his heart with a stake if you asked him; hell, he would carve the stake himself. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for you.

And even if you assured him he owed you nothing at all, not even a passing glance, he wanted to give you something to make you happy.

He often gave you wildflowers, knowing you always liked the bright colors and soft petals, or smooth, shiny rocks he found down by the creek, or little rings and necklaces he bought with his dwindling gold supply when the two of you went in to town. But he still often felt like the only thing he could do right enough to truly make others happy was sex.

It was practiced, it was routine. Use his body to make someone feel good, make a few pretty faces, and it was done. There was something safe in the familiarity of it, though the sheer gut wrenching disgust that followed after never sit right with him.

You hadn’t hesitated to agree when Astarion had asked if you two could stop having sex for a while. Your sexual activity had dwindled anyways; you’d often told him you were just tired, or wanted to make sure you had plenty of energy for the coming day. Part of him knew you could tell he didn’t really want it, but he chose to believe you just wanted a break, and it was relieving to not have to perform. It was a weight off of his shoulders.

But more recently, he’d been pent up. He found himself craving release; of course he thought of coming to you for help, but the thought of having to perform, to make you feel good and owe you that pleasure after he takes his own, it sent a writhing sensation under his skin. As much as he liked the thought of seeing your eyes filled with arousal, he didn’t want that feeling of perform. Continue. No choice. Earn your life, bring him someone.

But he wanted to make you happy. He had done this so many times before; why not once more, just to see you satisfied? You must be pent up as well after so long of dealing with his unwillingness to give you something so simple. It was the least he could do. He would achieve the release he’d began to crave, you would be happy, and he would know you would stay with him and know he cared for you.

Astarion rolled above you, that mischievous smirk on his face as he looked down at you. You laughed softly, rolling your eyes. “Someone’s in a playful mood tonight,” you teased, to which Astarion hummed.

“Whoever could that be?” He muttered, leaning down and capturing you in a kiss. You felt his tongue swipe across your lower lip, but before you could grant him entrance, he pulled away, before moving to mouth softly at your neck. You hummed, your chest fluttering as you inhaled. You could feel his lips move against you, his tongue swiping over the scars of old bites, his canines brush dangerously over the delicate skin of your neck.

You put your hands on his chest and muttered, “Mmh, Astarion, what’s going on?”

“Hmm?” He hummed in a questioning tone.

“You don’t normally act like this,” you breathed. “Is everything okay?”

“So sweet for asking,” he murmured. “Just pent up. I want you, if you’ll have me.”

You scanned over his face; nothing seemed off. He seemed genuine. You weren’t sure why he was offering though; this wasn’t like him. Maybe he was actually just pent up?

“You promise you’ll tell me to stop if it’s too much?”

“Of course, love,” he breathed against your neck, softly nipping at the skin there, threatening to break skin.

You nod, hands running up his sides. “Okay. As long as you promise.”

Astarion gave a pleased sound, his hands snaking under your shirt. Calloused fingertips brushed against your skin, before pulling your shirt up above your head and leaning down to kiss at your shoulders, mouth at your collarbones, and nip at your chest.

You gave a shaky sigh, your hand running over his back, savoring the way he arched against the touch. He was good at this, no doubt, but it always hurt you to think of *why.*

Astarion leaned back, staring down at you almost hungrily. He pulled his own shirt over his head, and you leaned up to run your hands over his chest and his stomach, before leaning in to kiss at the little dimple between his collarbones. He was always finicky about kissing his neck, especially on the side Cazador bit him on, and you didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable, so you stuck to his shoulders and chest for now.

His hands found your waist, and as you pulled away from him, you saw the slightest flicker of hesitation in his eyes before he pushed you down to the bedroll and pulled your hips up against his, softly grinding against the curve of your ass.

You weren’t worried about that, though; you saw the way his eyes had slowly grown foggy and distant, the loss of expression, and the way his touches became almost rhythmic, nearly robotic; practiced and routine.

“Stop,” you said.

Astarion snapped out of it in an instant, present here and now once more. “Are you alright? Did I do something wrong?”

“Hun,” you leaned up, scooting your hips apart from his and gently cupping his cheek. “You don’t want this. I can see it in your eyes.”

“I do!” Astarion insisted, “Gods, I want this, please, I’m sorry, just let me-“ he hurriedly began grabbing at your hips, trying to pull you closer,

“Darling, stop.” You said, more assertively this time. His shoulders slumped and the look in his eyes broke your heart; he looked desperate, but not for sex. He looked so disappointed in himself.

“Come here,” you whispered, pulling him in for a hug. “Do you remember when I told you you don’t owe me anything?” He didn’t hug you back, but his forehead rested against your shoulder, and he gave a brisk little nod.

“But I do want it,” he said. “I just… I don’t want to have to give back, or be touched, or just… I don’t know, but I want something, and I-“

You hushed him, sensing his growing stress, running your fingers through his hair. You turned to kiss his temple, and he gave a happy little sound.

“I think I get it. You want to keep your control of your body, but don’t want to have to feel like you owe me pleasure either?” You questioned. He gave a brisk little nod.

“That’s alright. Astarion, we don’t have to do anything like this, I never want your to feel pressured, and-“

“But I do want… something like this.” He rebutted. “I just… want a little. I don’t know. I really am pent up. I’ve tried handling it myself, time and time again… I’ll sneak off into the woods and… and try and rid myself of these desires. But it… just… never works. I cant… I just cant. Not alone.”

You furrowed your brow, feeling just how embarrassed he was with the way he shuffled and squirmed against you, clutching at your sides.

“You mean… you can’t touch yourself, or..?”

“I can’t finish,” he corrected, his words rushed and jumbled.

“Oh,” you said. You kept running your fingers through his hair, taking a moment to think. You could tell how much this embarrassed him, just by how he was acting. “That’s alright, Astarion. What do you want me to do to help?”

“I… don’t know,” he breathed. “I just… I’m frustrated, i need something..”

“Would it be too much for me to touch you like that right now?” You asked him.

He nodded his head, and you pulled back, looking at him as you gently cupped his cheek in your hand. “Use your words, baby boy.”

Red eyes looked up to meet your own, and you couldn’t help but smile at him, if only to comfort him. “Yes, i think that would be too much right now. Maybe… maybe I could… i could touch myself and you can just… be here?”

You flushed a little with his words, but you nodded and kissed the tip of his nose, savoring the way he smiled.

“That sounds wonderful,” you said. “Here,” you began shifting him and yourself.

You moved so he was laying on his side, you laying behind him. Your chest was pressed to his, and you felt the full body shudder that went through him. “This okay?” You asked, and he nodded. You cuddled up to his back, and hummed to him, “Then go ahead, my love. Do what you want.”

Astarion shuddered and you could feel him moving to slip a hand under the hem of his pants. You gently rested a hand on his hip, not sensing anything saying he disliked the touch. His breathing slowly started to pick up, and you could feel him palming himself softly before slipping his cock from his trousers. You hummed your approval, whispering to him, “That’s a good boy.” He whined low in his throat, and you felt his arm start to move as he began stroking himself. You couldn’t see at this angle, but you felt the way his body would slowly start tensing, his chest rising, could see the way he tried to bury his face in the pillow, knowing you were right behind him as he touched himself.

You muttered soft coos of approval to him as he chased his pleasure, each of your words making his breath hitch just a little more.

You hummed, “So good for me, my love, making yourself feel good. Love watching you like this.”

You could so easily ignore your own arousal if it meant you got to witness his. He was beautiful.

Astarion gasped, “D-darling, gods… the way you talk to me, hah, makes me… fuck, I need it…” he trembled and began stroking himself faster, throwing his head back against your shoulder. You smiled against his neck and kissed the pale skin softly, feeling the way it made his entire body shudder. His breathing slowly turned in to whines, desperate and strained.

Your hand ran up to his chest, brushing over the soft skin, savoring the little twitch he gave when your hand ran over his nipples, moving to feel over his rib cage as you whispered how beautiful he was, making himself feel good like this.

You kissed his temple, the saltiness of his sweat clinging to your lips. You caught a glimpse of that beautiful face when he tilted it back to arch himself; brow furrowed, eyes closed, lips slightly parted. “Gods,” you breathed, his red eyes fluttering open. You leaned up to kiss him, not even attempting to look down and see him desperately chasing his release, knowing that catching a glimpse may be too much for him.

You buried your face back in his neck, and he gave a high pitched whine, gasping, “C-can’t… fuck, love, ah, please, I can’t do it, please, help me,” the last words came out as a mere whisper, and you could feel how frantically he was moving in attempting to chase his release. Worried he would hurt himself, you whispered to him, your hand slowly trailing down his hips to rest on his upper thigh.

“May I touch you?” You asked.

“Please,” he nearly sobbed, letting himself go and grabbing your wrist to guide you to his cock. You wrapped your hand around him, heavy and hot in your palm. He was so hard, gods it must have hurt.

You stroked him softly, your thumb swiping over his tip and smearing his precum over himself. He whimpered, still holding your wrist, and you could feel the way his entire body trembled. “Please,” he whispered.

You kissed the back of his neck, mouthing at the flesh there softly as you set your pace, stroking him and smearing his pre over the head, making your hand much slicker to give him a feeling that, if his whimpers and trembles said anything, must be quite lovely.

He jolted and whined, his cock twitching in your hand. You could tell he was close, losing himself to the pleasure, one hand having a death grip on your wrist and the other tangled in the furs of the bedroll. You’d never seen him so lost to himself.

He gasped, “I’m gonna-!” Not even able to get out his warning before your felt his release coating your hand. You stroked him through his orgasm, savoring his gasps, catching the slightest glimpse of a furrowed brow and open mouth, eyes squeezed shut, tears threatening to spill from the corners.

“That’s it, hun,” you breathed to him. “That’s a good boy. Let go for me.”

You kept stroking him until he gave a particularly harsh jolt, with which you withdrew your hand and wiped it on some miscellaneous clothing tossed near your bedroll. You kissed the back of his neck, savoring the silence for a moment.

Astarion was the first to speak. “Thank you,” he said.

“I hope it was to your liking. It wasn’t too much?”

“No, it was wonderful. I… needed that. Do… you want me to take care of you?” He rolled over to face you, glancing down to your trousers. You could see the unease stirring in his eyes at the thought alone

You shook your head. “Tonight was about you. I’m just happy I got to see that pretty face when you came,” you teased, fighting a laugh at Astarion’s shocked and embarrassed expression.

“Gods, you’re truly insufferable sometimes.”

“Same to you, my love,” you teased, kissing the tip of his nose and pulling him in close. You pulled a blanket up over his waist to give him some cover, to which he hummed his appreciation and nuzzled in to your chest, sleep catching the both of you and luring you into its embrace.

#astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion headcanons #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 #bg3 headcanons #astarion smut #astarion fluff #x reader

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little-worm-grant · 8 months

Text

How They Loved You

Moonboys x You (Reader)

730 words / 18+ only, no minors

Masterlist.

If you like what you see, leave a like or reblog and follow me ♥

Summary: Who fell in love with you first? How do they behave around you? Some ramblings of how each of the alters likes to love you.

Warnings: No smut but suggestive.

Dedicated to @lunaselena - ♥

Steven thought it the moment he met you. The way you talked. The way you smiled at him. How kind you were. Didn’t show him any sign of being sick of his rambling. He was smitten. Didn’t take him long to blurt it out. He wanted to please you in every way he could think of. He learned fast. Intuitive towards you. Empathetic to your needs. He listened. Searched for ways to gently push buttons he never knew existed before you.

Simply having you existing gave him all the motivation he needed to try and make you happy. You let him explore and find his confidence. In turn, he’d find ways to surprise you. Always with that dopey grin on his face and that eagerness like you wouldn’t believe.

He’d be the one that’d spend a whole movie massaging your back. Cuddling or staring at you that little bit longer or until he couldn’t any more. He’s easily flustered and still bashful at times. Eyes quickly cast away as you strip the last of your clothing. His gaze would always return.

Once he was comfortable in your space? He’d be sneaking up to try and surprise you. Playful in his kisses and bites against you. Knowing exactly what he was doing but feigning innocence. More giggly in his flirting and teasing. Checking in when he can to make sure everything he’s doing and you’re doing is okay. He’d worship the ground you stood on if he could.

Sure, he liked you for a while, but it took Marc getting to know you before it came down hot and heavy. Suddenly there was no air to breathe unless it was yours. You were his thoughts day and night. He needed all his time with you. Felt he was missing out anytime the others were with you instead of him.

Years would pass and he’d still be the same way. Utterly devoted. Not loud in his affection or words like the others sometimes were, but he made sure you knew he loved you. Gentle in all the right ways. Rough in the ways you both needed. He’d be the one doing the most to make sure you were cared for. Feed you. Drag you into baths and showers with him. Pull you into his arms to nap with him.

Marc loves you and only you. You’re more important to him than himself. He’d be the kind to burn the world down just to keep you safe. He’d kill for you. He’d be the most unstable if you left. A kind of obsessiveness he knows can’t be healthy but can’t help himself.

Took the longest time for him to express his feelings. Even if he felt it, he never expected it to be reciprocated. Marc’s good at putting on a show of being stoic and decisive. Deep down he still felt undesirable, like he wasn’t worth you. How lucky he was to have such a person to orbit around. You were his sun. His planet. And all the stars around him.

Took him the longest to come around to the idea of loving you. Told yourself it was because he wasn’t out much and when he was he’d tried to avoid you and the others. Too used to his own bubble. Worried you’d hurt him if you got the chance. By being in constant proximity to the others, you caught glimpses of him. And in those glimpses, you seemed to like what you saw.

Jake’s moment of falling in love wasn’t hard and fast like Steven’s, or hot and heavy like Marc’s. It was an “awww fuck. Shit.” Kind of moment. Him standing there rubbing his gloved hand over his face because he realizes he really does care about this spicy little dumbass. You drive him crazy and he couldn’t understand until now why he wants you to keep doing that.

He wants to excite you. Take you out to see and do things you’ve probably never seen or done before. Enjoys the company in those long drives he loves to take. You catch him off guard with being okay he’s more his own person. He likes to be around and indispensable to others. Likes that you like seeing him like that. Marc’s bold, but Jake can be bolder. He’s possibly a little more on the competitive side. Isn’t one to back down.

#steven grant #marc spector #jake lockey #moon knight #oscar isaac #jake lockley x you #jake lockley x reader #marc spector x you #marc spector x reader #steven grant x you #steven grant x reader #open rp #open starter #marcs pov #jakes pov #stevens pov #moon boys

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liliannadelaphinehartifelt · 7 months

Text

Alastor - [DEVOTION…. Pt. 2]

xxxxx xxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxx xxxx xxx

[ NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ SLIGHT AGE GAP ] + [ ARRANGED MARRIAGE ] + [ BREEDING KINK ] + [ MENTIONS OF BLOOD & GORE ]

xxxxx xxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxx xxxx xxx

Beautiful days weren't uncommon in New Orleans.

They frequently occurred -even more so during the late summer months in the swamped countryside- where you now found yourself traveling through alongside your husband.

Alastor had decided it was high time both of you visited your recently conjoined families. His mother constantly asked to see you again, calling twice a week like clockwork to check on her darling son and his ever-so-sweet wife, and you appreciated her sincere affection.

You missed visiting her in person, learning things from her, and observing how much adoration she had for Alastor..

In a sense, she'd raised you like her own daughter, taking the place of your mother, who'd passed before you'd even taken your first steps. Your father was adamant a 'fever' took her, but Alastor's mother always hinted at a force greater than unfortunate health having to do with it.

You'd never thought to ask what she meant, trusting her wise and kind words wholeheartedly since Alastor was your only friend, but curiosity did plague your thoughts from time to time.

Her passing was a tragedy you could barely remember….

However, it was in the past, your mother was gone with your childhood, and you were now in the present -married to a man you never wished to part from…

Even more so now that he'd revealed how truly devoted he was to you and you alone…

“….I feel much more than love for you, my dear. Devotion is a better term…obsession at times…”

Those words of his rang loud and clear in your head for days on end, making your heart flutter ten times harder than it usually did when he was near and coaxing a particular passion for making him happy out of you at every opportunity given.

Your infatuation had grown into undeterred loyalty and in your opinion he deserved every bit of it.

Alastor worked tirelessly to further his career. Reaping the benefits of such hard work through copious amounts of money and awards from various admirers.

He'd perfected so many things to reach that point, hiding his natural down home drawl with a perfect transatlantic accent -you found both charming but preferred the first. Although, you understood why he’d mastered the ladder accent, and never insisted upon him disregarding it.

It was what made his character, brought the masses running back for more each time he was on air, and what kind of wife would you be if you asked him to refute all the admiration for simple and selfish reasons?..

He wasn’t home often enough to have such conversations in the first place…

Alastor was no stranger to working late into the evening, writing script after script past midnight at the station, and only returning home when he was sure his manuscripts were crystal clear.

That’s what you were made to believe he was doing anyway.

Alastor made sure of that.

In your eyes he was perfect, hardworking, and utterly perfect…

Not the merciless, flesh hungry, murder that’d been stalking the streets of New Orleans for almost six consecutive months…

To your knowledge Alastor had no flaws, no deep, dark secrets you felt the need to uncover, and certainly not a man with a tainted sense of morality you couldn't fully trust.

He ensured your view of him remained spotless, devoid of bloodthirst or cruelty.

You were too innocent for it, too pure to know what he'd done and continued to do for the sake of self-satisfaction, but there is always a time for truths to come to light…

Nevertheless, Alastor strived to make sure that time never came…

So, when the city became on edge, being put under a curfew by law enforcement in hopes of slowing the occurrence of his murders, and the number of police patrols significantly increased, Alastor decided a nice…long…relaxing vacation to the countryside would be an excellent idea.

Nothing suspicious about the idea at all…

You were ecstatic about the trip, rushing to pack things for the both of you the very evening he mentioned it, and Alastor was genuinely pleased to see you so excited.

You were painfully unaware of his true motives…so willing to spend time with him and leave the fear-induced city behind…

Oh, how he loved it…you and your gentle, naive nature…

Truly, a warm-hearted belle safe and sound in his bloodstained grasp.

He almost felt guilty, looking at you now, taking your first bare footsteps into the dewy summer grass surrounding his mother's home. Your eyes lit up like the high noon sun shining down on you both, soft lips pulled into a satisfied smile as you reacquainted yourself with fresh summer air, "God, I missed this.." you whispered to yourself as the comforting wind blew through your hair.

Alastor laughed softly, smile ever present as you did a twirl in the grass before looking at him over your shoulder, "Well, aren't you gonna join me, Al? Or am I gonna have to get a hug from your mother first?"

He narrowed his eyes, smile softening at the mention of her, "First? My dear, are you askin' for a race?"

You grinned, giggling as you shrugged playfully while walking backward towards the pathway leading to his mother's home, "Only if you're agreeing to one, honey.." you respond cheekily.

Your husband could never resist a challenge.

Ever.

You’d realized that very early on in your time with him, using it to your advantage more often than he realized.

Getting your way with Alastor was a special skill unique to you and not a soul else…

A smirk tugged at your lips as Alastor pushed off from leaning against the car, rolling his sleeves up as he strode towards you, "Daring, little thing, aren't you?" He teased, having to yell as you spun on your heel and took off without warning.

You let out a laugh, hearing him give chase, only a meter behind you in less than three seconds, and his subtle chiding at your attempt at cheating urging you to beat him.

"Looks like I'll beat you, dearest!" He boasts, drawing nearer to you within seconds, but hesitating to pass you by as he took in the sight of your white cotton dress riding higher up your thighs as you ran.

A delectable view for him in more ways than one…

Alastor couldn’t recall the last time he’d seen such a carefree and angelic sight. Nor, did he want to when you were right in front of him.

You scoffed at his teasing, oblivious to Alastor’s longing stare as you hiked up the front hem of your dress to hop over a fallen tree branch, but when you landed, he was at your side -a smirk already sneaking its way onto his face as you shot him a surprised glance.

When had he gotten so fast?…

You weren't sure, but Alastor had always been more physically fit than most, so you merely tried to keep up with him as the end of the path approached.

He beat you by five feet at least, but you were in too much of a giggle fit to notice. "You cheated!" You chirped, faking a pout as he leaned against one of the dark timber poles that upheld the wrap-around porch. "I was only beating you at your own game, ma chère… fair is fair." Alastor flashed you a grin, pushing his glasses to rest on top of his head before raising a hand to swipe the specks of dust that'd landed on his cheek during your short race.

You smiled at the rare, docile, boyish action. Alastor was never one to altogether drop his guard, so when moments like this occurred, you'd relish in it for as long as possible.

"Here, let me…" you spoke softly, still a little breathless after running but eager to help your husband. Alastor dropped his hand from his face, leaning down to make your reach for him less strenuous, and you smiled at the tiny habit.

He'd always considered your height difference, and your tummy fluttered at each implication of it.

Using the back of your dress sleeve, you carefully wiped at his cheek as he stared at you, allowing you to gingerly guide his face from side to side with your small hand cupping his jaw. "There, much better, monsieur.." you compliment him with a flirtatious drawl, admiring his dust free skin in the sunlight as a few strands of his wavy brown hair shifts over his eyes from the wind.

Alastor returns your admiration, gaze lowering to your lips when you speak and slowly rising again as you place the round glasses back on his face. "Thank you,'ma chère," he sighs gratefully, natural southern drawl shining through as he speaks, finding himself out of breathless as you stare up at him lovingly.

In all his life Alastor could count on one hand how many times an inkling of ‘love’ had trickled its way into his heart. You seemed to be a factor in at least half of those memories.

He deemed that fact more than enough reason to kill for you if fate ever dictated harm your way…

What man wouldn't spill a bit of blood for a woman that looks at him the way you are looking at him now..?

A lesser one, surely.

Alastor considered himself far from the definition of a lesser man..

“It’s my pleasure,” you mutter in response, shifting to step around him and knock on the door, but Alastor stops you by wrapping an arm around your waist, bringing you in close to gently kiss your nose, then your lips, and you return the intimate gesture on instinct.

He hums deep within his chest as your soft lips melt into his, grip tightening on your waist as he unconsciously glides his tongue along yours, and you successfully stifle a moan at the unexpected intrusion.

Was that….blood you tasted on him?…

You weren't given much time to register the iron residue mixed with the hints of black coffee you'd made for him that morning since the sound of a door swinging open startled you half to death before any connection could be made.

"Oh, well, would you get a look at you two!" Angelique Hartifelt beamed as she registered who was on her doorstep. Alastor immediately let you go, smiling wide as his mother tugged him into an airtight hug, and you blushed at the heartwarming sight.

"Hello, mother," Alastor mumbled into her dark curls, swaying her in his arms as she took him in, "My, you've grown baby…real successful too, I hear.." She laughed as he nodded, both clearly happy to see each other after so long, but she eventually pulled away from Alastor to turn her attention to you.

"Sweet girl… c'mere! God, you're just as pretty as a magnolia in May!" You had no time to reply as she hugged you tight, kissing your cheek while you giggled and greeted her politely, "You're too kind, Mrs. Hartifelt … It's nice to see you again! I've missed you dearly!"

She stepped back, grinning as wide as her son as she spun you around, "Don't be silly, honey! Married life becomes you! I missed seeing your lovely self, too. Maybe if Al stopped working so much, you'd have more time to stop by.." She gave him a playful glare, to which he flashed an apologetic smile.

"I'll try to remember that, Mother.." he tipped his head in understanding, and she swatted his arm lightly. "Oh, you know I'm only poking fun, baby. Come on inside, I wanna hear about the two of you…"

She paused, ushering you in the door first with a knowing smile, "…and if I have any grandchildren on the way." Her jest made you turn bright red, but her lighthearted laughter that followed eased your nerves.

However, Alastor's face fell for a moment as she said it, the two of you sharing a strange stare as Angelique closed the behind her and whisked past you both to lead the way into the kitchen.

It was only for a split second, but you could've sworn Alastor looked…

Hopeful…?

Or rather, genuinely affected by the mention of having a child with you…

The complex expression vanished from his face just as quickly as it appeared, his gaze shifting from you to his mother as she set a pitcher of sweet tea and a plate full of cookies out, and you instantly focused on the dish of sweets as the sugary smell invaded your nose.

You were here to enjoy her company, get away from the world and its burdensome worries, and overthinking Alastor’s every reaction wouldn’t be a good start to that….

Besides, her sweets were always your favorite; she'd shown you how to bake, and you attributed most of your cooking skills to her teaching. Alastor had also picked up a great deal of culinary tricks from her, and it became another hobby you two bonded over during childhood.

"Those look amazing, Mrs. Hartifelt," you flashed her a smile, humming as you pretended to swoon over them, and she laughed at your slight dramatics. "I suspected you'd stop by, so I made your favorite, honey. Come on, sit!"

"Don't mind if I do," you chirped and sat next to her at the modestly round dining table; she poured you both a glass of sweet tea before looking over at Alastor expectantly. "That means you too," she gently scolded his standoff-ish behavior, watching as he took a seat on her unoccupied side and patting his cheek in gratitude as he did.

Alastor leaned into her touch, mumbling an apology for not accompanying her sooner, "I got lost in thought, is all…" he clarified in a soft chuckle, and she nodded in understanding.

"Mmm, really, what about?"

His gaze shifted to you again, and your body momentarily froze as he stared while answering his mother, "How much I love you…that’s all.”

Whether he meant to direct the phrase towards you or his mother was unclear, but your chest tightened, and your head filled with fog nonetheless.

How could he still manage to make you so unsteady within the simplest efforts and gestures?…

Alastor held your gaze for a minute longer, forgetting where he was presently, but his self induced trance vanished as his mother spoke again.

"I see you still haven’t lost your charm to the big city. That radio show must keep you on your toes, then.."

He nodded, laughing gently at his mother's teasing, "I wouldn’t dream of it, and my audience expects the best, so I must deliver."

She nods, humming as her chocolate eyes drift towards you, "And how is my lovely son treating you, sweetheart? Well, I presume?"

You could hear the hint of curiosity in her tone, light but underlying seriousness in her question. It was no secret to her that Alastor had…certain tendencies, but those were reserved for people who deserved it, and you'd never been deemed deserving.

She hoped it remained that way…

To her inner relief, you answered her with the broadest smile and happiest tone, "Oh, of course! I couldn't have asked for a better husband! You raised him well..a true gentleman, Mrs. Hartifelt."

Alastor smirked, reveling in your praise, unbothered by his mother eyeing him carefully before she gave you a pleasant response, "I'm glad to hear that. You're still sweet on him too…just like when you were little."

You blushed, taking a ginger bite of one cookie while nodding, "Mhm.."

Why you became nervous when your childlike crush on Alastor was brought up was a mystery, but you couldn't help it since both of your families saw your subtle pining for him day in and day out.

"Speaking of 'little'…" his mother sat straight, arms crossed over her chest as she glanced at the both of you, "When are you two gonna give me a grandbaby to look after. I'm not getting any younger, Al.."

That look crossed his face again, but his smile remained.

You, however, nearly choked on your sweet treat, but luckily managed not to make an utter fool of yourself. A minor cough and a quick sip from your glass eased your mishap.

Angelique patted your back gently, laughing softly at your reaction, "Honey, I'm only kidding… there's no rush." Her reassurance was genuine, but unbeknownst to her, Alastor had breached the subject already.

Albeit in the heat of a very intense and lust-driven moment.

"Ma chère," Alastor rose from his chair, slight concern on his face as he came to kneel by your chair, "…are you alright?"

You nodded slowly, smiling softly at him before huffing out, "M' fine…no need to worry.." he nodded in return, standing to his feet to address her implications.

"We'll see what the future holds, Mother, but as of now, are we welcome to your hospitality for a few days?"

He knew she'd say 'yes' but made it a habit to ask.

Alastor maintained impeccable manners, just as she'd taught him to have, and it brought a proud glint to Angelique’s eyes.

"Now, Al, why would I ever say no to that. You two stay as long as you want!"

You tipped your head in gratitude, "Thank you, Mrs. Hartifelt.."

She scoffed, placing her hand over one of yours before leaning in close as if to tell you a secret Alastor shouldn’t hear.

"Even after all these years and being married to my boy, you're still so polite, Y/n. The world won't burn to a crisp if you call me 'mother' sweetheart."

She kissed your temple, and your heart melted at the tender gesture, "We are family, after all."

That was true…

"I suppose you're right, Mrs- I mean mother." You tripped over the words, so used to being formal but enjoying the new arrangement.

It felt natural enough.

"Look how easy that was!" Angelique patted your hand assuredly, stood from her seat, and began to clear the table.

There was no doubt in your mind that Alastor got his charm from her….

Your revelation was cut short as she absentmindedly spoke to you again, "Pay your father a visit before you settle in. I'm sure he'd like to see you…he comes by often asking about you two a lot these days.."

You stiffened at the mention of your father, recalling the last time you'd seen him.

Exactly a year ago.

The day you married Alastor…

After that, you'd barely spoken to him, not because you wished for distance but because he'd established it.

Your father may have agreed to your marriage with Alastor, but he only partially warmed up to your husband. He'd looked upon him with a hidden distaste from the very beginning of your friendship.

"Something's off about that boy…" he’d say.

Then proceed to warn you of a danger that never existed in your opinion. "You be careful around him…real careful.."

When he realized your attraction to Alastor his nagging only worsened, "He's a charmer…those are never good for anything. You remember that."

For years, his assumptions of Alastor irked you to no end; it perplexed you why he even married you off to him, but whenever you'd search for answers, he'd give the same vague answer.

"That boy isn't what he seems. Never has been and never will be.."

Frustrating as he was, you could never bring yourself to hate him for it, but the thought of having to endure his morbid company wasn’t comforting at all.

Alastor recognized the distress in your gentle features, your bright eyes narrowing at the tabletop, and your hands wringing around each other nervously.

All because of him.

Mr. L/n...

The one man who seemed to get a clue as to who and what Alastor was without anything other than a so-called ‘gut feeling’.

Alastor had tried for years to mask his true nature from him, but your father saw right through him at every encounter.

He had been and still was Alastor’s worst agitation…

Such a bothersome fool…

Your husband averted his oncoming glare to the nearest wall before wiping the disdain off his face, and reaching a hand out to caress your back. You relaxed under his firm touch, looking up to him as his thumb rubbed soothing circles into your spine, "It'll only be a short visit, my dear. We'll have the whole weekend after that…"

His smile eased your fretting, leading you to nod and smile back. "Alright… y-you'll come with me, yes?"

Absolutely not-

Alastor inwardly hushed his shadow demon, tipping his head in warning to the spectrum and forcing it to hold its tongue before it overrode his consciousness.

His smile widened, the hand on your back sliding up to cup your cheek, "Of course, mon chere. I wouldn't dream of letting you go alone.."

We should-

His shadow attempted to cut in again, but Alastor withheld its advance with a simple command.

Hush up. Now…

Fortunately, it ceased all communication, and his focus on you went unhindered.

You stood from your chair, rising on your tiptoes to peck his lips with your own, whispering against them before you pulled away.

"Thank you… Sometimes I dont know what I'd do without you…"

Alastor cursed the sharp pang that penetrated his heart as you said those words, an eerie sense of Deja vu hitting him in waves, but the uneasy feeling never showed on his face -not until you thanked his mother one last time before flurrying upstairs to freshen up.

Angelique felt her son’s mood shift, intuition leading her to ask him what was on his mind, "Something wrong?.."she mumbles calmly without ceasing in her task of cleaning.

Alastor remained silent for a long moment, watching as his mother moved on to pulling out ingredients to cook for dinner, and when she turned to face him entirely, he found the sense to speak.

"It's gettin' worse…" he confessed through a tight-lipped smile, leaning back against a wall to keep his composure, and she needed no other clues to figure out his cause for distress.

"The killing' or the magic?" She inquires, back to him, and but her voice laced with evident care.

"Both. It's getting to me..bad…more frequently.." he confesses.

Angelique hums in understanding, "Have you been hunting at all these past few weeks?.."

Alastor took his glasses off, breath coming out strained as his eyes shifted from their usual whiskey color to a redder hue.

"No. Not since…" he falters, gritting his teeth as his unruly spectral companion cut into his train of thought.

Not since you fucked her-

"I said shut the hell up…" Alastor seethed out loud, eyes screwing shut as his shadow danced onto the wall, yet his mother remained unphased by the sudden outburst.

She merely peered at the taunting shadow, causing it to cower back in her son's tall frame, "Go hunting while you're here. That'll take the edge off, but get that spirit in check before you do, or it won't end well. You hear me?"

Alastor nodded, rolling his neck to alleviate the tension in his body before recapturing his shadow and flashing his mother an understanding smile.

Her advice was final, a direct warning to him, and it garnered a welcomed sense of control over his frazzled behavior.

His smile lost its crazed edge, drawing into a polite smirk as he peered at her expectantly.

"Do you happen to have my old hunting gear lying around?.."

She turned towards the stove, not affected by his sudden personality switch by any means, and simply motioned a hand upstairs before answering him, "In your father's old study. Right where you left it, behind the bookshelf…."

Alastor perked up, grinning wide as the memory of his last hunting spree crossed his mind, "Merci, mother." He thanked her, walking over to kiss her cheek before exiting the homely kitchen while humming a new tune as he strode up the steps with newfound confidence.

Tonight, he'd look for prey…

How he'd satiate his shadow's pesky intrusions was a matter he'd have to solve later.

Although, if the way it constantly became hyperactive at the mere mention or sight of you had anything to do with it Alastor was certain you were the solution to the problem.

+++++

The visit with your father went as you expected it to go.

He welcomed you with open arms and a tender smile, but when he saw Alastor climbing the marble steps of your family’s estate, his cordial behavior waned.

“I see you’ve brought him along…” he made no effort to hide the distaste in his tone as Alastor reached your side.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again as well Mr, L/n…” Your husband remained polite as always, masking his hatred for the man with a practiced facade of kindness.

Alastor became more affectionate towards you in his presence, going so far as to kiss the top of your head and wrapping an arm around your waist protectively, making every effort to keep you close throughout the tense reunion.

Your father clearly did not take a liking to his indirect aggravations it at all…

Yet, he said nothing on the matter, cutting your visit short with the tired excuse of having an 'important engagement' he needed to attend to.

So, in under an hour of resisting your childhood home, you found yourself walking back through the secret trail you and Alastor had paved years ago to commute across, and with each step, you felt more at ease.

You weren't quick to anger, but your father's jabs towards Alastor never ceased to ruin your mood. Thankfully, your husband seemed more eclectic than when you'd arrived in the countryside, and that, in turn, brightened your previously somber spirits.

Alastor held your arm under his as the two of you trekked along the path, going over small hills, thin creeks, and finally through a line of forestry bordering his mother's home.

The sun was beginning to set as you entered the forest end of your journey. The warm summer wind becoming a bit chilly as it whipped through the large willow and evergreen trees. Alastor kept you close, better acquainted with the woods than you were, but not because he'd memorized the path from childhood.

No, his memory of it stemmed from the many bloody escapades he'd enjoyed there and intended to continue sooner rather than later…

All for a rush, for the flesh, for the undisputed thrill.

Even now he couldn't stop grinning, thinking about it, failing to dampen his excitement as he led you both through the darkening woods.

You glanced up at him, happy to see Alastor so content despite your awful encounter with your father, "I apologize for him… he's…" you paused, trying to find the right words to describe your father's behavior, but he beat you to it with a gentle laugh.

"A cynical old man who believes that I'm no good for you?"

His voice held an edge, but you took the comment as playful heat and not as a harmful insult the way Alastor intended it to sound.

You couldn’t blame him for feeling spiteful about the whole ordeal…

He had every right to be unnerved…

A tender sigh slipped past your lips, and you nodded in agreement as he glanced down at you, "A spot-on depiction…not a pretty one either.." Alastor chuckled, shaking his head dismissively as he reassured you he took no offense to your father's dislike of him.

Though it was somewhat justified.

"Don't you worry yourself about him, my dear. I have you, and he can do nothing about it…"

Not a fucking thing…

You peered up at Alastor, noting the unwavering smile on his face as he spoke, but the glare in his eyes said he felt anything but indifference about the situation.

That worried you…scared you a little…

"Al…" you whispered, halting in your tracks and causing him to do the same. Your brows furrowed as he lowered his head, his breaths becoming heavy as his hold on your arm grew harder, but not enough to harm you.

His smile only grew as you muttered again, "Alastor, …look at me…" your words as tender as ever as you turned on your heel to face him head-on.

Alastor's eyes twitched as you came close, flashing red when you cupped his face with both hands and dipped your head to gain proper eye contact with him.

Concern was written all over you face…

You tried to decipher Alastor’s expression, ignoring the chill running down your spine as his gaze hardened while the air around you grew stiffer by the second.

Was he angry?

It felt as if he were but something in his unwavering stare told you this emotion surpassed that, and you couldn't deny how intensely it radiated off him as he slowly tilted his head at you.

Possessiveness.

Pure, unbridled need for dominance.

Whether it was over you or his state of mind remained unclear as he took a step forward. You made no effort to back away, letting Alastor tower over you, and not once breaking eye contact with him.

“Alastor…you can tell me-“

The comforting words died on your tongue when he jerked you into his chest, large hands finding your wrists as the heated kiss he initiated silenced the surprised yelp that left your lips as they melded with his.

You eyes drifted shut as he deepened the exchange, gradually relenting your body control over to him as he guided your arms to wrap around his neck. Alastor shifted his hold on your wrists to trace down your sides, the ghost like touch sending a shock through you immediately.

He smiled at your skittish reaction, oddly calmer than he was a moment before as he dared to pull similar responses from you. His skilled tongue delved into you mouth, inviting yours to play along while he leveraged his larger frame against your smaller one. You obediently stepped back as he pressed forward, subtly flinching as your backside hit the bark of the nearest tree, yet the scratch of wood on your covered skin failed to bother you as the kiss became feverish.

Desperate…

Alastor was desperate for something…

For what you weren’t certain, unable to think straight when he had you pinned against a decaying evergreen, stealing your breath away with ease, only pulling away from your lips to catch his own breath.

You quietly panted for air as well, blood rushing to your head from the sound of his have breathing mixing with the distant chirps of crickets harmonizing alongside buzzing cicadas.

The wind seemed to lose its chill as it passed between the nonexistent space separating you both.

Alastor held you still in that moment, one hand at the back of your neck to keep your head raised towards his, and the other resting under your chin. His thumb traced over your now spit slick lips, brown eyes following the slight tremble in them as you continued to pant for air.

Oh, how he adored your eagerness to please him. Always so desperate for more of him and never quite aware of your own greediness for his undivided affection.

“What is there for me to tell you, ma chère…?” The words thundered in his chest, almost a low hum in the midst of the surrounding wilderness, but you heard him clear enough.

“How you truly feel….whats behind that smile you fight so hard to maintain.” You gulp down the anxiety trying to creep its way into your tone, inhaling sharply as he pushed a knee between your thighs, and your train of thought came to a halt feeling him put pressure on your thinly covered cunt.

You knew the gesture was a from of distraction on his part, an attempt to avert your attention from the uneasy shift in his mood, and though you wanted to push him back and demand he take your concerns seriously…

The building heat in your core advised otherwise, overriding your urge to coax an explanation from Alastor with the need to be filled by him instead, and the growing amount of stars in your eyes as he continued to toy with your body made it all the more obvious to him.

“I assure you I’m quite alright, darling“ Alastor remained true to his previous claim, smiling softly as your eyes lidded over while your hips tentatively began to rock over his thigh at a sluggish pace, and your hands unraveling from his neck to trail down his chest. The linen fabric of his shirt cooled your burning fingertips, keeping your focus clear enough for another hushed whisper to leave your lips, “Tellin’ me not lie to you but then turning around and doing it yourself…”

You paused, holding his gaze as your tongue darted out to lick at his thumb teasingly, “How is that fair, Alastor, hm?…” your voice remains quiet, the taste of his skin lingering on the tip of your tongue as the questions hangs in the air around you, and it seems to hit a nerve in him.

A flash of red illuminates his irises, smile stretching wide across his face at your seductive actions and reprimanding remarks, “Fair? Is that what you want from me, mon chere? A fair bit of truth?”

His shadow itched to enlarge, wanting nothing more than to show itself to you, and intake the delirious reaction you’d surely have to seeing its monstrous form.

Although, Alastor kept it at bay, settling with trailing the hand on your neck to tangle through your hair, tugging it just rough enough to earn a soft gasp from you, and that action alone hard your inside twisting with anticipation.

You knew he’d never harm you, never lift a finger to imply harsh treatment, but the thrill of finally experiencing a hidden side of your husbands persona had your heart racing and your cunt throbbing.

“Yes…” you whimper compliantly, hands fisting the collar of his dress shirt to tug him closer, and Alastor growled at the aggressive action.

“Careful what you ask for, sweet girl…” he warns you through gritted teeth, tempted to kiss you again as an airy giggle leaps from your mouth, “And what if I refuse to be?”

Fuck, I need her…we need her…

His shadow twitched, writhing in the waning light of the sun at your taunting, and embodying every ounce of excitement the man before you struggled to contain as the heat of your cunt gliding over his thigh persisted with every gentle buck of your hips against him.

Alastor felt his blood run hot as you pried at his self control, the corner of your lips pulling up into a knowing smile as he stared at you hungrily, and not a single drop of apprehension present in your gaze as he lowered his head to whisper in your ear.

“Then I suppose I’m left with no other choice than to remind you what happens to curious little cats, my dear…”

xxxxx xxxxx xxxxxx xxxxxx xxxxx xxxx xxx

Idk if I hate or love this chapter…like I’m so used to writing smut that writing angst or fluff feels so dreadful to me. Plus, you guys liked the first part so much I didn’t want to fuck this up…I promise the next part is pure smut and gore lol. This was essentially a filler part (I’m sorry)… ❤️ also did you guys catch the Princess and the Frog reference I threw in?!? If you did then I freakin adore you hehehe ❤️

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

I’d cry, scream, fucking beg for this man…it’s fucking ridiculous how much I love him tbhhhh ❤️ credit to creator

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lucilleslore · 10 months

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lovesick snow really really really scratches a part of my brain that i cannot have the words that explain it and have to go the library of babel to find it. he'd be more easy to manipulate in that state, especially how vulnerable he is to you and how willing he'd do anything for you. like you said in one of your first posts, i'm in love with the idea of it of how powerful the reader is if you want to add more backstory to them.

ok so i went with your idea and gave manipulative!reader and snow the backstory they deserve for the little au we have going here!! i hope you love it <3

➸ so as a kid i see manipulative!reader as a bit of a daydreamer and what do lots of little girls dream about?? their wedding. for you though it wasn’t necessarily about the day, not even the fancy dress or the colour scheme but the person. let’s just say you’re already from quite an influential family but it’s not enough - you want more.

➸ you wanted a husband that’s powerful, motivated. he had to be important and charismatic - someone who could really get you what you wanted from life. you weren’t completely unbothered by the idea of romance though and hoped that’d you’d manage to get them utterly devoted to you, willing to do anything to protect you and make you happy. it’s not a hard thing to ask for, right?

➸ you’d always been aware of coriolanus snow but there always seemed to be better candidates for your attention. then he comes back to the capitol and you can sense the change in him - the unhinged, power hungry aura that seemed to surround him and as he quickly started making a new name for himself, you thought he could be the one.

➸ coryo would never be an easy person to get close to however. so you had to subtly start placing yourself in his life. it was a slow process but you were diligent. ‘bumping’ into him just outside his apartment, having the same social calendar as him, even showing an interest in the games so someone would set up an appointment between the two of you to discuss.

➸ then there was one moment. one that not even you - seemingly the mastermind of your own life - had planned out. it was raining that day, pouring and you were alone rushing back to your apartment. you weren’t paying attention to where you were going and when you stepped out onto the road you weren’t prepared for the onslaught of screeching tires or horns. or for the strong grip that wrapped around your wrist and pulled you back.

➸ coryo was there just as drenched as you were but with a kind of frenzied, panicked look in his eyes. ‘you should watch where you’re going,’ he’d urged. it was the way he said it, the way his hand squeezed at your wrist that had you thinking maybe he’d been noticing your efforts after all. he’d tugged you closer to him as if you’d be safer there and it was probably the most genuine moment you’d had in years, as you blinked up at the blonde man who’d just saved your life.

➸ honestly after that you decide to back off, feeling a little guilty about your scheming but seemingly the universe wanted the two of you on the same path. or maybe coriolanus did. suddenly he was there at family functions, taking meetings with your father, charming your mother at all costs. he’d come to dinners hosted at your families estate and his eyes would never leave you from across the table even when he was in a conversation.

➸ so when your family told you about the marriage proposal you weren’t that surprised, just giddy. everything was finally falling into place. you knew you’d have to be careful. to you snow was charming, doting in a sense but you’d heard the rumours. he could be dangerous and you’d have to make sure you were never in his firing line.

➸ in the beginning of your marriage you try and play coy, let coryo take the lead in things. you like to let him know how you rely on him, always holding onto his arm in public and letting him speak first. basically just playing up to his male ego but something about seeing you feeling so safe with him and letting your guard down has him letting some walls down too. which is exactly what you want.

➸ he’d start to confide in you after a while because you’re just such a good little wife! bringing him drinks in the evening in your pretty dresses, loosening his shirts and playing with his hair. it isn’t his fault he ends up telling you things about his past, things he plans to do in the future - a lot of things that he probably shouldn’t tell you especially since you’ll remember each and every one.

➸ kinda dark but i love the idea of you being able to read people really well and always hyper aware of who coryo surrounds himself with, always sussing out their intentions before he does. you give it a little while but if he’s still not catching onto them you’ll simply make something up. maybe they’re giving you dirty looks or maybe their gazes are just lingering a little too long for your liking, in places they certainly shouldn’t be looking. maybe they’ve flirted with you, maybe they’re making nasty digs but you have coryo eating out the palm of your hand by this point and he’s possessive, protective in a mad, feral way. you’re flat out lying but he eats it up and whoever you want gone doesn’t last much longer after that.

➸ maybe that’s how you get your power. by simply having his ear. people know that they can get what they want through you and by the time coryo is president you have people visiting you nearly everyday. hoping you’ll let them into your inner circle, offering you things in exchange for a word whispered in his ear.

➸ and maybe coryo comes to rely on you this way. you’re a capitol darling, their perfect first lady but behind closed doors you’re separating the good from the bad. the people who can help your husband and the people who’re out to damage what he’s built. people begin to see you as a powerhouse in your own right, someone with a good side they need to be on. or else.

#- nonnies!#coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you

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lina-lovebug · 1 year

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Miguel O'Hara headcannons

- personally, I feel like miguel would fear falling in love

- all spidermen always lose someone, they never make it through a relationship, and it's overall a tough life

- so when he realizes that he's falling for you, he becomes reclusive

- he doesn't want this. he doesn't want to let himself feel because if he does, then you give him hope that he can be happy and happiness is not for Spiderman

- but once he allows himself to be with you, to be in love, he is devoted

- he's attentive, and he's definitely not a pda person because he likes keeping you all to himself

- he's very protective over you, and you understand why but you also need your space

- secretly watches you cuz he's got eyes on you at all times

- he wants you safe, and you even find a gun in your apartment at one point with a note from miguel "safety is on, love you"

- that being said, he's very romantic and likes having an entire night dedicated to the both of you

- whether that's at a restaurant or just a night in, he's completely and utterly in love and he knows he's yours and you are his

- his kisses are deep and full of love, never wasting a moment with you to show you that he absolutely loves you

#miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x reader #across the spiderverse #spiderman across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara

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darkestspring · 3 months

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What do you think of Yandere Criston? For example, let's say Y/ N replaces Rhaenyra. Y/N and she have twins from one night. A boy is a girl. Since Y/N married someone else, babies are considered a product of marriage.

It was a single night of passion, one lapse in judgement, a moment of rebeliion after finding out your father had engaged you to a man you didn't even know.

You slept with your own personal guard, Ser Criston Cole. It was a stupid move but he was the closest person to you at that moment, having lost your only friend Alicent after she married your father.

As you heard the news form the maester, your hand pressed against your stomach and your eyes filled up with tears. Why had you been so utterly stupid?! it wasn't enough to ruin your life but now this?

It wasn't bad enough to you dismissed Ser Criston from your service after that night, scared to face what you had done, like the coward you felt like. Sleeping with him, making him break his vows, that had to be an abuse of power, right? You were sure of it.

Your lip quivered as you sat on your bed in your chambers. A knock sounded and Alicent walked in quietly, she took notice of you and her face twisted up in sadness seeing you like that, her dear friend.

"The maester told me in secret. Viserys is not aware, i kept it a secret form now, only three of us know. Dear, what have you done?" She sat next to you and a sob left your lips.

"I did something stupid, Alicent. I'm sorry." Everything came over you all at once and you sobbed into her chest. You knew you shouldn't be so familiar with her, seeing as she was now your stepmother but you couldn't help it. You sobbed into her shoulder like you had when you were still friends and needed comfort.

Alicent frowned softly, concern crossing her face and her hand ran through your hair. "I'm right here, don't cry." She whispered softly. "Your husband to be is a kind man, it'll be easy to pretend they are his. You must listen to me, your father loves you, he will easily turn a blind eye to this, I love you so I will help you but you must never do this again. Yes?" Alicent whispered softly to you and you nodded as you sniffled.

And you didn't. you married your arranged husband. Your first child was a boy, Jacaerys, you lovingly nicknamed him Jace, and Visenya. You beloved children. Even if you saw bits of Criston in them, no one else did, everyone assumed they were your husbands children and your husband was kind enough to not question it.

Everything was fine. You doted on Jace and Visenya heavily. Everything was perfect, until it wasn't and you saw Criston again, returning from his service, wherever he had been and you froze under his gaze.

His gaze was the same as it was back then, dark devoted eyes that used to make you happy but now they just made you freeze in terror.

#yandere criston cole #criston cole x reader #this is fun to write!

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yawnderu · 9 months

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I am such a sensitive and emotional person, i will tear up and bawl my eyes out over the sweetest words or actions, it’s so embarrassing 😭

like wdym you thought of me when you saw that bouquet of flowers?? hugging me bc you felt like it?? you said you love me? Oh, well, I can’t say it back bc I’m in TEARS.

could I get Simon or Kyle (am I allowed to ask for both idk HELP?) just doing something - anything remotely sweet and it’s just TEARS

OFC LOVE!! HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY BTW!! I HOPE U HAD A REALLY NICE DAY AND I'LL BE WORKING ON UR OTHER REQ ONCE I PUSH OUT SOME OLDER REQS EFJHKEFBHJ<33333

God, they're both such sweethearts. They never had anyone to coddle to this degree, always focused on simply surviving and their duty as soldiers, but the moment they find you? They're naturally so damn thoughtful and romantic, even if they try to make it look casual at first, as if they're not meant for soul-crushing devotion.

"Oh? These are pretty." You compliment the bouquet of flowers he already placed in a vase, wanting to keep them alive for you for as long as possible. You're so busy admiring the pretty flowers and leaning down to smell them that you don't hear him getting up from the couch, only realizing he's right behind you when his arms wrap around your waist, bringing you in for a hug and taking a deep breath to inhale your scent.

"Thought of you." His voice is much more relaxed than when you both first met, feeling completely at peace with you. He plants gentle kisses along the back of your neck, holding you close while his brown eyes look at the big bouquet he bought, every single flower and color perfectly chosen to represent your relationship and his feelings for you.

"I love you so much." He doesn't notice anything is wrong until he feels your body shaking, quickly and carefully turning you around while his warm hands go to your cheeks, making you look up at him. Your tears making him slightly nervous— did he fuck up?

"I love you too." You manage to say before a choked sob leaves your lips, arms wrapping around their waist while your face is buried on his chest. He's so utterly confused, but he still holds you close, one hand running up and down your back soothingly while the other one cradles your head.

"Shh, it's okay, love." He reassures, planting gentle kisses on the top of your head and waiting patiently until you stop crying. His eyes soften when you explain how much what he does means to you, melting on the inside from having such a lovely girlfriend. He doesn't mention the ring buried into this closet, hidden underneath a pile of clothes.

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kaeyalovr · 8 months

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Cult leader! Suguru Geto x F!Reader

Wordcount: 2,9k

My first ever fic, so be nice !!! Had a super fun time writing this and I hope y'all enjoy :)

Cw: Non-con/dub-con, smut, creampie, abuse of authority, manipulation, rough sex, degradation, fingering, orgasm denial, religious symbolism, ooc geto, breeding, slight misogyny, religious guilt, verbal humiliation, Geto is not nice lol

You have been summoned to meet with the “esteemed leader”, Suguru Geto to discuss marriage. Every woman in the “family” must do this once they come of age, as creating more members is one of the utmost priorities of the cult.

Your parents walk you to the esteemed leader’s chambers. You’re wearing your finest kimono, the obi tied a little bit too tightly around your waist. Sweat drips from your forehead, you curl your hands into tight balls, and dig your nails into the palms of your hands so hard they start bleeding. Not that you felt it, you’re so nervous it feels like you could drop dead at any moment.

And before you know it you’ve arrived at the doors. Even though it’s at least a ten minute walk from your room to Geto’s chambers, it felt like seconds. You turn to look at your parents who have giant grins on their faces. They say something about how they’re so proud of you and how you’re their best achievement in life. Honestly you didn’t really hear anything but you assume they’d say something like that.

Right when you thought you were going to pass out, the two big wooden doors in front of you opened. You quickly looked away from your parents and turned to face the opening. Then you saw him. The esteemed leader in all his glory sitting on a mat in the middle of the room. Gods he really was beautiful wasn’t he. From his long raven locks to his perfectly chiselled body. No wonder people were utterly devoted to him.

You didn’t even realise how stupid you must’ve looked ogling at him until you felt a hand lightly push you forward. You didn’t even look back to see who it was, you just started walking forward in uneven wobbly steps. Once you reached the mat Geto was sitting on you made a light bow out of respect and sat down opposite to him. It was only then when you realised this was the closest you’d ever been to him. Of course you’d seen him in person before but only as a part of the crowd when he was on stage.

The noisy closing of the wooden doors broke you out of your thoughts and brought you back to reality. Your newest revelation was the fact that you were now completely alone with Geto. Not that that worried you… except maybe a little bit. You weren’t scared of him per say, but he definitely had a very commanding aura.

He’s the first to break the silence by saying. “Now that you are a woman grown and in the prime of your life, I think it’s only logical that you start to think about marriage.”

You send a frown his way, you weren’t very fond of the idea of getting married so soon. You wanted to experience life first after all, maybe travel the world, just like your mother did. Then get married, settle down, and start a family.

“Really there’s nothing to be worried about, I’m sure we’ll find you a suitable match within the family. And I’m positive you’ll make some man very happy.” He smiles.

The air hung heavy with tension. Geto was staring at you, his gaze calculating. You felt your heart beating so fast you thought it might jump out of your chest.

"Geto," You began, your voice barely above a whisper. "I... I'm not sure if I’m ready for marriage. I don’t particularly like anyone in the cult… like that, and I don’t think I’m ready to start a family. I was just wondering if it was really necessary..?”

Geto’s expression changed instantly. His soft smile fell into frown. "Necessary?" he repeated, his tone laced with disdain. "If I need to remind you; when you joined this “family”, you vowed to follow my instructions fully. No matter the cost. So do you really dare to question the necessity of your esteemed leader’s decisions?”

Your heart sank at the icy edge to his voice. "No, Geto, I... I meant no disrespect. Really, I just thought-" You stammered, trying to explain yourself.

But Geto was not one to tolerate disrespect, especially from one of his lowly followers. His lip curled into a sneer as he cut you off sharply. "You speak out of turn, y/n" His voice a low growl. "Do not presume you have the authority to talk back to me."

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment, your gaze dropping to the floor as you struggled to speak. "I really meant no harm, sir" You whispered, your voice barely audible.

Geto was not one to let you off the hook so easily. His eyes flashed with loathing as he started ranting. "Nothing is ever enough for you, is it?" he spat, his words dripping with disgust. "You always expect the best of the best. I bet you think you’d deserve to marry me, as if you were worthy of such honours.”

Your heart clenched at his words, a pang of guilt piercing your chest. "No, I- that's not what I meant," You protested frantically, but he silenced you with a dismissive wave of his hand, a prominent scowl on his face.

"Enough," Geto snapped, his voice loud and commanding. "So you wouldn't want to marry me, is that it? You think you’re too special to marry even me?"

Your breath caught in your throat at his insinuation, your mind racing as you started hyperventilating a bit, who knew this would be this stressful. "No, sir, I didn't mean..."

But Geto’s piercing gaze bore into you, his words cutting you off before you could even finish your sentence. "You’re so ungrateful, y/n," He declared feigning disappointment, his voice laced with scorn, even though he was internally smiling, everything was going just as he wanted. The same couldn’t be said for you, you were a complete and utter wreck. So worried about what your parents would think of you right now, daring to question the esteemed leader, God how stupid could you be.

"It would be the highest honour for you to bear my seed, to carry my children."

Your cheeks burned with shame at his words, shock painting your face. "Yes, Geto, it would be… an honour," You murmured softly, your words slightly tinged with resignation.

But deep down, beneath the facade of compliance, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at your insides. You knew that you would never truly want such a fate, that the thought of bearing Geto’s, or any man's children filled you with dread.

And yet, as you stood before him, you couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt at the thought of disappointing your parents, of failing to live up to the expectations they placed upon you. I mean it was one of the main values of the cult, that every woman get married to a good religious man and bear his children.

You sat frozen, your heart pounding with fear. Geto's smirk widened at the sight of your vulnerability, his eyes gleaming with a predatory hunger. "Well, I'm glad you agree," he purred, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "Maybe we should do it then."

Your breath caught in your throat at his words. Was he actually implying what you think he was? "But... I thought you weren't allowed to get married?" You stammered, trying not to assume the worst.

Geto’s laughter echoed throughout his chambers. "No, not the marriage part, sweet lamb," He murmured with a smirk on his face, "The sex part."

A wave of panic washed over you at his brazen statement, your pulse quickening as you realised the gravity of the situation. You had no time to think about the situation at hand any longer though, as he stood up and took a few steps in your direction, closing the distance between you two.

You quickly did the same and got up off the floor to take a few steps backwards. “Don’t make this difficult, y/n” He stated coldly, as if you were being an inconvenience. Everytime Geto took a step forward, you’d take one back. You tried to protest, but no noise came out of your mouth.

Eventually your back hit the wall and you were cornered. Suddenly, a strong hand grabbed your arm and pulled you into an embrace. You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but before you could, a hand clamped over your mouth. You felt his hot breath on your ear and his chest pressed against your back.

“If you scream, I’ll tell your parents that this was all your idea. They’d be terribly disappointed in you y/n, and you’d be known as a whore for the rest of your life. I’d tread carefully if I was you.” Geto whispered in your ear as he lowered his hand.

“It’s my word against yours…” You said, voice barely above a whisper. God you could just picture his dumb fucking smirk right now. “You’re not actually naive enough to believe that, right?”

You just remained silent and unmoving, until you felt your kimono being undone. Before you could even process anything that’s happening, it falls into a heap on the floor. The next thing you feel is Geto’s hands groping your breasts through your bra. You try to swat his hands away while pleading and begging him to stop, the actions evidently being fruitless.

“Shhh, stop struggling so hard. I can make this pleasurable for both of us you know…” Was he being serious? He was in the middle of forcibly undressing you, and he thinks you’ll enjoy this?

He skillfully unhooks your bra and throws it on the floor next to your abandoned kimono. He spins you around to face him, while you try to save your dignity and cover your newly exposed breasts. The only piece of clothing you have left on are your panties, and they don’t really leave much to the imagination.

He scolds you like a child and says something about not hiding your body from him. You try to tune him out, and leave your hands crossed, covering your chest. “Are you going to make me bring your parents in? I’m sure they’d love to hear about how disobedient and disrespectful their daughter is to their “esteemed leader”.” God he was so fucking childish, you hated how he called himself an “esteemed leader”. Really, he wasn’t very “esteemed” at all. You wonder if he had done this before to other girls, if you were just one of his many victims.

Reluctantly, you eventually lower your hands to your sides, and look away out of shame. This was the first time any man had seen you like this. Geto let out a low whistle, while you thought about how much he disgusted you. He then effortlessly picked you up bridal style, and carried you back to the middle of the room where the mat resides.

While in his hold you feel something hard poking at your side. Whoa. Before you can ponder about it further he places you on top of the mat on your back. The next thing you know he’s ripping your panties off and spreading your legs. You let out a shriek at the loss of the last barrier between you and Geto. “Your pussy is even cuter than I thought.” He states brazenly while pushing two fingers into your cunt without warning. You let out a loud gasp at the sudden intrusion. You are a virgin, but you’re also a woman who has needs, and has obviously pleasured herself before. But Geto’s fingers were unlike anything you had ever experienced before.

You let out little mewls of pleasure while his long fingers scissored and curled inside of you, occasionally hitting your sweet spot. Your cheeks were burning red with embarrassment, you knew it was only biology but still, you shouldn’t actually be enjoying this. Still, you arched your back and threw your head back in pleasure as you felt a knot tightening inside of you. Just when it was about to snap, he pulled his fingers out.

You let out a whine in protest as your back hit the floor, you send him a nasty glare. “What happened to not wanting this? I mean just look at how wet you are.” He says with a shit eating grin plastered on his face. You were going to retort until he shoved his fingers into your mouth, making you gag and taste your own essence. “Uh-uh, I don't wanna hear a word out of you anymore.”

After removing his fingers he roughly flipped you onto your back and propped you up on your hands and knees. You heard the sound of clothes rustling and pants falling. Only then did you realise that you were in deep shit. You turned and looked back at him to say something about how you weren’t ready, but then you saw it. Geto’s cock, right in front of you. You had never seen a man’s dick up close or in the flesh before, but you knew that that was not average. And you also knew that there was no way it was going to fit inside of you.

“Like what you see? By the look on your face I’d say you’re quite amazed.” Most likely referring to your mouth hanging slightly open, and your dumbfounded expression. “Geto, I-I don’t think that’s going to fit.” You mumble under your breath. “First you don’t want it, then you want it, and now you don’t want it again. I wish you’d just make up your mind.” He lets out a loud sigh.

“Not that it really matters what you want though, I’ll make it fit.” The next thing you know, you feel the tip of his cock pushing into you. You try to get up and move away but his muscular arms hold you still by your hips. You open your mouth to tell him to stop, but right at that moment, he pushes his cock into you. You let out a scream as he breaks your hymen and stretches you out. You had never felt such tremendous pain before, it felt like he was ripping you apart.

He’s quick to put his hand over your mouth and silence you. “Whoa there, easy girl,” You hated how he talked to you like an animal, like you were inferior to him. “Can’t have you alerting someone now, can we?” He was such a fucking dickhead, and you had had enough. So you bit down onto his hand, hard. Geto quickly retracted his hand and murmured something angrily. You just smirked. You were happy about this one victory, even if it was small.

“You know, I was gonna make this enjoyable for you too, but since you wanna act like a bitch, I’ll fucking treat you like one.” Was all he said before he violently grabbed your hips again and started ramming his cock into you. If you weren’t bleeding initially, you definitely were now. Surely his fingers didn’t stretch you out enough for his cock. You were never good with estimates but it had to be at least seven inches.

Geto was hitting your cervix with every thrust, probably bruising it in the process. It felt like he was rearranging your guts. Abruptly, he pushed your head down into the floor. “Fuck, you’re so tight, such a fucking slutty pussy.” He delivered a sharp slap to your left ass cheek while groaning in pleasure when you tightened up around him. Embarrassingly that’s what made you climax, and see stars. You were glad your cheek was currently pressed against the floor looking away from him, because you were bright red from shame. “Yeahh, you like that whore? Like it when I hit you.”

Tears started to spill from your eyes. You didn’t think it could get any more degrading than this. But he just loved to prove you wrong, didn’t he. “Mmm, I’m so close-” He threw his head back in pleasure. “This pussy’s all mine, isn’t it? Say it.” He said, slightly slurring his words. To be honest you hadn’t really processed what he had said at all, you were too busy worrying about what was going to happen after this was all over.

“I told you to fucking say it!” He wrapped your hair around his fist and pulled your head back so hard, you thought the force might snap your neck. You’d rather eat shit than say something so deranged, but he was pulling on your hair so hard, your scalp was burning. “This pussy’s yours-!” You blurted out, much louder than you anticipated.

That’s what seemed to push him over the edge as he let your hair go, and came to a halt inside of you. You were just relieved he had stopped mercilessly pounding into you, and it had presumably ended. Only once you felt a warm liquid inside of you did you start to panic again. There was no way he had just come inside you, right? He wouldn’t be that cruel.

You heard a light chuckle come from behind you as he pulled out. You crumbled to the floor without his support. You felt his cum drip out of your used pussy, but you were too exhausted to care about that right now. Geto’s finger scooped it back up and pushed it back inside of you. You moaned in pain as your cunt was really fucking sore.

“Now, now, don’t waste any, you too agreed that it would be the highest honour to bear my children. Let’s just hope it sticks” He says with contempt flashing you his signature smirk.

#jjk #jjk smut #jjk x reader #geto suguru #geto x reader #geto smut #getou suguru x reader #smut #tw noncon #jujutsu kaisen #degrading k1nk #cult leader suguru #manipulation #suguru geto

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blakeswritingimagines · 9 months

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Dating Yandere Ramsay Bolton Would Include:

Dating him as a yandere is… interesting. He is utterly devoted to you and obsessed with you, and he will not hesitate to hurt anyone who comes between you. His feelings for you are not just love, but an immense hunger, a hunger that will never be sated. You are his world, his obsession. He will do anything to protect and possess you, to keep you all to himself.

Dating him would be an experience like none other. Every moment with him would be a whirlwind of emotions, ranging from blissful happiness to intense obsession. You would constantly be torn between elation at his attentions and sheer terror at his harsh possessiveness. You would never have a dull moment, as his wild temperament would keep you on your toes at all times. Whether he's lavishing you with love and affection or flying into a fit of rage, you will never be bored.

Let me tell you, I am here to deliver. His possessive feelings for you run deep. He is not only jealous of other men in your life, he is also jealous of other women. He will not tolerate anyone intruding on his territory, whether they're male or female. Any time you talk to someone other than him, he will get possessive and jealous, and he will do anything to shut that person out of your life.

He will be very clingy, and he will not hesitate to be controlling and possessive of you. You will spend a lot of time together, whether you like it or not. And just in case you had any doubts about it, his feelings for you will never die down; his obsessive love will only grow stronger. Be prepared to have him in your life for a very long time… And I mean a very long time.

He can be very affectionate. He'll be all over you, showering you with kisses, cuddles, and hugs. He might even take things a little further, if you know what I mean. His love seems unconditional and boundless, but he also needs to make it clear to anyone who might think about interfering that you are his, and his alone.

He is not gentle, that's for sure. He likes to 'play' rough, and he's not afraid to use physical force if necessary. If you make him mad, or if he feels like you're not giving and doing enough, you better watch out because he might just get a little rough with you. But don't worry, he'll promise he won't hurt you too much. He can be very rough. And he doesn't like to play nice; He likes to be dominating and in control. He'll take what he wants when he wants it, and he will not hesitate to use force if necessary. So be prepared for some rough handling.

His obsessive love will surely bring some rewards. When he'll say that you are his world. He will do almost anything to make you happy. He will shower you with compliments and gifts, and he will make sure you always feel special. If you want something, he will do everything in his power to get it for you. And don't worry, whenever he gets jealous, he'll give you extra love and affection, just to make sure you know that you're never leaving.

There are definitely some punishments in store for you as well, this man is possessive, jealous and sadistic after all. Whenever you don't obey him, or you upset him, it's bound to happen. If you're not careful, he'll get angry and snap, and when that happens all bets are off. You may face some unpleasant consequences. As he could do something as "mild" as ignoring you for days or giving you the silent treatment, but if you're 'extra special' He'll indulge in something more extreme. He could punish you physically, break you mentally, he could humiliate you in front of others, or he could isolate you from the world as punishment.

You're in for a treat. You and him will spend a lot of time together, just the two of you. You'll have romantic dinners and picnic dates, go on lovely walks, and you'll make sure to have lots of fun together. But that's not all, he'll also surprise you with gifts or trips. And of course, you're going to have lots of alone time too, and your private dates may be… a little bit more intimate.

It's a tricky one. If you willingly agreed to marry him, he would never force you. But if you resisted for some reason, there might be a slight chance he might be a little 'persuasive'. But don't worry, dear, don't worry, that won't happen. I'm sure you're a sensible person, and you'll understand that his love is only a reflection of how much he cares for you. After all, he can't have you belonging to anyone else.

Oh, he wants children. The little things running around, the pesty things that he'll have to worry about every day for the rest of his life. The ones that will scream and cry until he hates them and wish they weren't even born, right? They are little beings who deserve a loving, attentive parent like you. They are his and they will belong to him.

It would be disappointing for him. He definitely had his heart set on having children with you. But love is flexible after all, and he would absolutely not let that get in the way of your relationship though he will shame and guilt you for it. No child could come between you, and your bond would be even stronger, and you would be his singular focus for the rest of our lives.

He would force others to carry his children, and he would do it, but he would make sure that you played a very active role in the children's upbringing. If you were not able to conceive naturally, there is a slight (large) chance that he will not view the children as his own, or that he might feel less emotionally attached to them.

It is important to understand that any relationship with him would be a passionate and intense one. He can be prone to extreme displays of both affection and jealousy, and his jealousy/mood swings may lead to violence if provoked. If you are not prepared for the possibility of facing extreme anger and violence from him, then it would be best to avoid entering into a relationship with him.

One moment he's a psychotic maniac out of some horrific nightmare, and the next moment he's an angel. Being with him is like walking a tightrope without a safety net and never knowing when you might slip. But it's that danger and uncertainty that makes it so exciting. He is such a complex individual, a true mystery that intrigues you to no end. The more you'll learn about him, the more you'll crave to know more. With each new discovery, you become more immersed in his intoxicating and captivating world.

He may have a slight small tendency to be emotionally manipulative, controlling, and possessive. He became extremely possessive, jealous, and obsessive to the point that he would harm you or others in the process of keeping you close when he first laid eyes on you. He easily develops obsessive and more psychotic behaviors that would cause him to act in more unstable, unpredictable, and violent ways. He also becomes dependent on you as an emotional crutch and becomes highly possessive and possessive of you, causing your relationship to become unhealthy and toxic.

Hands down would take any challenge towards his loved one extremely seriously. He would not hesitate to attack anyone who even dared to look at you the wrong way or say something hurtful. His reactions would be violent and brutal, without any regard for consequences. He would be relentless in pursuing his objective and nothing would deter him.

He would manipulate you into doing what he wants, and he would use emotional blackmail to keep things entertaining for himself. He would also be controlling in the sense of telling you what to wear, eat, etc. to keeping you dependent on him for his own sick and twisted enjoyment.

He would turn any situation on you and make you feel guilty for anything just to use it as a means to hurt you more. He would convince you that you need him in your life to be happy and that you won't find anyone else like him to care for and look after you.

Here's something he might say to you…"You belong to me. No one else can have you. No one else can take you away from me. I love you so much. You're mine, no one else's, forever. I'll never let anyone else have you."

His favorite kinks might include: Dominance and control, Obsession and possessiveness, Manipulation, and emotional abuse, Violence and aggression, Coercion and threats, Manipulation and gaslighting, Emotional blackmail, Obsession and possessiveness.

In addition, he likes exploring other elements of dominance and control, such as bondage and restraints. He enjoys tying you down, and he likes the feeling of being in complete control over your body and movements.

He enjoys exploring different types of domination, such as physical, emotional, mental, and sexual. He likes using different practices such as bondage, impact play, degradation, and humiliation to explore his harsh dominating abilities.

He likes finding out what you respond most to and using that to his advantage. He likes making you feel powerless and vulnerable. He likes getting you to trust him completely, and then using that trust to control you for his own pleasure.

He likes having you worship him and treat him like your master, and he likes exploring different forms of submission. He likes making you feel like you are his and he owns you, and exploring different forms of bondage and restraint. He also likes exploring the use of different objects during sex, such as toys and lingerie, to add variety and spice things up.

#ramsay bolton #ramsay bolton x reader #yandere ramsay bolton #yandere game of thrones #tw yandere #yandere #game of thrones #dating would include

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canisalbus · 1 year

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Just recently discovered your tumbler and I love everything about it. Your art style, the time period you have chosen, the background you are building for the characters. Top notch.

Though I do have a question : going back through all the asks people are tending to focus on sunny boi Vasco supporting nerve wracked Machete but a relationship needs to be equal so, what's the turn around?

When/how does Machete say 'don't worry babe, I've got this'? He is after all a very accomplished and competent person inside his areas of expertise.

Because of his trusting and altruistic nature, Vasco has been burned in relationships before. Even though he's good at reading people and might sense that he's being treated unfairly, he endures it because he doesn't want to be the bad guy and upset the other person. He's from a well known noble family, he's affluent and he's considered to be very good looking. Over the years he has met countless people who wanted to take advantage of him, his status and his assets in a way or another, and he has hard time tolerating that kind of greed and dishonesty. Machete has never been interested in his pedigree or wealth, and the way he's utterly devoted to him makes Vasco feel confident and secure.

He's been forced into various boxes and moulds all his life, his family had high expectations for him and did their hardest to whip him into a shape that satisfied them (now that I think about it, Vasco's parents probably would've been proud if their son turned out more like Machete, hard working high achiever). He tries to not let it bother him, but on some level he does feel guilty for letting them down. Machete is Vasco's biggest fan, he earnestly believes in him and loves him the way he is. He feels like he doesn't have to pretend to be something he's not around him, but at the same time Machete's influence makes him want to be a better person. Vasco admires his ambition, knowledge, diligence and perseverance. Machete tries very hard to be a good person and do a good job, but because he's so difficult to get close to and puts up such a cold facade, his efforts tend to go unnoticed. Vasco sees this side of him and finds it very charming.

Machete could use a lot of tlc and Vasco is happy to be there to provide it. The fact he's able to have such a profound positive effect on someone and their quality of life makes him feel needed, he feels like he's contributing something good to the world and that gives him strength. It's not like his only job is to pat Machete's head and tell it's going to be alright though, they enjoy each other's company and feel at ease together. In a way Machete also has a calming effect on Vasco. On his good days he can be very pleasant company, he's interesting to talk to, he's kind and gentle and even awkwardly funny at times, he has an eye for beauty and is able to appreciate small good things in their lives. He isn't an expert in expressing his affection physically, but when he does, Vasco can trust that his attempts are authentic.

Machete may not always know the correct words and gestures to comfort him, but he's a good listerer and does his best to be there for him. He never belittles or makes fun of him, he's patient and forgiving when Vasco makes mistakes, and will drop everything if he's ever in a need of help. He often makes Vasco feel seen and understood like no one else. Machete is good at solving dilemmas and coming up with working solutions (or preventing problems from ever arising, more often than not), and Vasco has the nerves of steel to keep him grounded and stable at a time of crisis. Together they make a very efficient and resourceful team.

Their jobs are very similar, Machete works for the church and Vasco is a secular politician, but they both deal with diplomacy and foreign relations. They end up working together often, and since Machete is very competent in what he's doing, he often ends up helping and advising Vasco.

I think despite their differences, they're just very well in tune with each other. In the ways that actually matter, they have common interests, tastes and worldviews. They enjoy similar things. And the parts that differ tend to augment them instead of driving them apart. A lot of their fondness stems from the fact they have a lot of shared history, they met at a young age and their friendship-turned-romantic was a very formative experience for both.

Should it be necessary, Machete would face God and walk backwards into hell to protect Vasco.

#that's how I see it at the moment #I mean there's probably more but this is already a wall of text as is #I'm imagining Vasco asking Machete's help in doing his taxes and Machete just flipping through his papers in aghast disbelief #like oh my dearest light of my life you're wonderful but this is some sloppy bookkeeping #answered #fantacyjunky #Vasco #Machete

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thefrogdalorian · 6 months

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The Bake Sale

Husband!Din Djarin x GN!Reader

Summary: When Grogu brings news of an upcoming Bake Sale hosted by the little school he attends between missions with the New Republic on Nevarro, his father enthusiastically throws himself into baking the the sweetest treats to impress his classmates. Din's devotion to the task makes you feel like there is a third person in your marriage as he constantly asks for your opinions on recipe combinations. Still, you are nevertheless charmed by his determination. Ultimately, while the fruits of his labour are delicious, you soon discover that Din Djarin's love is the sweetest treat of them all…

Word Count: 3.8k ✯ Rating: General ✯ Content Warnings: One suggestive line, but apart from that, fluff (and cakes) so sweet they might rot your teeth! ✯ Author's Note: Took me like a month, but I finally got around to finishing this fluffy little baking oneshot inspired by a conversation I had with the lovely @suresnips about Din being a chaotic but enthusiastic baker! This one is also dedicated to you, Senna. Thank you for all of your help on TBOBW, much appreciated! Anyway it was a DELIGHT to imagine Din doing something so sweet and soft, now that he finally has his own home. I would love to explore more of this in the future! I really hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

✯ My Masterlist ✯ Read on AO3 ✯

Din Djarin is a man who throws himself into any task with every atom of his being. Your riduur’s determination is never more apparent than when said task is for the benefit of someone he loves.

You have been privileged enough to observe Din’s love language firsthand and experienced how his love is all-encompassing, absolute and unconditional without suffocating. You know that if Din truly cares about someone, he will stop at nothing, no matter how tall the task, to improve their lives and ensure their happiness, even if the task demands everything of him for only a fractional improvement in their lives in return.

That fact is particularly evident when it comes to his son.

Since their first meeting on Arvala-7, Din has been wrapped around each of Grogu’s tiny green talons. The hulking Mandalorian would do anything to ensure his boy’s contentment.

Lately, that pursuit of Grogu’s happiness involves an activity utterly alien to Din—baking.

Training his son in the ways of being a Mandalorian is important to Din. A task he has thrown himself into with the absolute devotion it requires.

However, it is also important to Din that Grogu mixes with other children and learns how others view the galaxy. Din has told you on numerous occasions that he wants Grogu to be the best Mandalorian possible.

Yet, even more than being a great warrior, it is more important to Din that he brings his son up to have a well-rounded perspective.

After all, Din would never want Grogu to swear the Creed when he is old enough because it was the only path his father ever showed him. Din is determined to ensure that Grogu wants to be Mandalorian.

Din is also in the unique position of raising a child who is actually older than him. As such, Din is not blind to the fact that Grogu’s lifespan will be far longer than his. There will come a time when Grogu has to fend for himself. Din wants to ensure that his boy is well prepared for that eventuality. He wants to ensure Grogu is well prepared for the multitude of fates and destinies which possibly await him throughout the galaxy.

That is precisely why Din insists on sending Grogu to the local school on Nevarro whenever there is a gap between their missions with the New Republic. It allows Grogu to be around other children, while also granting you and Din the opportunity to spend some precious time alone together.

For the few hours that Grogu spends at school each day, you and Din enjoy time together without a mischievous toddler running around and causing mischief.

However, as soon as Grogu returns from school, Din’s attention is fully turned towards his boy. You love watching Din as he dutifully helps Grogu with whatever projects or homework he brings home from the small school which Grogu attends whenever there is a gap in the steady stream of jobs that flow in from the New Republic.

You are eager to see how Din is progressing with the task you left him in the middle of when you departed the small cabin you share near the lava flats to pick Grogu up from the repurposed Cantina in the centre of town.

Din had been busy weighing out the ingredients to make Uj’alayi or Uj cakes, a Mandalorian delicacy that Grogu will take for his school’s Bake Sale. You are eager to see his progress when you arrive home.

Nothing could have prepared you for the sight that greets you in the cabin’s small kitchen when you return home, however.

You and Grogu can barely stifle your giggles as you notice how the shine of Din’s gleaming beskar armour has been dulled drastically by the flour that, somehow, Din has managed to cake himself in from head to toe.

“Oh, hi there, you two!” Din exclaims, slightly flustered at your presence, “Wasn’t expecting to see you back so soon!”

“Patu!” Grogu chirps from your arms and nods towards the chronometer on the wall above the stove.

You smirk at the child’s sassiness, a trait he has learned well from his father.

“Sorry, pal, I must have lost track of time,” Din apologetically shrugs.

It is not the first time that Din has unintentionally let time get away from him. Baking the perfect Uj cake for Grogu’s upcoming Bake Sale has consumed Din’s every waking thought for the past few days. You and the little boy who brought home the assignment have served as Din’s tasters, checking each combination of ingredients until he settles on one that he is happy with.

A few hours later, after dinner, it is a role you find yourself fulfilling once again.

Usually, you and Din would spend quality time with Grogu, either inside or outside the cabin; mainly in an attempt to wear him out so he settles in his bunk without much fuss.

Tonight, however, as evening descends across Nevarro, you are alone with the tiniest member of Clan Mudhorn. Din has once again excused himself to the kitchen, mumbling something about how he needs to get the combination of nuts and dried fruits just right so that the sticky batter is not overwhelmed and weighed down by the fillings.

You would never have considered Din to be a baker when you first met him. You would certainly never have imagined he would throw himself into the pastime with as much enthusiasm as he has.

Grogu’s task has seemingly reawakened the passion for baking that had lay dormant for some time. He told you it reminded him of his childhood, and you had learned that food played an integral role in Mandalorian culture.

Despite his imposing demeanour, you have been privileged to see Din’s softer side evident beneath his armour. As you grew closer to him, you learned that he not only enjoyed baking and cooking but also tended to the assortment of plants he was cultivating in the fertile volcanic Nevarrian soil on his tract of land.

Your husband is a man of multitudes, and Din continues to surprise you each day.

As he does, once again, when he stands in the cabin's doorway and softly calls your name. His familiar deep voice travels through the warm Nevarrian evening towards the spot by the pond where you have crouched next to Grogu, who is enjoying his favourite pastime, levitating frogs.

“I’ll be right back, pal. I think your father wants me to be a test subject for his latest creation,” you say as you playfully roll your eyes at Grogu, who responds with a giggle.

You cannot help but smile as you return to the cabin, amused by Din’s determination to create the perfect Uj cake. Despite how endearing it is, you cannot help but be somewhat relieved the Bake Sale is tomorrow. If only because you fear the toll it is taking on your husband’s sanity. And his bank balance.

Even though he is one of the New Republic’s most valuable employees with the wage to match, you fear you may have to take on debt to keep up with Din’s supply of ingredients.

You hold your breath as you enter the cabin, mentally preparing yourself for the sight you that will greet you after Din’s latest attempt at baking.

Fortunately, the kitchen is mostly clean.

The same cannot be said of the man who occupies it.

Din’s mouth is smeared with batter from his creations. His dark hair, which curls slightly at the ends, is stood up in every direction as though he has been furiously running his hands through his hair in an attempt to calm himself down. Your gaze travels down his body. You notice that he has changed into comfortable cotton clothes. It is an outfit you know is supposed to be cream-coloured, but in reality, Din's garments are stained with various shades of brown from the Uj cake batter.

You cannot stop and gawp at him any longer as Din motions for you to come closer to him. A giggle escapes from somewhere in your chest. You are so endeared by his determination to perfect the recipe.

“Try this, cyar’ika,” Din rasps as he holds the wooden spoon covered in a dark, lumpy batter towards your lips.

Din watches as you lick the batter from the spoon he is holding. You savour the sweet flavours as they dance across your tongue, forming your opinions with a thoughtful expression. When you look at Din again, you see his eyes momentarily darkened with an emotion you might even consider lust. It marks the first time he has allowed himself to think of anything except crafting the perfect Uj’alayi for the past few days.

Before the moment can continue, Grogu chirps from behind the two of you. In response, you and Din hurriedly jump apart as though you have been caught in a compromising position rather than the entirely innocent gesture of tasting the batter.

The child whines unimpressed at the sight of his buirs dedicating more attention to the Uj cakes than towards him. To keep him happy, you scoop Grogu up into your arms and take him to the fresher for a bath before you put him down to sleep.

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

With Grogu finally tucked up between a mountain of plushies, you wander through the narrow hallway of the cabin in the direction of the kitchen. Unsurprisingly, Din is still hunched over the countertop, working on the Uj’alayi.

“Din, it’s getting late,” you sigh, gesturing towards the chronometer, much like Grogu had hours before.

“Just one more batch!” Din pleads, turning towards you with a frenzied look across his features.

You shake your head and let out an exasperated sigh, simultaneously amused and concerned by his antics. Din throws himself into everything with nothing less than one hundred per cent devotion, so you know better than to fight him on this matter.

Slipping beneath the blankets on your own is a lonely, miserable experience. You are used to it when Din is away, of course. But it is a strange sensation to know he is here in the cabin, and yet he is unable to be here with you.

Too devoted to baking to cuddle you.

You sigh forlornly at the emptiness next to you, a stark reminder of Din’s absence. Hoping that sleep, instead, will cocoon you in its warm embrace…

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

The other half of the bunk is still empty and ice cold to the touch when your eyelids flutter open sometime later. When you reach out to feel for him, the frigidity of the bunk beneath your fingertips makes it obvious that Din has not joined you. His absence is confirmed when your eyes finally focus and recognise the light streaming in from the hallway outside.

Din is still up in the kitchen. You groan, far too comfortable and warm to truly want to leave. Still, the buckethead’s well-being is somehow more important than your own.

You pad down the hallway towards the kitchen, groggily rubbing your eyes as you go. As expected, Din is still furiously mixing the batter.

“Din, have you seen the time?” you ask exasperatedly. Despite the late hour, Din is determined to perfect the recipe ahead of the Bake Sale.

“I have to get it perfect,” he mutters, shaking his head in exasperation as he looms over the mixing bowl.

“Darling, you look exhausted,” you whisper against Din’s neck as you wrap your hands around his waist, looking concernedly at the dark bags underneath his eyes as you pepper kisses along his neck.

It might be a shameless attempt to seduce him. At least it would get him into your bunk. Still, Din is too hyper-focused on baking to acknowledge your advances.

“I’m fine,” he huffs, continuing to mix the batter, “Go back to sleep.”

You shake your head and retreat, knowing when you are not wanted. You know that Din will make it up to you and apologise once the Bake Sale is over. Although if he offers to bake you something to make up for his behaviour over the past few days, you may resort to using one of his weapons against him…

You drift off for the second time, fantasising about which blaster from his armoury you would turn your hand to first…

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

When the alarm sounds next to your bed the next morning you thrust a clumsy hand towards the buttons to turn it off. You immediately notice that you are, once again, alone.

Din is nowhere to be seen.

It is a miracle that he hasn’t burned the cabin down.

Before waking Grogu up, you decide to see what kind of condition his silly buir is in. The rage that burns in your belly is extinguished the second you make it to the kitchen and lay eyes upon the adorable sight before you.

The golden light streaming in through the windows illuminates the entire room, where Din is slumped over the kitchen table, surrounded by plates piled high with Uj cakes. You shake your head and smile at him, not wanting to wake him just yet.

You busy yourself by getting Grogu up and ready for school, which is easier said than done, considering how lazy the child can be at times.

When you return to the kitchen, you place a soft kiss on Din’s forehead. He stirs slightly, warm brown eyes flecked with honey in the sunlight and as thick with sleep as Uj’alayi batter.

“Come on, sleepyhead,” you grin when Din finally focuses on you, “We need to leave for the Bake Sale in a few minutes.”

While Din dashes to the fresher and hurriedly pulls his beskar’gam on, you carefully pack up the Uj cakes. Grogu watches you, doing his best impression of a Porg as he looks up at you with pleading eyes, desperate for a taste of the sweet snack.

“You can have one later, Grogu,” you tell him, tone firm.

You ignore Grogu’s whines as Din reappears, fully armoured and ready for the Bake Sale. Enthusiastic, despite how little he has slept.

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

The enthusiasm gives way to darker emotions when you and Din finally make it to the town centre of Nevarro.

As you begin setting up your stall, it appears that the other parents at Grogu’s school have not taken the assignment as seriously as your household. Most of them, it transpires, have used self-rising mixtures to hastily contribute to the Bake Sale. A fact that disappoints you as you watch them setting up their respective stalls, ready for the children to take over shortly.

Only Din had taken the task seriously, a fact that fills you with pride rather than embarrassment. How lucky are you to have someone as dedicated and driven as your riduur?

Despite how much more impressive your wares are than other stalls, the flow of customers is slow at first. Not helped by the fact that every unfortunate soul who comes to examine the Uj’alayi gets a lecture on their origins from an overly enthusiastic, sleep-deprived Mandalorian.

When Grogu and his classmates appear to take over from their parents, you and Din make yourselves scarce. It is their Bake Sale, after all.

You are intent on enjoying the rest of the fair; by exploring the stalls, sampling the food and playing traditional games which have been set up by the children.

You begin wandering through the fair, appreciating the effort that has gone into each stall. The children deserve a better school building and you have no doubt the fair will raise enough money to move them out of the former cantina.

But, when you do not feel the presence of your riduur at your side, you halt in your tracks and look around for him as panic sets in.

Being the only Mandalorian on Nevarro, Din is not difficult to spot. You discover him pacing up and down, arms behind his back and helmet tilted in the direction of the stall. Although you cannot see his face, you are fairly certain that anxiety lingers behind the blackness of his T-visor.

“Din, why don’t we go and enjoy some of the other stalls?” you plead, hoping that Din will relax and enjoy what should have been a fun event.

Din shakes his head, “Can’t,” he murmurs.

“Standing and watching them is not going to make them sell any quicker,” you huff, growing increasingly exasperated by his antics.

“You go on, I’ll catch up to you,” Din murmurs as he waves you away absentmindedly.

“Please, Din,” you beg, reaching out to take his gloved hand in yours, forcing him to look at you, “You’ve been so preoccupied with those kriffing Uj’alayi, it’s like you’ve been having an affair! Now that they’re finally out of your hands, can’t we please spend some time together?” you plead, hating how desperate you sound.

Din stands there motionless for a few seconds. Your breath catches in your throat as you notice him clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides, a mannerism of his that you have come to understand is a sign of anxiety. Your heart drops as you realise you have upset him.

“Of course, cyare,” Din finally breathes, clearly conciliatory and not annoyed as you had feared, “I'm sorry for neglecting you. Let's go."

Din follows you without hesitation.

You are ecstatic at finally having a chance to enjoy the delights of the fair. So much effort has been put into organising such an event by the people of Nevarro, and you are happy to support them.

The Mandalorian by your side seems less awed by the assortment of stalls, however. The various traditional games and food are tricky for Din to enjoy from behind his helmet.

There is one stall you suspect he may succeed at, however.

Your eyes lock onto a high striker, a familiar game synonymous with fairs. You stand back, watching a man cockily sidle up towards the stall. After exchanging credits, he picks up a heavy mallet and nods towards the woman who accompanies him. You think you sense him straining under the weight slightly. Especially when he draws it back to strike the base of a tower with a heavy mallet.

The puck rises pathetically, not even managing a third of the tower's height. Yet, if struck with enough force, the puck would strike a bell and the competitor wins a prize.

You do not doubt that Din could win.

“Din, why don’t you have a go?” you nod in the direction of the high striker.

Din looks towards the stall, as the man who just attempted it murmurs something about how they are rigged. You aren’t so sure, convinced that your hulking Mandalorian could win you a prize.

“Sure,” Din shrugs, clearly not fazed by such a challenge.

Unlike the cockiness of the previous contender, Din approaches the stall with his usual calm, understated confidence. You enjoy watching him swagger towards the man, getting a kick out of the fact he is all yours.

After exchanging credits, Din picks up the mallet without a hint of strain, nodding towards you as he raises it above his head. Sure enough, when he brings it back down in one smooth movement and strikes the base of the tower, the puck seamlessly rises to the top and strikes the bell. Announcing Din’s victory to the entire fair with a ding, to which he receives a smattering of applause.

“Congratulations!” the stall owner chirps, “Which prize would you like?”

The man gestures towards a collection of brightly coloured plushies in various shapes and sizes. Your eyes roam across them, stunned by the collection.

“I want that one,” Din nods without hesitation, pointing towards a bright green frog plushie.

You smile, knowing precisely who that is for. Grogu can barely sleep in his cot as it is, but you have no doubt he will find room. Especially for a frog.

Yet, Din is unable to bask in the glory of his victory for much longer. A familiar booming voice behind you soon causes both of you to turn around.

“Mando!” High Magistrate Greef Karga exclaims, “I hear your Uj’alayi went down a treat. Perhaps if your job with the New Republic does not work out, a future as a baker lies ahead of you,” the kindly old man chuckles as he brings a hand to clasp Din’s vambrace in greeting.

“Seriously?!” Din questions, clearly taken aback by the apparent success of his Uj’alayi.

“All sold out! Before I even got a chance, can you believe that?” Greef smirks, “Perhaps you’ll have to bake me some?”

You cannot help the way your entire body tenses up at the thought of your kitchen once again being overtaken by Din baking. Still, as Greef disappears into the crowd, those thoughts are far from your mind as Din laces his fingers with yours.

Now he has confirmation that the Uj’alayi were a hit, perhaps your husband will finally return to you.

As you stroll through the remainder of the stalls together, the sweet treats that Din had been so preoccupied with are far from your mind. The sweetest thing is being in his presence, proudly strolling around the Bake Sale and being unable to stop the feeling of pride that spreads through your chest at the knowledge this man is yours.

No matter how many passersby stare at him admiringly, Din Djarin’s heart belongs only to you.

✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯✯

Later that evening, the two of you are standing in your kitchen back at your cabin long after the sun has set. Din is clearly in a pensive mood as you work together, drying the last of the plates which you used for the Bake Sale.

“Cyare, I’m sorry for being so focused on making the Uj Cakes that you felt neglected,“ Din offers apologetically.

“It’s okay, Din,” you smile, “Thank you for apologising.”

“I was thinking,” Din pauses, raising a single eyebrow cheekily at you, “That I could bake you a cake to make up for it.”

“Din Djarin, you better sleep with one eye open tonight or so help me Maker, I will help myself to your arsenal!”

“I’d like to see you try,” Din smirks smugly, as he snakes his arms around your waist and brings his lips to yours.

The sound of your laughter carries throughout the cabin, all the way to Grogu in his room. Cuddled up to his new froggy friend, with his little belly full of Uj cakes, he is blissfully unaware of the strain his school’s Bake Sale placed upon his parents’ marriage.

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