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bachiras-toaster · 8 months

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our girlfriend : ̗̀➛

RYOMEN SUKUNA x f!reader x YUJI ITADORI

wc: 2.4k

cw: somnophilia, sukuna and itadori fighting over control of itadori’s body, voyeurism? sukuna fucks the reader while itadori watches, sukuna’s dirty, dirty thoughts… yuji is of age

Yuji had been fighting a demon. A literal demon.

Yuji was never afraid to admit how much he loved you. He adored being close to you and never wanted to spend a single second outside of your presence, and this included during times like sleeping. He had completely lucked out when it came to his relationship with you and loved it when you stayed the night in his room to simply watch movies before dozing off in his arms. In the purest of ways, Yuji Itadori loved sleeping with you.

However, tonight seemed to be a little different. The atmosphere was warmer, the room was quieter, and all in all, it just left someone with the perfect opportunity to take advantage of the situation that they were in.

Being the big spoon, Yuji had always slept with your back facing his stomach and his arms wrapped around your waist. It made him feel closer to you and it meant that he could bury his face in the gap between the back of your head and your spine. Although, it seemed that you had gotten a little too close for comfort tonight with your body shifting minor amounts in your sleep, causing your ass to grind gently against his crotch as your snored softly through your pleasant dreams. This had usually never been a problem for Yuji and he never ever minded whenever you moved against him, but tonight, it was someone else who took the initiative to make the move.

He tried to fight back, really fight back, to prevent Sukuna from taking over his form, but it was no use. He felt weaker in his tired state, yet awake enough to want to keep Sukuna from doing anything stupid, especially to his girlfriend. It was like he was battling the worst of his nightmares, all while he was still very wide awake.

He tried his best not to shift against you, praying that you wouldn’t wake up, as he screamed at Sukuna in his own mind for even thinking of doing something so wrong ans perverted. Although, the taboo of it all was what enticed Sukuna in the first place. That, and the fact that you just felt so good when you grinded up against him like that. He couldn’t help but think these awful thoughts, after all, he had never been able to take over Yuji while the two of you… Did anything.

Eventually, Yuji had lost the fight against Sukuna, which allowed him full control over his body. Though tonight, he had no murderous intention on his mind, no thought to kill or slaughter any woman or child. No. This time, his head was caught up with feelings of pure lust, which was arguably even worse to Yuji as it meant that he was surrendering his body to allow some monster to violate his girlfriend without her knowing. It didn’t stop him from yelling at Sukuna from the back of his mind, but king of curses was surprisingly good at ignoring all cries for attention and pleas from the man of the body in which he had stolen.

Sukuna, still laying behind you, slowly ran his hand up your shirt until his palm was able to cup a handful of your breast in his palms. The wicked smile that appeared on his lips as he steadily shifted up from his position to look over your slumber form was one that displayed pure evil. Yuji couldn’t help but watch from his own eyes as Sukuna’s fingernails gently tugged at the hem of your shirt to pull it over your chest to reveal you soft tits to his lustful eyes.

“We have such a pretty girlfriend, don’t we, Itadori?” Sukuna grinned as he settled his hands on your plush thighs, which had barely been covered by your short pyjama bottoms. The sound of Sukuna addressing you as their shared girlfriend was enough to make Yuji’s blood run cold with anger and frustration at the fact that he was still trapped behind the screen of his eyes, not being able to so anything but watch.

“If you don’t stop touching her I’ll drag you back here and kick your ass myself!” Yuji yelled inside his own head, causing Sukuna to chuckle softly.

“I’d like to see you try that.” He simply let out as he began dragging your shorts down, your panties going down with them. “It’d give me some entertainment seeing you try to fight back as I have my turn with our girlfriend.”

“Stop calling her ‘our’ girlfriend! She’s mine, not yours!” Yuji shouted, almost breathlessly as he fought endlessly for control again, to no avail.

“Stop being so selfish. Just give me twenty minutes, at least.” Sukuna’s grin had faded and his eyes darkened at the sight of your pussy on display to him after he had dragged your shorts and panties down to your ankles. “You’ve had her to yourself all this time. It’s time you learn how to share.”

Sukuna promptly ignored Yuji’s helpless and frustrated cries as he pushed down his sweatpants and boxers just slightly to allow his erection to spring forward. Unfortunately, even though Yuji himself felt no lustful thoughts, Sukuna had control over his body, which meant that his dick was now hardened just at the sight of his girlfriend’s sleeping beauty.

As he held your legs slightly further apart, he watched the space between your cunt and his cock with extreme focus as he lined himself up between your thighs before pushing himself in slowly, forcing a short grunt to fall off of his lips. His eyebrows widened as he felt himself push further inside of you and his eyes quickly darted to your face to see that you were still sound asleep- No reaction whatsoever. Seeing that you could still snore through the situation, that dark smirk creeped up onto Sukuna’s lips.

“Fast asleep and she still takes us so well.” He groaned in a humoured tone as he began to shift his hips back and forth, drawing his cock in and out of your pussy. “Never before did I think that it would feel this good to be inside our girlfriend while I’m in control.”

His hips began to buck into you at a steady pace now, the sound of the bed creaking and skin slapping against each other as well as Sukuna’s low grunts filled the room. He was admittedly a little disappointed that he wasn’t able to hear the same loud moans and calls for his name the same way he could hear them when you had sex with Yuji, but it was still just as good to be in this position. There were faint whimpers that danced into his ear as his cock found your g-spot every time- Must’ve been from you subconsciously feeling the sensation in your dream.

Sukuna’s hands greedily gripped at your thighs, your waist- Wherever he could see that he could touch. He was really taking advantage of the moment where he saw fit and pawing at any bit of plush skin that he could find as he drove his cock into you.

The clenching of your gummy walls around his veiny cock was enough to make Sukuna go wild. Although he was technically fucking you with Yuji’s dick inside his body, it was all the same to him. He could still feel that pleasurable sensation, the feeling of his climax building up after about fifteen minutes of pure euphoria as he pounded into your sweet pussy.

“If this is how it feels, it makes me question why you’re so reluctant to touch her this way more often.” Sukuna growled hungrily as his thrusting began to grow even more violent as his palms squeezed both of your thighs on either side of his hips. “Doesn’t she look so helpless? I know you have the strength to pin her down and fuck her whenever you want to, so why don’t you?” His eyes trailed your stomach before going back up to your silent face. “If it were me in control 24/7, then she wouldn’t even get a chance to say no before I have her underneath me.”

That one line caused Yuji to let out another mental scream of anguish as he felt like punching a hole in his own mind. He couldn’t believe that this was really a situation that he was watching right now. It was like watching another man having his way with the person he loved.

“Fuck…” Sukuna laughed out as he lifted his head a little rewards the ceiling, chuckling huskily as the feeling of adrenaline washed over him. “It’s even better when she doesn’t fight back.”

“You’ve had enough time, now let her go!” Yuji pleaded.

“You’re too gentle with her.” Sukuna interrupted, once again ignoring Yuji’s attempts at trying to reason with the disgraced one. “Asking her if ‘this is okay’ and being overall really soft with her like she’s a piece of glass. How does it not drive you wild? How have you never had the urge to just do whatever you liked with her without asking if she’s okay with it first?”

“Because consent is important and I care about how she feels!” Yuji spat out. “Surrender your body back to me now!”

“I haven’t even gotten to the good bit yet though…” Sukuna smirked, obviously referring to the opportunity he’s about to get to cum inside of you. There was a sort of madness that sparked within Yuji after hearing that, now even more than there had been since this whole thing started.

Wanting to reach that high even quicker, Sukuna picked up the pace and pounded himself now even more desperately into you. Watching your breasts bounce up and down as his cock slid easily in and out of your soaking cunt, it made him wish that the moment could last forever. He felt at a pure high in the situation he was in and it made him genuinely consider forcibly switching out with Yuji whenever he liked simply to have his way with you more often without being fought on it.

You probably wouldn’t understand what was going on if it happened, and you would just think that Yuji was a little more hornier and touchier than usual if Sukuna felt like fucking you, but that made the idea sound even better to him. If Sukuna could simply swap out with Yuji and get to fuck you while you simply complied thinking it was your loving boyfriend, then that practically gave Sukuna all of the freedom in the world— And it excited him. He never truly understood how beneficial it was to him that Yuji had a girlfriend until now.

Sukuna could feel the sensation building up in his balls, and he was just seconds away from release. He gripped onto your hips tightly and licked his lips in anticipation, waiting for the graceful moment to arrive.

However, he was eventually met with disappointment as Yuji had finally won his body back from Sukuna.

As soon as the mental marks of Sukuna’s presence over his body had faded away, Yuji immediately pulled out of your body. Unfortunately though, he immediately felt the effects of being denied his own orgasm, which admittedly caused his to whine at the fact that he couldn’t cum. Though, it was more of a loss to Sukuna who had been so close to releasing his cum inside of your pussy and admiring you as you slept soundly with your cunt leaking with his seed.

But Yuji spared no moment to try and go back as if nothing happened, trying desperately to suppress the memory of that moment and the view of Sukuna forcefully fucking you in your sleep.

He swiftly grabbed at your shorts and panties to pull them back up the where they were before and lower your shirt once again in a gentle manner to cover the parts of you that had been exposed to Sukuna just moments prior. As he also tried tried to stuff his erection back into his pants, he felt himself groan with frustration as he saw that he was still hard, despite having his body taken over by the lustful one. He supposed it was because he was feeling the after effects of orgasm denial and the fact that he was still knelt hovering above his girlfriend, but there was no way that he was going to take advantage of you the same way that Sukuna did.

Though, as he shifted slowly to make his way off the bed with the intention to go to the bathroom and get rid of his boner himself, he felt your palm latch onto his wrist and prevent him from leaving. It had seemed that you had just woken up, completely unaware of the fact that Yuji and Sukuna had just previously been fighting for control over your body and just knowing that you had woken up to see your boyfriend with a tent at his crotch.

“Yuji, if you felt that way, why didn’t you wake me up?” You softly smiled at him, your eyelids still half-closed from just waking up as you gestured towards his erection.

He gasped and stared back at you with surprised and widened eyes as he saw that he had woken you up with all the moving. His face flushed with a bit of embarrassment.

“I just… Didn’t want to disturb you.” Yuji gulped.

“So you were just going to leave and take care of it yourself?” You pretended to frown as you pulled him back against the pillows of the bed. “That’s what I’m here for, right?” You hummed softly against his ear as you very steadily went to climb on top of his lap, straddling him.

Although it was completely consensual now and Yuji did at least want his boner to be taken care of, he hated that Sukuna could still watch from behind his eyes, especially after what he had done to you.

As your hands slowly roamed his hips and stomach before grabbing at the waistband of his sweatpants to pull them down once again to free his pulsing cock, Sukuna watched with clear, dirty intent from the back of Yuji’s mind, wondering if there was ever another perfect time to jump in again and take the pleasurable moment all for himself.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader smut #jjk x reader #yuji itadori #yuji itadori x reader #yuji itadori x reader smut #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader smut #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader smut #yuji itadori x you

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joshsbimbo · 4 months

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night out

part two ♡ part three

pairing: stalker! mike schmidt x victim! reader

warnings: DARK TOPICS, stalking, obsession, mike’s a cuck, c(nc), alcohol, unconscious, not remembering what happened the night before

a/n: i’m scared to post thjs

♡ parties were never mike’s thing. he hated getting wasted, having no idea where he was, meeting and talking to new people, but you didn’t. he had to keep you safe- i mean, you were his sweet girl. ever since he seen you in the mall, carrying around bags as your dickhead boyfriend groped you in front of everyone, he had the urge to protect you. mike hissed through his teeth, not able to believe a pretty girl like you was holding hands with a man that’s constantly bringing his little girlfriends here.

♡ he promised himself to tell you, but watching your ass in those tiny shorts, getting squeezed and your pretty lips swollen by the man’s rough kiss made mike feel fuzzy. he tries to hide his bulge, but it’s so fucking hard when he’s pretending he’s the one with the cute girlfriend. buying her gifts when he could barely afford rent. he fucking sucked at talking to girls, especially ones like you. every time you walked around the mall you wore the nicest outfits, swayed your hips, almost as if you were teasing him.

♡ mike’s mind was intoxicated with you. constantly checking up on you whether it was through your twitter or window. he just wanted to know you were okay. you kept talking about how much you hated men, how hurt you were — actually “hurr”… the amount of typos led him to believe you were drunk. he was too busy to see his princess, but when he checked your location and saw you were in bum fuck nowhere, he knew he had to drop everything to check up on his girl. which is why he’s holding a beer at a party that he was not invited to, but the people were so shit faced that they didn’t care.

♡ men kept returning to you, handing you drink after drink. after the fourth one, you were feeling so wasted. a man had his hands all around you, not noticing mike’s glare. he barged in and quickly created space between the two of you, noting that you would be too drunk to notice him. such a pretty girl shouldn’t let men touch her so inappropriately, especially when she has a boyfriend.

♡ an alive boyfriend, anyway. he gripped your wrist, dragging you away from the dance floor. “f’… off, man!” you slurred out. you were beyond pissed already. your boyfriend has been ghosting you for weeks out of no where. posted a pic in the middle of la, coke on the coffee table, and a slut in the background. how could he??? whatever, the dick wasn’t good anyway.

♡ “let’s get you home, y/n.” his grip on your wrist tighter, his other hand around your waist to help you outside. you were stumbling in your heels, your makeup runny, and your hair a mess. you were as fucked up as you looked.

♡ “who.. the fuck do you t.. think you are, anyway?” you stammered out, trying to get away from his touch. your pretty head’s too fuzzy to realize he knew your name, when you had no recollection of this man.

♡ he ignored you as he opened the door to his truck, lifting you into the back seat. he shuts the door before going around the pickup, entering the driver’s seat. you try to open the door, but it won’t budge, no matter how many times you unlock and lock the car door. “i’m not telling you my address!!!” you declare, holding your hand up in a fist drunkenly.

♡ “put your seatbelt on.”

♡ “make me.”

♡ he turns around in his seat, glaring at you. you let out a small whimper before buckling your seatbelt. usually you’re so bratty, especially to men. not letting them have their way, always making them think they do. but you were wasted and mike’s glare was stomach churning, nothing like other men have given you. you knew his intentions were far away from pure, especially when he was picking up a drunk defenseless girl into his truck without your consent. you would giggle right at their faces, but you had a feeling in your gut to run far away from this man.

♡ now here you two are, your knight in shining armor and his princess, driving back to your place. you were too messed up to notice the lack of gps, lack of hesitation after every turn, how he knew the shortcut to your house. he parked next to your car. “good girl, always call an uber if you’re going to be this fucked up.”

♡ you wince at the bluntness of his words, shaking, not knowing nor understanding what was happening. what worsened the pit in your gut was him carrying you inside your home, not bothering to dig in your purse for your keys because he already had a copy. carrying you tightly as he entered your bedroom. he never hesitated, only when he touched you, but he knew exactly what and where everything was.

♡ he carefully laid you on your bed, your eyes spinning as he rummaged through your dresser. mumbling about where his favorite set was before taking out a pajama set. all he wanted to do was take out a lingerie set, but he wanted you to fall asleep in something comfy, not something for him.

♡ you stared at him, not completely understanding what was happening, but knowing that you feared him. “what..” is all you could mumble before your eyes went shut, your four drinks finally taking its full effect.

♡ he carefully unzips your dress, something he always dreamed of doing while his hand was deep inside his boxers. his cock was leaking pathetically ever since he saw you grinding against those men, wishing that he were them. he shifted his shameful member, telling himself he’s doing this because he cares about you- not about his dick.

♡ he shimmies you out of the dress, the lack of undergarments making his breath hitch and his cock twitch. i swear, if this was a normal slumber and not because you drank too much, you would wake up from how loud he was breathing. his eyes staring at your nude, unconscious body in disbelief. he jacked off to candid pics of you changing, but it felt so different being so close to you.

♡ he knows he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help it. just one picture, maybe two,,, fuck, he needed more. he pressed play, leaning his camera close to your cute, unconscious face. angling it down to capture your breasts, his thick fingers twisting your nipple. you couldn’t react if you wanted to, but that didn’t stop him from groping you. fondling your tits as he continues to film, his poor cock so hard and leaking.

♡ he leans in and captures a bud in his mouth, rolling his tongue over it as he forgets about the camera for a moment. enjoying the taste of your skin on his taste buds. he could only wish for this, savoring the taste of the receipt you dropped the last time you were at the mall. but now, he’s trying to fit as much as he can as he sucks pathetically. moaning and flicking his tongue around your nipple, gently nibbling at it before moving to the side of your breast.

♡ as he stated again and again, he knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t help himself. sucking hickeys all around your chest, his hand stroking his thick and hard cock as he laid beside you. his head laying on your stuffed animals as he painted your body, with hickeys and his cum. it was an accident, he swears, but he couldn’t stop.

♡ he picks up the camera again, showing the hickeys he littered all over your pretty skin. it was meant to be just one, but he wanted you to know he was there.

♡ his hand and camera went lower, spreading your legs gently. he leaned in and inhaled your musky scent, his cock still hardened despite him cumming just moments ago. he leaned back to spread your lips, drooling at the sight of your folds and clit.

♡ he tried to capture him tasting your pretty pussy for the first time, his tongue slowly lapping at your clit. he pathetically grinded against your bed as he ate you out, your stuffed animal holding his phone up as he lapped up your juices. swallowing all around, looking up as if you could look into his pathetic puppy eyes, his cock twitching for more than the boxers that restricted it.

♡ he pulled away, a string of saliva connecting his pretty lips from your wet folds. getting up to palm his bulge as he looked down at you, feeling at peace with you. wanting- needing to be inside of you. he spit on his finger, entering it inside of you as he pulled his boxers fully down.

♡ his eyes never left you, even when he was trying his hardest to enter inside of you, he kept looking at your pretty face. even when he kept fumbling, missing your hole again and again, he couldn’t stop staring at you. soon his cock tried to slip inside, he spat at it, trying to thrust into you. his hips needily grinding against you. he knew this was wrong. he knew you couldn’t do anything, but he couldn’t help it. his princess was finally in his vicinity, his to decorate, his.

♡ his cock slipping in and out of you, your walls enough to give him pure bliss. he didn’t even think to wish for you to tighten around him. he was already so happy that he was finally inside of you. pictures did not do your perfect body justice. the way you’re sprawled out for him made him go insane. he no longer had to scroll and scroll through his phone to find the perfect angle of you. he just needed to move your limp body as he desires. he kept your hair from your face, wanting to see it as he took advantage of you. it’s technically not wrong because you’re his!!! always been his since he laid eyes on you, even if you never found out!!

♡ his eyes were so hazy, he couldn’t believe he was about to do this. groping you as his hips became sloppier, drooling a gross amount, running down his chin, his heart beating so hard from being so infatuated with you for so long, savoring the feeling of being inside of you, so intimate…

♡ he should pull out, he really should, he knew you weren’t on birth control; he knew you never let men cum inside of your temple even if they promised to pay for the pill. he just couldn’t help himself. his mind fuzzy and he holds his breath, his toes curling, his hands gripping onto you so hard that he’s shocked you’re not a bit awake, groaning loudly, sweating profusely…

♡ “gonna m’… make you a… ah.. mhm.. a pretty momma.. fill you up..” he groans, cumming deep inside of you. his precious doll filled with his babies made his brain spin. he felt like he had died when he pulled out. your pussy leaking with his cum, picking up the camera to show the beautiful scene. his mouth agape, not believing that this was real life. he stared at you for a while, before cleaning you up.

♡ spreading your lips to make sure the evidence of his seed was gone, crossing his fingers that you wouldn’t go to cvs tomorrow. wiping the dried remnant from your chest. he was so gentle with his darling; you were going to carry his kids after all.

♡ he changed you into his favorite pajama set of yours, white with pink hearts and silky. after he closed your dresser, he snatched one of your panties from the dirty laundry bin. sniffing it before tucking it into his pocket.

♡ he admired your body before tucking you in, kissing your forehead and whispering “good night, my love.”

♡ “what kinda night did i have?” you giggle as you admire the hickeys on your chest

i hope you liked this <3 make sure to practice self care!

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x reader smut #josh futturman #josh hutcherson #josh futterman x reader smut #josh futturman x reader #lamb writes

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melrodrigo · 3 months

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Secrets - Cairo Sweet

Cairo Sweet x Reader

Summary: Cairo comes to you after she has her first big heartbreak, but finds something other than comfort.

Warnings: (teeny) underage drinking, Cairo has a lot of mood swings, it eventually ends happy!

A/n: Not sure if I hate this but a cairo fic as promised! enjoy <3

When Cairo told you about her crush on Mr.Miller, you were (rightfully) disgusted. He was at least twice her age, a teacher, and wasn’t even that hot.

You thought maybe it was something silly, a joke if you will, to humor you on a particularly boring school day.

But over the weeks, things changed. It was subtle, but not enough for your keen eye to miss. Something in Cairo’s eyes sparkled, a look you’ve never seen from her before.

She would gush about him after class, and during she would stare at him, blatantly, open with her intentions. It was hard for you to watch.

But the worst thing? He stared back.

Weeks of weird sexual tension and seeing them outside of school, you’d grown more and more sick at the thought that this could be real.

Something people needed to know about Cairo was that she was a dreamer. She might seem realistic on the surface, but secretly, deep deep down, she yearned for that fantasy love she was always writing about.

You could kinda understand the appeal, you guess. An older man, a writer. Still, that didn’t stop it from leaving a bitter taste in your mouth.

So when she came bursting through your door two weeks later sobbing, you hadn’t known that you would realize there might’ve been something else holding you back from being so supportive of her actions.

The minute you’d opened the door she came rushing into your arms. You wrapped her up, rubbed her back as she calmed down.

“Please don’t cry.” You told her, in a way that Cairo felt wasn’t ignorant but comforting. Like you cared so much about her if she cried it might tear your heart apart. The way you were looking at her in that moment, she couldn’t help herself from wondering if maybe you did care for her as more than friends.

You were certainly the character. Her attractive, sweet, considerate friend. The complete opposite from Winnie. More reserved and a poet at heart. Really, she’d never kissed a girl, but she definitely wouldn’t have a problem kissing you.

Before she knows it, or before she can stop herself, she’s tilting her face up and grabbing your hair towards her. The moment your lips touch it’s fire.

She catches the sight of your surprised face for a second before you close your eyes and surge forward, with more weight than she would’ve expected. A weight that’s not at all unwelcome.

The more the kiss escalates the more she feels like needs more. It’s primal. The pure lust she’s feeling.

Her hands tangle in your hair, yours in hers. She leans in to press her body against yours, desperately seeking more skin-on-skin contact.

You happily let her do so, mind foggy with lust and her and her and her.

“Cairo.” You groan into her mouth, unbelieving that this is really happening.

She gives you no indication that she hears it, only takes that opportunity to slip her tongue in, breathing heavily.

It feels so good, and her scent fills your nostrils. The smell you love so much, something of a mix of pinewood and cinnamon.

But there’s something else- a sour smell that’s so strong it almost burns.

You realize all at once what it is. Alcohol. How you didn’t notice it before on her breath was a wonder. It’s enough to break you out of your trance.

“Cairo.” You say, more forcefully this time, pulling away and pushing her down onto the side of your bed.

She whips her head around, confusion and hurt so clear on her face you feel yourself crumble a little.

“What?” She asks, eyes glazing over. There’s conviction in her tone. You know she gets like this, defensive, when she gets hurt. Your eyes widen at the realization of what you just did.

“Oh- no,no,no. I didn’t mean it like that.” You blubber, trying to fix things before she misunderstands. She stares at you hard, squinting slightly.

“You’re drunk Cairo, you don’t mean any of this.” You say, hoping she’ll come to her senses and agree with you.

Even though this is a dream come true, you don’t want to ruin your friendship for one night of bliss. Not to mention she’s drunk, a good deal so, and it would just leave you feeling dirty.

“I’m drunk but I’m very much aware of what I’m doing. What, you think just cuz i’m intoxicated I’ll fuck anyone?” She hisses, inching closer to you, menacing despite her small frame.

You gulp. “That’s not what I said.”

It comes out in a weak mumble. Cairo rolls her eyes. Her annoyance fires up something in you, and this time you speak stronger.

“You know that’s not what I meant. You’re drunk, I don’t want to take advantage of you. Even if you want to now, how am I gonna know you won’t regret it later?” You say, watching as Cairo gets so close to you that you’re face to face.

“I’m not going to regret it.” She slurs, wrapping a hand around your neck and pulling.

You resist, but she doesn’t care. Her grip tightens until she’s pulling slightly at your hair. You tell her to stop once but it falls on deaf ears.

“Cairo I’m serious. You’re hurting me.” You plead again, and the voice crack that leaves your lips seem to be the thing that brings her back to life. She blinks once, twice, the brown returning back to her doe eyes slowly but surely.

She retracts, pulling her hands back and looking embarrassed.

“I’m sorry.” She says, bottom lip quivering. You stay silent, unsure of what to do.

“Y/n I’m really sorry.” She says again, eyes sorrowful.

The mood swings on this girl, you secretly think.

You take her hand in yours, and look into her eyes. You know she’s telling the truth, you know all her tells. The slight quiver of her eyebrow, the way she plays with the nape of her neck. She means her apology.

You sigh tiredly.

“It’s okay, really. Let’s just talk about this later when you’re sober, alright?” You suggest gently, watching her nod her head carefully.

“How about you sleep on my bed today hm? I’ll sleep on the floor. I don’t want you going home in this state.” You prod, and when she agrees, you move her, softly like you’re handling something that might break at any moment. You settle her onto your bed and under the covers.

“Y/n?” She calls out when you’re fluffing your extra pillows to prepare for your bed on the floor, voice already sounding sleepy. You hum in response.

“Will you sleep next to me? I promise I won’t pull anything again.” And the way she says it, you know you could never be able to deny.

You wordlessly slip in beside her, suddenly rigid with nerves. The feelings you were feeling when she first came in were returning. Could it be that you liked Cairo?

The quiet atmosphere doesn’t help with your swimming thoughts. You don’t think you’ll be able to sleep much next to her, you feel a little tingly all around.

A couple minutes pass by and when you’re sure you’ve heard Cairo start snoring, you try and step out the covers, desperate for some relief of your wildly beating heart.

An arm drapes around your body before you can begin to move, and you peer over to see Cairo with half lidded eyes, sleepily telling you not to go.

You had no choice now- how were you to leave? It was like waking up an adorable animal that fell asleep on you.

You scoot your body closer to her so she doesn’t have to reach for you so much, and try to relax.

Not five minutes go by before Cairo pokes your cheek and speaks again, amusement in her tone.

“Your heart is beating very fast.”

#cairo sweet x reader #jenna ortega x reader #tara carpenter x reader #wednesday addams x reader #cairo sweet #millers girl

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anchoeritic · 1 year

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「 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐬. 」

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jake sully x na’vi/fem!reader

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: nsfw(18+), minors dni. clit play, handjob, vaginal sex, really soft and passionate jake.

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you find yourself falling in love with a dream walker: mating with him under the tree of voices.

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: this is my first jake sully fic. the scenes are a bit tweaked just to make this a bit shorter but overall, it goes along with the script. i hope you all enjoy! reblogs & feedback are always appreciated, thank you so much

jake sully was never on your to-do list. you would’ve never expected for him to ever even come close to the thing.

he was a dream walker and you were pure na’vi.

you were strictly his mentor, his guidance, ever since eywa had picked him. you taught him the skills of your people: to hunt, bond, and learn.

it wasn’t long until he picked up on your wave. sometimes, you’d think that he’d be better off mentoring you instead.

he was filled with determination, even with, what felt like the world, weighing on him.

“jake,” you whispered quietly, resting a hand onto his shoulder. he tensed up at the warmth of your palm, turning his head to face you.

his grip was still tight on the bow, but his focus stayed completely onto you. “nìk'ong.” your hand slid down his arm, angling the bow right at the target.

hovering beside his head, you let out the breath you were holding right as he let go of the string, piercing it right through the yerik.

whimpering away, jake quickly caught up to its bleeding body, thanking it for its sacrifice as his first kill on pandora.

a hand was softly placed on the creature’s limb before he dug the blade into its heart, letting eywa take hold of its spirit at last.

“oel ngati kameie, ma tsmukan, ulte ngaru seiyi irayo. ngari hu eywa salew tirea, tokx 'ì'awn slu na'viyä hapxì.”

observing him closely, you watched as he slid the knife back into the sheath, letting out a quiet sigh of exhaustion.

“a clean kill,” you spoke, rubbing the yerik’s head, laying it on your lap. “you are ready, jake.”

pulling out the arrow from its heart, you reach for his hand, grazing it ever so slightly. you felt his eyes on you, burning holes into you.

“come, follow me.”

grabbing his hand, you jumped from branch-to-branch, keeping him close. you were on the tips of your toes, you’ve never felt so alive.

you ran across the forest, jake following shortly behind as your footsteps illuminated a pathway for him.

“slow down,” he laughed, trying to match your pace. you ignored his wishes, going even quicker.

“you need to be faster.” you shot back jokingly, turning around to tease him. “come on, we’re close.”

admiration was one of the many things jake sully had felt for you ever since he laid his eyes on you.

the way you’d smile to yourself whenever he made a stupid mistake trying to speak na’vi, the way you’d still manage to protect even as an outsider; a dream walker.

the way you’d scowl at his horrible earthling jokes that nobody ever laughed at, but you were the only one that paid attention to them.

“a bad reaction is still a reaction” as jake would say to you before you rolled your eyes at him.

but it wasn’t just your beauty, it was your wit. your strong beliefs, intentions to spread love outside and within yourself.

playing with the children, introducing him to them and being completely accepted like one of your own. it was like a big family he had earned back again. it felt like home.

you felt like home whenever he was around you, but those feelings could never be let out

or so you thought.

you finally made your way to utral aymokriyä (tree of voices), walking slowly through the bright, shining lights of the tree.

“we call these trees utral aymokriyä: the tree of voices.” you brought a string of leaves to your cheek, closing your eyes.

“the voices of our ancestors.”

the whispering of ancient na’vi voices could be heard as you continued to talk amongst them, acknowledging their presence in attendance.

jake stands closer to you now, brushing the tendrils away from your face to see you clearer.

clearing your throat, you turn yourself back around to avoid anything else to happen between the two of you. “you are omaticaya now. you may make your own bow from the wood of hometree.”

“and you may choose a woman.” your voice going dry, teary at most. your chest felt heavy, your heart nearly dropping to the bottom of your stomach.

“we have many fine women. ninat is the best singer-“

an expression of confusion can only make up jake’s face as he interrupts you before you could finish.

“i don’t want ninat.” he states strongly.

the attention was back onto you, struggling to come up with another reply. “there is beyral, she is a good hunter.” you said with your back faced towards him, refusing to show the sadness in your eyes.

he reached his hand out, intertwining his fingers into yours. “i’ve already chosen.”

“but this woman must also choose me.”

peering from your shoulder, you smile cheekily. squeezing his hand gently and pulling him into you. “what if i told you.”

you looked into his eyes, to his lips, down to your intertwined hands. was this really happening?

“she already has.”

sparks of happiness shot around like fireworks as he pulled you closer to his chest, gently sitting you onto his lap.

jake makes the first move, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. your hands explored his body, feeling up on the structure of his back.

his hands slipped down to the curve of your backside. you returned the favor, only kissing him even deeper.

the eagerness between the kisses shared were merely starved. he’s always loved you and he was longing to show you how much he really did love.

“kissing is very good, but we have something better.” you whispered against his lips, trailing kisses along his jawline.

you slowly pull away from his lips, already missing them. “closer, jake.”

taking the end of your queue, you raise it to him. he follows, doing the same.

you close your eyes, the feeling sending you nearly over the edge already.

the moss beneath your bodies glew, acknowledging the two souls that had finally connected to each other under its tree.

“y/n, kiss me.” jake licked his lips, wanting, needing to feel your lips against his again.

you obeyed his wishes, wrapping your arms around his neck and continuing where you left off.

quiet moans were shared as your tongues explored each other’s mouths, deciding whether or not to take it further.

his hips proved it positively, moving under you begging for some type of release.

“don't be afraid to touch me.” you mumbled, grabbing ahold of his wrist. you placed his fingers closer to your core, brushing against it.

a groan was heard by him, barely escaping. you were wet, he could feel it through the fabric.

the smell of your arousal only making him need you more.

his bulge grew harder beneath you, pressing up on your core as well. a faint moan fell from your lips at the feeling, rocking yourself on him.

“let me feel you.” you slipped your hand lower, wrapping your hands around his member.

he dug his face into your neck, hiding the volume of his pleasurable noises.

jerking him slowly, you swiped your thumb over the tip, collecting his pre-cum. “tell me,” you inched closer to his ear, licking the lobe. “tell me how much you want this, jake.”

kisses were left around the crown of his head, your other hand resting on the back of his neck. “tell me you want this as much as i do.”

his only response to you was barely words, just noises of pure bliss. it was the pure need for you to touch him, to feel you wrapped around him. he wanted to make love to you.

“y/n,” he managed to plead out, “i want this.” looking up at you, resting his arms around your waist.

you lined up his tip at your entrance, sinking down onto him slowly. his lips became a perfect fit with yours as they connected once again, tasting each other.

he sat inside of you perfectly, a perfect match of a puzzle piece. molded together out of love.

“jake.” you threw your head back in ecstasy, crying out for him.

his hands slid down to your hips, helping you ride yourself out on him. “damn,” he murmured, watching your body bounce on top of his.

sweat beading down your forehead. your knees digging into the moss as the rhythm of your pace quickened, his moans growing louder with each stroke.

your thighs started to tremble the faster you went, you could feel his nails digging into the flesh of your thighs. you swore you could touch the end of the universe, reach past the stars.

you could tell his release was nearing; profanities were heard besides your own noises, signaling for you to finish him off.

“tìyìng me ngeyä tìyawn.”

your nails left marks on his back as you felt your release chasing after his shortly.

clenching around him, you slowed down; savoring the moment.

wood sprites circle around their bodies, illuminating the scene.

their release hitting the highest of its peak about to collapse on top of each other. “give it to me.”

riding out the high, your breaths become short in time.

“oeng ulte oe, tì'i'avay krrä.”

#jake sully #jake sully smut #jake sully x reader #avatar the way of water #avatar 2009 #avatar smut

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enviedear · 5 months

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BILLY HEADCANNONS PLS HES FHE LOML

billy the kid hc's

request

— he’s a genuine sweetheart in general, but with you, he seems exalted by your presence. because he is.

— he’d devote his life to you, i know it. he’ll always have his yearning for justice, but it’s you he lives for.

“c’mere honey, let me help you.” / “the boys wanted me to go practicin’ with ‘em, but you look too damn pretty to say goodbye to.”

— if he’s playing cards, better believe he’s both playing for you and your honor. billy doesn’t mind losing, but when you’re around he’d rather get bitten by a rattlesnake than meet defeat.

you’d be nervous he’d waste all his money, “that was pure luck, billy! come on, pack up and take me home.” he’d smile at you, lovestruck expression in his eyes, “yes ma’am.”

— i see him falling pretty quick for you. he’d also be quick to figure out his own feelings.

— he’d be cleaning the barrel of his gun, staring at the stars, and realize that it can’t be normal for his mind to drift to you so much.

— billy will find any excuse to ride into town and see you. someone needs something from the general store, he’s offering to go. the boys want to drink their lives away at the saloon, billy will tag along. anything, to see you.

— he’d love listening to you talk. it could be about anything too, he’d listen so intently with a little grin on his lips.

“what’d y'do then, honey?”

— better believe that if you’re billy’s girl, no one is messing with you. if they do, they’re a dead man. he’d try his hardest to be just with his retribution, he’d never blow a man’s brains out just for speaking with you— but let them touch you with any immoral intentions and he wouldn’t even hesitate.

you try to pry the older man’s fingers away from your waist, head twisting away from his puckered lips, “let me go!” he ignores you, pushing you further into the secluded bars’ wall. “get your fucking hands off of 'er!” billy’s voice cuts through your terror, warming your heavy heart. the man drops you, backing away from you as fast he can. you look to billy, he’s got his anger bubbling up underneath his loving gaze, “run outside, darlin’. m’just gonna talk to our friend here.”

— he’d swear to settle down with you, and he’d mean it. he’d start saving and everything. he’d start the beginnings of establishing himself as a true gentleman for you.

“see that ranch o’there?” he asks, pointing to the serene homestead in the distance. you nod and he smiles, “m’gonna set us up with one. one day. for my pretty lady.”

— he’d sing for you, if you ever ask. mostly just beautiful irish songs he remembers his momma singing him.

— speaking of his momma, he’d be very scared if you ever got sick. even if it’s nothing too serious, he’s fretting over you and calling the doctor back before the man’s even left the property.

— i also seeing billy singing to you when he’s drunk. coming over to your place, being loud, causing you to shush him.

“wan’ sing to you, honey! be practicin’ since i left the bar!”

— billy will take you riding with him any chance he gets, if you need to clear your mind or get out of town for a little, billy is offering himself and his horse.

"packed us some food, 'case you wanna stay out."

— the gunslinger would generally try to be realistic. he knows he should be, living where he does. but when it comes to you, he's completely romantic. if your pretty eyes are on his he can't help but to think that everything's going to be okay.

#you better keep spamming my inbox with billy thoughts #i need him... viscerally #billy the kid #billy the kid x reader #william h bonney #william h bonney x reader #billy bonney #billy bonney x reader #tom blyth!billy the kid #tom blyth #coriolanus x reader

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slasherscream · 4 months

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A/N: shout-out to @abominableghostface, who was my beta reader and co-conspirator as usual.

CRAZY ASS BOYS GANG + WHAT TYPE OF "LEAVING IN THE MORNING" PERSON ARE THEY

❥ we ride at dawn. try and survive ❥

Billy Loomis - The man with the plan. When he says morning he means we are going to be in the car and on the road by the time the sun rays begin to hit the earth. Granted, it's not a hectic morning by any means. He'll have made sure the two of you started packing days in advance. There’s no last minute rushing around. No wondering if you packed a toothbrush, or your favorite jacket. You double checked everything the night before, and then checked behind one another to make sure. But no matter how peaceful the waking, being dragged to your car at 4:30am will make you want to kill him. He passes you your favorite blanket that he threw in the dryer last minute, a cozy protection against the dewy chill of the night turning to morning. When he tells you to sleep until he finds somewhere decent to eat you hate him a little less.

Jordan Li - By nature Jordan is more of a night owl. Through pure necessity they’ve molded themself into something resembling a morning person. Sure, the way they don’t start smiling before 10am shows you it’s not at all a natural state of being, but they do it anyways.

So used to starting the monotonous, average days bright and early they’re definitely not going to want to start a vacation late. They wake up to the sound of their alarm. They wake you up to soft kisses pressed into your skin. When you open your eyes, scowling at them anyways, they can’t help but laugh, “Yeah I know, I know, fuck off. But we gotta head out before traffic hits.”

Knowing how you are in the mornings Jordan packed the car last night. When you roll over, intent on ignoring them they roll their eyes and shift, so that he can drag you from bed no matter how hard you try and make yourself dead weight.

You’re still half asleep, leaned up against him beneath the spray of the shower, but wake up when he flicks water at your face.

“Fuck off.” You grumble.

“Once we’re on the road I’ll fuck off for at least an hour. Then we’ll grab breakfast, yeah?” He pushes a loofah in your hand and grins once you take it. They shift again, nudging you out the way with her hip so you’re sharing the water instead of hogging it, “Wash my back so we can head out.”

When they wake you up outside a diner two hours later instead of one you’re feeling much more agreeable, pulling them in for a kiss when they open your car door.

Sebastian Valmont - A chronic riser with the sun. It doesn’t matter what time he goes to sleep, he is going to wake up right as the sun rises. He has black out curtains and takes morning yoga classes. The bastard. His body simply enjoys being awake at six am. Thus, he sees absolutely no reason why leaving for your trip should come hours after that. He’s going to be the one driving anyways. The maids packed all your things, and the butler brought everything out to the car. All that’s left is to get you out of the house. Sebastian helps you put on your clothes, laughs at the way he has to push your arms into your shirt, and drag you to brush your teeth. When he tucks you into the passenger seat he knows you’ll be asleep again by the time he slides into the driver’s seat. He sneaks glances at you for the first few hours of the drive, quietly listening to music and the soft sound of your snoring, enjoying every second.

Stu Macher - Ball of energy that he is, Stu is awake bright and early, and does not need time to “wake up.” He unfortunately acts like this is a universal experience. The fact that he’s excited about the trip makes his typical lack of empathy towards night owls even more brutal than usual. You’re unceremoniously dragged from bed. He tickles you as you brush your teeth. If you seem a little extra groggy that morning he hops in the shower with you and turns it on cold to get your motor running. He acts completely baffled about why you’re still scowling by the time he’s back from his banishment of loading up the car while you try to dress yourself in peace. To make matters worse he wants to talk about anything and everything with you despite the fact that the sky is still that sleepy shade of blue that’s half night, half dawn. You stare at him hatefully from the corner of your eye, grunting answers at him until you pass a diner that’s open and you can get caffeine into your system. His excitement for the trip is cute once you’re awake.

Kevin Khatchadourian - Rises with the sun and is deeply irritated that you don’t. On a regular day he rarely let’s you sleep in. You’ll be lucky if he chooses to start his daily routine without you. On the mornings when he decides to practice archery, which is most, you’ll get an extra hour and a half. By the time he’s coming back inside he wants you both moving around one another, starting the rest of the routine. Brushing teeth, making food, the idle chatter of your voice. Considering he’s not fond of changing your routine, which is exactly what a vacation is, he doesn’t want to hear a single complaint about the hour he wakes you up to start the drive. He also doesn’t let you fall asleep when you get into the car, even though he’s the only one driving. You’re keeping him company no matter how tired you are.

Sparrow!Ben Hargreeves - While he maintains a strict schedule of waking up early unless hungover he is by no means a morning person. He’ll wake you up as gently as he’s capable of if the shrillness of the alarm didn’t do the trick, rocking you by the shoulder until your eyes blink open. The two of you packed the car last night so there wouldn’t be anything to do or communicate with one another upon first waking up. Two non-morning people trying to talk to each other upon first waking up was a recipe for disaster. Especially if it was the pair of you. Quietly you go about your morning. Brushing your teeth side by side, bumping against each other every now and then instead of speaking. Ben grabs the green smoothies that he made for the two of you the night before, something to tide you over until you found a place he was willing to eat at (which was always an unnecessarily complicated task.) It’s thirty minutes of driving and radio playing softly before you’re caught in a bit of traffic and you’re awake enough to be sweet. You lean across the cupholder to kiss his cheek and he gives you a small smile, “Morning, L/N.” The two of you are experts at sharing your mornings by now.

❥ we leave sometime before noon ❥

Jason Dean/JD - Will never wake you up before he thinks you’ve gotten all the rest you need. His favorite hobby is turning off your morning alarms if he thinks you set them unreasonably early in comparison to when you fell asleep. He’s certainly not going to break that pattern for the start of a vacation, when you should be resting. You’ll wake whenever you naturally wake up, JD still wrapped around you. You’ll shower, drink some coffee, do one last check of the luggage and then he’ll haul everything out to the car for you, no matter how much you both packed. He likes you to not lift a finger during your trips and it starts before you ever leave the house. It certainly puts you into a vacation mindset.

David Mccall - David himself is an early riser but likes to let you sleep in whenever he can. The start of a vacation is certainly one of those times. He spends the hours before you wake taking care of last minute things. He checks all the bags again, makes sure everything you could possibly need is packed, then loads up the car. He makes sure the house is clean so there’s no mess to come back to that you’ll stress yourself out over. Closer to the time he knows you’ll get up he starts making breakfast for you. He’s so focused on the task he jumps when your arms loop around his waist and you start to press grateful sleepy kisses to his back. You’ll be on the road in an hour or two, he’s in no rush. He wants you relaxed and enjoying yourself every step of the way.

Josh Washington - Due to his insomnia he is not falling asleep any earlier than one am most nights. To ask him to get up at dawn would be like killing a puppy. You both sleep in, wake up sometime just before noon. You like to be realistic about your expectations for yourselves, so there’s no rush. A late start was factored into the plans from the beginning. You packed everything into the car the night before, so all there’s left to do is hop in. You wake yourselves up with some music to start. Barely twenty minutes on the road you see a cute diner and stop for late breakfast. You smile at each other as the afternoon sun shines on both your faces, sleepily discussing what you’re most excited about doing when you arrive at your destination.

❥ secret third worse thing ❥

Nathan Prescott - Nathan likes your journeys to begin in the dead of night. Whether it’s heading to the airport or hopping in the car to start a long drive, a 9pm start time is the sweet spot for him. He doesn’t like waking up early to start trips in the morning. Nor does he like being stuck in the claustrophobic traffic of other human bodies or cars during the afternoon. You’ll be dead tired by the time you get wherever you’re going but having a good beginning to vacations is important. Especially for Nathan. When you start at night his anxiety tends to be lower for the whole trip. The things we do for love.

#don't ask why jordan's is longer or has dialogue it's called finding the character for the 1st time #crazy ass boys gang #billy loomis x reader #jordan li x reader #stu macher x reader #josh washington x reader #jd x reader #ben hargreeves x reader #sparrow!ben hargreeves x reader #david mccall x reader #nathan prescott x reader #kevin khatchadourian x reader #sebastian valmont x reader #if you see an error anywhere no you do NOT #i am NOT a morning person if you couldn't tell god bless the ppl who are you are my enemy

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unreliablesnake · 5 months

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Give me a reason not to love you (John Price x reader)

Summary: Price falls in love with someone who's off limits. Turns out his feelings are reciprocated.

Note: Just a little something I wrote in a rush. / If you want to know when I post new stuff, follow @unreliablesnakefics and hit the get notifications button.

“There’s this lovely girl I met the other day,” his cousin had told him three months ago, then showed him a few pictures from your Instagram account. “I’m meeting her tomorrow, I need you to be my wingman, John. Just throw in a few nice words about me, okay? Make me look like a good guy.”

He had done exactly that, telling you stories that showed you his good side, and sure enough, the two of you began dating eventually. At first he was happy for his cousin, gladly listening to his stories of your meetings, but at one point he became irritated by them. Yes, he was jealous. It took him a week to realize that, but after that there was no question about it. He found himself stalking you on social media, always checking your recent posts and photos to know what you were up to. And whenever he saw pictures of you and his cousin together, he angrily closed the app and put away his phone.

Going out with his dear relative when you were there was pure torture. John tried to get over you, he tried to ignore his feelings, but every time you smiled at him, his heart melted. You got under his skin so easily that he wondered if he could ever get rid of his feelings for you. And maybe he was hallucinating, but he could have sworn you were sometimes flirting with him. Gentle touches on his forearm, carefree laughs even at his worst jokes, and those damn smiles he hated and loved so much at the same time.

“Maybe you’re just this affectionate with people you like,” he told himself every single time, pushing his stupid thoughts away with a forced laugh.

At one point of one of these nights out he had enough, excused himself, and went to the bar to order another drink for himself. He needed a breather, he needed some time out of your gravitational pull. You were his cousin’s girlfriend, you were off limits. Someone then sat down next to him, their knee gently brushing his hips as he stood there. When he looked to the side to see who it was that couldn’t respect his personal space, his eyes landed on you. You were watching him with a smile, your fingers wrapped around the tall glass you had on the bar top.

“You’re stalling,” you said, your speech giving away that you were pretty tipsy by now.

“What do you mean?”

You drank a little with your eyes focused on him the whole time, but didn’t answer at first. “You always talk so freely when I’m away from the table, but every time I show up, you close up like a clam,” you said with a pout. “Do you hate me?”

This question took him by surprise. Did he really make it look like he felt that way? It sure wasn’t his intention. With a sigh, he took the glass of Scotch from the bartender and focused on that instead of you. “I don’t hate you,” he said eventually. “In fact, I have this stupid feeling that you’re flirting with me, and it’s hard to be around you when my brain makes things like that up.”

“So you picked up on it?” you asked him quietly.

His gaze finally fell on you, his brain in overdrive because he couldn’t believe you just said that. Even now you circled your fingertip around the edge of your glass while you watched him, the look in your eyes telling him he hadn’t been mistaken about you before. But why were you flirting with him when you were supposedly in a happy relationship? Why couldn’t you just be with his cousin without making a move on him?

John couldn’t take it. He excused himself and went outside, desperately reaching for a cigar in his pocket once he stepped outside and the cold night air filled his lungs. “Fuck,” he murmured when he struggled to light the cigar. Once he succeeded, he leaned against the wall and inhaled the smoke.

After a peaceful few minutes you showed up, alone once again, although this time you cornered him with a wide grin on your face. You were enjoying this, you loved toying with him like this, but why? Why couldn’t you focus on your actual relationship? When you put your hand on his arm, John flinched.

“You literally ran away from me,” you began, and despite your grin, you weren’t mocking him, you were only stating a fact. “I’m not going back to our table until you tell me what’s wrong. Yes, I know, you don’t hate me, you noticed that I’m flirting with you sometimes, but there has to be something else.”

He took a deep breath and leaned his head against the wall as he looked up at the night sky. Despite being under the influence of alcohol, you were quite good at recalling what the two of you discussed inside. He wished you were more drunk, he wished you just forgot about the whole thing and returned to your boyfriend. Then he would say goodbye to everyone, fleeing the pub and keep on drinking back home.

But you remembered. And you didn’t just remember, you also cornered him outside, out of your boyfriend’s sight. How on earth could he lie to you when you were standing there, looking up at him with this sweet smile? “Say it,” John said when he leaned closer to you after what seemed like an eternity.

You looked utterly confused. “Say what?”

He grabbed your shoulder and moved aside to change places with you so your back would be against the wall. “That you don't want me. I need to hear you say this so I can stop thinking about you,” he whispered when he leaned closer.

“You like me?”

But he wasn’t about to answer that question. “Just say you don't want me.” His hand was pressed to the wall next to your head, and the closer he leaned to you, the bigger the temptation to kiss you became. “I'm begging you. Say it.”

You reached up to run your fingers along his jaw. “I can’t. I don’t want to lie,” you told him quietly.

John let out a sigh and rested his forehead against yours. He was desperately trying to find a reason to get you out of his head, but you refused to tell him the only thing that could make that happen. Now he was torn between leaving you behind, going no contact with both his cousin and you, and staying here to finally kiss you. To finally have you in his arms. To pin you against the wall and shove his tongue down your throat in a messy kiss out in the open, risking one of his friends coming out and seeing the whole scene.

“Fuck it,” he said after a short pause and kissed you, a satisfied groan leaving his throat when he felt your hands touching his body anywhere you could reach.

When he finally pulled away, his blue eyes carefully watching you to see if you were still one hundred percent on board with this, he noted that you were a little too lost in the sensation. Your eyes were still closed and a small smile was playing on your lips, as if you were thinking about what just happened. And then the guilt hit him. He kissed his cousin’s girlfriend, less than fifty meters away from him. When did he become like that? When did he turn into someone who didn’t respect other people’s relationships?

“What now?” you asked without opening your eyes.

“I don’t know. Let’s see what you say when you’re completely sober, yeah?”

John wasn’t happy to say it, but he wasn’t about to make you leave your boyfriend when you were a little drunk. He didn’t want you to regret it later. So he decided to wait for a short while, hoping you would say you wanted him the next day too. As much as he wished you could stay outside together, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. They were probably wondering if he went home, so he threw the remains of his cigar away and took your hand to pull you inside. But the moment the door opened, he let go and acted as if nothing happened out there. It was a tough act, but it had to be done. He couldn’t take any risks.

#captain john price #john price #captain john price x reader #john price x reader #call of duty #modern warfare #mw2 #mw3

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neiveel3llson · 2 months

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Lost Loves

Reunited in Hell.

You didn't expect to end up in Hell. It's something that just never occurred to you, that despite your praying, begging for forgiveness, youd still end up rotting with everyone else. You'd helped your husband in his murders, you'd still help him, have he not been shot.

You wandered curiously through Hell, looking at a porn store, an already mugged store and weapons store that crossed your way while you walked through the streets like it were normal. There was chaos all around you, it felt like every two seconds someone's head was lobbed off in a gruesome way. You continued to walk through the crimson streets of Hell before something caught your eye, a small group of sinners all huddled up around a smaller store, or what looked like a store.

Your curiosity got the best of you, dragging you into the front of the small group, murmuring apologies or simply pushing past those who chose to ignore you. It was a radio, a modern looking one at that, similar to one you had in your own home, which you'd always listen to your husbands radio show on. Then something struck you, the radio wasn't the only familiar thing about this scene. The voice, the grating, static-filled voice. Youd recognise it anywhere. Alastor..

You listened in intently, rudely sushing any murmur or whisper among the crowd you'd trudged your way into. You smiled manically upon just listening to his voice for more than two minutes. Frantically, you grasped onto the shoulders of the hell-goer closes to you, a gatsby woman. She was short and pudgy, but undeniably pretty.

"Where does he live?" You asked with the most amount of kindness you could muster, despite your excitement.

"The radio demon? He's residin' at his radio hut, why?" The woman asked, hands on her hips. You bit a scowl at hearing the woman refer to your deceased husband as a demon, but you kept your composure.

"Take me there!" You said breathlessly with a grin, gripping the short woman's shoulders harshly, making her shrug them off.

"And what's in it fa' me?" She asks, looking at you from the side of her eye, tilting her head slightly with a bored look on her face.

"I'll put in a good word for you." The first offer, and undeniably the best. A cocky grin came to her face as she took you hand, shaking it slowly, beginning to drag you down the street. You saw a small lodge at the end of the street, decrepit but sturdy. Minimalistic. It came closer with every long stride, making you grin. You were so close to seeing your husband again, a mere stride away.

You missed the next few seconds of your life- well, death, only truly in your own mind again when you were face-to-face with your husband, his hands gripping your arms tightly. He was scared of leaving you, again. You looked into his newly red eyes, his paler skin, his red hair, everything about him. Even his new features. His deer ones, fitting.

"I've missed you, love.." You murmured breathlessly, a small, teary smile on your face. The small woman had gone, leaving nothing in her wake. It was just you and your husband, the hotel was silent, apart from your small sniffles and the static coming from your husband. Your husband.

"Oh my darling.. I never meant to leave you.." He cooes with a large grin on his face, bearing his sharp, yellow teeth.

Both of you leaned into one another, soft bleating coming from Alastor's throat as your lips connected for what felt like the first time in a millenia.

You held his hand in yours desperately, feeling a cold metal on your finger. His wedding ring, he never took it off. It didn't fit his aesthetic, the silver contrasting his outside drastically, but he'd kept it on.

"You kept it on.." You murmured against his lips happily, feeling him cup your face.

"I was waiting for you, darling.." He cooed yet again, leaning down with a large grin but, it was comforting. Soft.

"I love you.." A chorus of two voices, filled with a heavenly love and devotion to one another, pure love.

This belongs to @nieveel not you

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heartfullofleeches · 1 year

Note

Catboy V in heat?? ;3c

(Mdni 18+ G.N Reader as always.) [Mentions of food play, V being a warning himself]

• Catboy V is a different breed, pun intended. Clingy, demanding and invasive - these traits are amplified during this period. Days leading up to the start of his cycle he's a sweet and considerate feline. A teensy bit too caring for there not to be red flags knowing how he is. He asks about your day and is fully invested in the conversation, snuggled up to your side as you speak. He fetches your shoes, and sends you off with a kiss on the cheek opposite to the claw marks in your jeans you usually leave with for leaving him behind.

These, of course, are all red herrings and the only chance you have to flee or face the beast soon to be unleashed. He brings up the fact he gave you the last hot pocket when you try to get away for a little while just to take a shower or rest. He'll massage your shoulders the same way he wants you to cup his balls while he jerks off.

A real romantic this one.

• When his heat finally hits - you'll know. He will track you down where you are and pat his dick against your thigh or cheek with but one word of advice. Heat. He, at the very least, attempts to handle the first bout himself using his stashed of used underwear and shirts, but soon enough he craves the friction of sweaty skin and the clothes eventually becomes too drenched in his musk for a single trace of yours to still linger.

• Throws a fit if you want to shower or take a bath. He's addicted to your natural scent and honestly just kinda hates scented soap on you as a whole. This can be negated by tossing him a sweat drenched teeth - or offering special services in the tub if he joins.

• Catboy hones his cooking skills little by little within the months between he's so when he makes you meals they'll actually be edible, and flavorful enough you won't mind the extra ingredient. This services multiple purposes as he's keeping his mate fed, and he can get off knowing what you're cleaning off that spoon has a little bit of him in every lick.

• A lover of oral, it's especially wise to avoid eating anything phallic or sticking out your tongue around him while he's this sensitive. Seeing you do so outside of heat is enough to get him solid so he's pretty much creeping his shorts from the accidental dribble down your chin or the suck of whatever you're eating becomes too audible to ignore. He holds enough control so he can throat fuck your head into the pillow while you're getting ready for bed as punishment for being such a goddamn tease all the time. He tries spitballing once, but it's too gross for him to do it again - but the sight of his cum smeared over your puffy lips is enough to tempt him.

• V fucks you on any and every surface (even keeps list of his highlights/ones he saves for next time), but his favorite above all is nowhere else but his cage. In this scene it's meant for him, but it's still big enough for the both of you - just scaled to the exact sizing that while you can fit fine there isn't a lot of wiggle room so you have to cuddle to get some. He becomes extra feral here as he sees it as lurking you into his territory and fully staking his claim; claws hooked into the tatters of your shirt as he powls you from behind - tearing one of your hands from the slits in the grates for a small resemblance of affection. If you want to leave without his say so you'll have to wrestle the key from under his tongue and pray he doesn't swallow. If he did - it was intentional.

• Missionary is his preferred position, but here it's all about mating presses and the prone bone. Anything that makes sure you take every inch so he can breed you proper.

• Ever the switch despite his claims of being a pure dominant, it's fairly easy to switch things over on him if you know what to do. Slap a collar on him, tie it to the bed, edge him until he's screaming for release and you've got yourself a new dildo/cocksleeve. He insists you'll be the receiving end of whatever you give him by the end of the night, but mewls like the bitch in heat he is if you finally relieve him of his pent up frustration. Cums the second your fingers or dick enters him and still begs for more

• As hectic as it can get, there's mercy to be take in the days exhaustion catches up to him or he just wants to be cuddly. Throws an arm or a leg over you, and just enjoys having you all to himself. Forgot to mention he cancels any plans you had around the time and calls you out sick for the rest of the month (The only way he lets you leave for work is if you work under his parents so it'll be fine)

He might fool around with your thighs, but he ends up dozing off before things can get frisky. He'll bomb you with the L word so much you might expect him to be buttering you up for whatever he had planned when he wakes up, but he means it every time from the bottom of his decrepit heart. After his heat he'll pick up the same habit of caring for you as he did before it started, but there's no hidden strings this time. He's grateful to the point of tears that you tolerate him. Loving him back is another beast entirely. Those days you have off left are spent like royalty and as much as he complains he's happy to do it all over again in the future

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere insert #yandere headcanons #male yandere #yandere blurb #yandere scenarios #yandere x you #yandere oc #yandere smut #yandere writing #yandere lemon

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inknopewetrust · 11 months

Text

𝐖𝐞𝐛𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐎𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲

summary: what if Miguel didn’t learn the first time around? What if he keeps jumping to new realities to experience the life he deserved but never got?

pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!reader [wc: 2.15k]

warnings: 18+, minors dni, this does get a tad bit little spicy and then... emotive, domestic miguel & family. well... here we are folks... miguel is on a struggle bus.

Every universe tells a story.

And before worlds start to crumble, they are built by those within it hoping for a better life.

Miguel could hear the music from the kitchen before he even walked through the door.

The rhythms of drums he had long forgotten weaved its way through the air as the smells of a dinner being cooked wafted out from the apartment. He could hear the laughter he missed greatly; a sorrowful joyous sound Miguel could never grasp.

"No, no, no!" Happy shrieks left your lips as soon as he opened the door, bag in hand like he recalled from his years of work at Alchemax.

Small hands pushed at his legs to send him back out the door and he tried to ignore the way his eyes caught birthday streamers and a cake on the table. It was his birthday. A fragment of his life before - it felt so familiar but only a fantasy all the same.

"Go! It's not," Gabriella grunted as she attempted to push Miguel away, "it's not ready! You're too early." Too early, always too late.

"GO! Go!"

"Alright! Alright!" Miguel chuckled, smiling at his daughter as she succeeded and he found himself paired with the outside of the door once more. The lock clicked, giving him no other choice.

Behind it, the sounds of shuffling feet and plates being placed onto the table balanced out the music. The music stopped without warning the moment the light that streamed out of the small gap at the bottom of the door went away.

A pair of feet pattered their way back to the door to unlock it. Miguel opened it again and at the end of the wide hall, the kitchen table was laid with what he had seen before.

A cake lit by candles that didn't truly reflect his age.

A dinner that was a warm favorite he'd never admit to.

And a family whole and smiling to the nines. Gabriella's pearly whites nearly shined in the glow of the candles, the sights of the city filling the rest of the room behind you both. Miguel looked at his little girl with a tense heart, and he looked at you with a loose one.

You were here. You both were. Happy and healthy and waiting for him to come home.

To break the static, an out-of-tune, good intentioned rendition of 'happy birthday' filled the air. He put the suitcase down to approach the table where his hands rested on the back of a wooden chair and Gabriella's excitement overflowed as she raced to him and gladly was swept off her feet.

You would never tire of the sight of a man like Miguel so gentle with her. Broad shouldered with a harsh face, he softened beside her. Adoring the way she would wrap her arms around his neck and snuggle into the crook of it. It was soft, pure in the simplest of ways.

And he would only be like this here - when she was present and the world wasn't watching. Helping her color inside the lines or pick out a matching pair of socks so she wouldn't be made fun of when she went to school. Miguel was a dad when anyone could be a father.

When the song was over, Gabriella turned her head and whispered in his ear.

"Daddy," her voice high-pitched, "you need to make a wish."

You moved from around the table to join the two as he held onto her tightly.

"Remember," you reminded Miguel as he pondered, "just enough to last the year. There will always be more next year."

Miguel nodded absentmindedly, moving on auto-pilot to lean down and look at the flames meeting his face. One wish was all he wanted. One wish for this life to last a bit longer than the last and this universe to be the one to heal whatever pieces of him he had lost in the others.

"Ok, go ahead! One, two..." Gabriella pushed and he blew them out as he held onto his little girl and your hand rested on his arm.

Miguel couldn't remember birthdays like this.

He had begun to tune them out after years of forgetting but he sat at the end of the bed with the exhaustion he had felt every day he worked long hours that were less than rewarding.

Gabriella went to bed; he read her a story like he always did and ended up trapped in his own mind when there was little else to do but sleep.

The sink in the bathroom attached to the bedroom stopped running. You exited the bathroom in those pajamas he said made you look like an old lady but wouldn't trade for the world. However, in the reality he knew all too well, he wished he had never said that. Miguel would trade the world to feel, to hold the body that wore them again.

"What's the look for?" You asked him, eyebrow quirked.

"What look?"

"You know," shrugging, you mimicked his face the best you could but in his eyes, it was nothing more than a strange look.

"No," he scoffed with a smirk, "I don't know what you mean."

"Ok grumpy... it's your birthday," you stopped in front of him, hands on his shoulder before taking one hand and squeezing his chin lightly, "cheer up."

"I'm happy," he defended and you narrowed your eyes.

"I don't know... you don't look happy. What can I do to turn that frown," you poked into his cheek, "upside down," and pulled it upwards to get him to smile.

Miguel grabbed your poking hand and held onto it tightly. Sitting down on the bed, his eyes met yours directly. For once, he was not this towering figure that would have been menacing had he not been holding a fawning child or a bag of toys.

His eyes always told a story. One of pain, one of hope, one of lust. They were something you could see lifetimes in and only wish that when you were old, those same eyes would look at you the way they did now. Hungry and waiting for a present he had been looking forward to as he ate his food and traced unknown shapes onto your thigh as Gabriella went on and on about some kid at school.

"What can you do?" He asked you. You nodded in reply. Miguel's eyes darted to your lips, tongue wetting them before you raked your teeth over your bottom lip.

The hand that held yours fell into his lap. It itched to move further.

"I can think of a million things for you to do," Miguel's voice was guttural, husky. "But the floor is cold. It needs to be warmed."

Your heart always manages to stop in his presence.

"Get on your knees."

You weren't a woman to bow to a man. You imagined that is why Miguel had taken onto you so fast but when you were with him, the world washed away. Miguel became another piece of you that had been missing for so long. He had stamped himself inside your heart and through that, you crafted letters of love that transcended the universe.

And in the silent days when he is gone or you're alone, there's a fear of holding one's breath until it's too late. Suffocating without a lung to sustain you.

You knelt onto the cold floor as told. Miguel's eyes watching you look up at him as though you were innocent and this was the first time you were doing this. Being commanded like that, giving into his needs before your own because it was a special day.

Miguel let go of your hand, extending it high with your arm as he helped pull off your nightgown.

Nude underneath, your nipples pert with the chill of the floor, the warmth of his gaze.

You squeezed your thighs together as your toes curled under you. Miguel's ghost of a smile lingered as he leaned back on his elbows.

"You know what to do."

And you did.

Running your hands from his ankles up to his own thighs, your hands were smooth against the fabric of his pants. Fingers spread wide against the large width of them and pressing into the tenderness of his muscle. You fanned over the center of his pants knowing what lies beneath, waiting and aching to be had.

You fiddled with the belt as the silence of the room had grown into a thick air. It surrounded the two of you in a bubble.

"Miguel," you said his name sweetly. He hummed as you let your palm press down onto him and your fingers grasp at the belt. "Do you love me?"

It was not hard to admit that he loved you. He had proclaimed it in every universe he existed in, but it still made his own heart skip a beat. Weak, he imagined himself, to feel that way but here he was, knowingly in another universe where the world was seemingly perfect and it would end in disaster.

He moved your hand and replaced it with his own. He undid the belt and sat up, gripping your face with both of his large hands.

"Yes," he nodded his head at you, "I love you very much"

He loved you in a million lifetimes.

And he kissed you. Hard... because you could slip from his fingertips at any moment. You could simply disappear like dust and he would have to deal with the knowledge that he destroyed you in this world too and he needed to forget that.

His hands cradled your head with a gentle purpose. Thumbs tracing the way your cheeks formed from the smile that lit up your face and threatened to tear his lips from yours. You lifted yourself off of the ground, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

Miguel didn't need to think of a million things for you to do to make him happy. His hands traced your naked sides and he felt the skin he had been aching to feel. He gripped the parts of you that he missed as much as the smile on your face and the heart that lied inside your chest.

He trailed kisses along the column of your neck and realized that he would destroy every universe if it meant he could have this for one small fragment in time.

"I missed you, sweetheart," Miguel breathed out as you worked on the buttons of his dress shirt. Each button a second he was losing in this world.

You laughed, pulling away slightly from his so his lips disconnected from your shoulder but your fingers didn't stop working.

"I've been here all day," you popped a button off, "just sitting and waiting for you to come home."

"I know," he heaved in a big breath as if the admission of sitting around and waiting for him to come home was sad, or worse, pathetic. "I just missed you, that's all."

You just smiled in return and worked on the last button before pushing the shirt off his shoulders and feeling down his ample chest. Miguel pulled you against him, skin against skin, and rested his forehead on yours.

You didn't question the way he had a few moments ago wanted to be worshiped on his birthday and now only wants to hold you. Every trip around the sun brought forth the recognition that time had an expiration date. That date, unknown and daunting, lingered over the heads of everyone in Nuevo York because the future didn't let people live longer in harmony.

Your fingernails raked the back of his neck, grazing the start of his hair and his grip tightened.

"Baby..." you wanted to pull away to look him in the eye but couldn't. So, you just lowered your head to where your lips were beside his ear. "It's alright, Miguel..."

His hand sprawl out onto your back, the other holding your hip to him.

"I'm not goin' anywhere," you told him, "I'll always be waiting for you to come home."

But you wouldn't.

And he knew that because he made the choice to come here. He came to this universe where tragedy had already struck and wove a web into the home he wanted to build just to have one moment of peace.

That web was opaque.

The opacity of it muddling the lives he had lived and the ones he hadn't. Miguel could imagine fragments of time from the memories he had collected but they stuck together in that web. And every time a solution was thought to have been conceived–where he'd go back to a life worth living with two beautiful souls waiting for him–they imploded.

Even so he held you.

And the pain in his heart wasn't enough to stop him from trying to find that truthful reality of tranquility.

A/n: as a an english speaker, I felt it would be better if I didn't attempt to include spanish in the fic. I know miguel speaks it, I imagine him with a partner who also speaks spanish, but I'd rather leave that to the native speakers of the language instead of someone like me (their fics are also probably better than this one, so go check out those fics!)

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o'hara #across the spiderverse #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #x female reader #miguel o’hara imagine

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doliacuddles · 16 days

Text

WHISPERS OF OBSCURITY.

𝖧𝗎𝗆𝖺𝗇! 𝖠𝗅𝖺𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋 𝗑 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

❝Trapped in the mesmerizing web of Alastor's charm, she ignored the whispers of danger until reality shattered her illusions.❞

You weren't going through a good time. Life seemed to have become a dark labyrinth with no way out, where each step was more uncertain than the last. Days faded into a haze of worry and anxiety, and the feeling of being trapped in your own thoughts had become overwhelming.

It was in that state of vulnerability that you encountered him. Alastor, the charismatic radio broadcaster who enchanted crowds with his seductive voice and sharp wit. From the moment you locked eyes with him, something changed within you. There was a magnetism to his presence, a force that drew you towards him as if you were under a spell.

You were intrigued by the mysterious aura that surrounded Alastor, but you couldn't help but be captivated by his charm. He seemed so different from the others, so sure of himself in a world full of uncertainty. You knew nothing about his true personality, but you felt drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

And so, without realizing it, you found yourself increasingly immersed in his world of apparent glamour and glitter. Alastor enveloped you in an atmosphere of charm and promises, carefully hiding the dark secrets that lay beneath the surface.

With each passing day by his side, the outside world seemed to fade away, melting into the periphery of your consciousness. You were aware of the danger signals accumulating around you, but Alastor's comforting presence was like a balm to your wounded soul.

Soon, you realized that you had fallen deeply under his influence. No matter how many times your instincts warned you of danger, you couldn't resist him. You were trapped in his web, prey to a love as dark and twisted as Alastor himself.

As the days passed, you found yourself increasingly enveloped in Alastor's world. His words resonated in your mind like a reassuring mantra, dispelling any doubt or fear that might arise. You clung to him as if he were your only lifeline in the midst of a tumultuous ocean.

Although you didn't know much about his past or his motivations, you trusted that Alastor had good intentions towards you. After all, how could someone so charming and charismatic be anything other than a benevolent protector?

You convinced yourself that you were safe by his side, that he would take care of you and protect you from any danger that might lurk in the shadows. You ignored the warning voices within you, the faint alarms flickering in the back of your mind. Instead, you delved deeper into the illusion of security that Alastor offered you.

However, as time passed, you began to notice cracks in the perfect facade he presented to the world. Small details that didn't quite fit, fleeting moments of darkness peeking through the cracks of his charming smile.

Still, you clung to the hope that everything would be as he said. You immersed yourself in his world, willing to sacrifice everything for the love and security he offered you. You ignored the warnings of those who loved you, who saw through the mask that Alastor had woven around you.

As time passed, the shadows surrounding Alastor became increasingly evident. Small glimpses of his true nature peeked through the facade of charm and charisma he had meticulously constructed.

You found yourself witnessing scenes that sent shivers down your spine, gestures and words that revealed the truth behind the mask he had used to conceal his true self. But even in the face of evidence of his macabre nature, you continued to cling to the illusion he had created for you.

In his eyes, you saw a glimmer of pure evil, a sinister gleam that left you breathless. Yet still, you refused to see the truth, preferring to live in a fantasy world created by Alastor.

And then, one day, it all came to a head. You found yourself face to face with the darkness he had been hiding, unable to ignore the danger signals that surrounded you any longer. But even in that moment of desperation, a part of you still longed for the security that only Alastor seemed to offer.

It was then that you heard his words, whispered with a soft voice but laden with dark promises. "Darling, I will always protect you, no matter what," he said, his eyes shining with a mixture of twisted affection and pure malice.

And in that moment, you realized the truth you had been avoiding for so long. Alastor was not your savior, he was your jailer. He had ensnared you in his web of deceit and manipulation, turning you into his prey in a twisted game of power and control.

But even as you faced the darkness surrounding you, a small part of you still wished to believe the lies he had told you. Because the truth was too terrifying to contemplate. And so, in a final act of desperation, you clung to the illusion he had created for you, ignoring the reality that loomed over you like a threatening shadow.

And as the world continued to spin out of your reach, you plunged deeper and deeper into the darkness he offered you, convinced that in his arms, you would find the safety and protection you so desperately craved.

Intellectual property of @doliacuddles.

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

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odysirena · 1 year

Text

if you ask me why

masterlist

pairing: lo'ak x gn!metkayina!reader

summary: Lo'ak, your long time friend, asks you to set him up with Tsireya.

tags: mutual pining, (kinda) idiots to lovers (2.6k)

“No.”

Lo’ak sighs at your response, “Bro! Why not? You literally have nothing to lose!”

Said boy has been trailing you ever since you denied his request to set him up with your best friend.

You stop walking to give him a pointed stare. The boy shrinking down sheepishly under your gaze, “It has been an hour. Are you not tired of constantly whining like a child?”

You turn around, not waiting for an answer, smiling to yourself when you hear the sound of his footsteps from behind you. “Just tell me why you’re saying no and I’ll stop, I promise.”

Your steps come to a halt at his words causing his body crashing with yours. Ow, shit, bro what the fuck?! Ow, ow, ow.

“Stop whining and maybe I will,” Lo’ak straightens his back, assuming a salute position before he realises you have no knowledge when it comes to human military.

He racks his brain and rummages through memories for something to say that would hold significance to you, “Do you pinky promise?”

Lo’ak’s smile grows wider at the memory that’s been resurfaced by the simple question. He watches as the corners of your mouth twitch into an almost smile.

(You’ve been giving him a lot of those lately, he collects every image his mind is able to capture and stores them in a box, pulling them up when he’s down, convincing himself that he’s only remembering the memory of your almost smiles because the jokes that led to them were funny.)

The serious nod that you respond to his question with has him mirroring the expression on your face, the smile quickly returns though.

Because you wrap your hand around his fourth finger, pulling at it lightly before you seriously say, “Your pinky finger is now mine.”

It takes everything in him to hold in his laugh at your display.

He will never admit it but a small part of him is endeared. Your willingness to indulge in his humanity with no prejudice despite your friends’ opinions always makes him feel grateful.

No one will ever be able to claw this out of him but any time he’s particularly down, he always thinks of that day.

The day he let someone fully hold his hand without pulling away.

He was having a particularly bad day. Payakan was away, he got in trouble with his dad, the icing on the cake? Ao’nung’s friend called him a freak again.

Your consolation came with a mask of curiosity.

He knows your curiosity didn’t pop up randomly.

Because nothing about anything you did was ever random, it’s almost like your very being was fueled by pure intention.

Well-timed dialogues, perfectly executed jokes, compliments disguised as insults.

The next thing he knew he was laughing, the sour cloud over his head dispersing without him even noticing.

So when you asked him about his fourth finger, he responded with a joke.

(In his defence, how was he supposed to know you’d believe him when he said that wrapping a hand around the fourth finger and pretending to pull it off sealed a promise?)

A part of him thinks you know, another, content with ignorant bliss.

“I like you, Lo’ak.”

Your statement effectively shakes him off the rabbit hole of a memory, his eyes widening and jaw going slack in the process.

“Excuse me?” Lo’ak says uselessly.

You should see yourself right now.

Your heart feels like it’s going to leave your body and bury itself at the bottom of the ocean.

Your mind feels like it's going to explode with how fast it's racing, coming up with ways to rationalise your sudden confession.

But all an outsider would see is the tilt of your head. Emotions tucked away from your face, buried behind the person you've spent years being.

“You asked me why I don’t want to ‘set you up’ with Tsireya?” Another tilt of head at an attempt at indifference, “Did you already forget? You trailed me around for an hour?”

You stare at his dumbfounded face and realise he wouldn’t be able to form a response within the next minute. So you smile to yourself and turn to leave.

You pause, turning around slowly and reaching for a hand. The same one you plucked a pinky finger out of.

You make a display of returning it, smiling up at him as you do, “I told you I wouldn’t break it.”

Later, if asked why you turned down his request in favour of telling him you like him, the answer would be simple.

Why would you push him towards another person when you want him for yourself?

–

“There’s just no way,” Kiri and Neteyam say in unison.

Lo’ak huffs and rolls his eyes, “Guys! I swear I’m not joking.”

When the two don’t budge, he turns to their youngest, “Tuk! You believe me right?”

Tuk scrunches her face, “I don’t know,” she trails off, “aren’t they a bit too good for you?”

Her statement brings a laugh out of Neteyam and Kiri. Lo’ak rolls his eyes but the smile on his face is difficult to miss.

“Okay wait, let me clarify,” Kiri says, walking towards him as she does, “You were begging them to set you up with Tsireya,” Lo’ak nods slowly, “And when they refused and you asked why and they said it was because they ‘like’ you,” Kiri’s quotation marks warrant another eye roll from Lo’ak.

Lo’ak knows it sounds ridiculous. He wouldn’t believe it to be real himself if his heart wasn’t currently suffering from the repercussions of the smile you gave him.

So he aggressively nods his head at Kiri, “Yes! Bro! Exactly!”

Kiri looks between him and Neteyam, her jaw slacked, “Oh. He’s not joking.”

“You skxawng, why would you ask them to set you up with Tsireya?” Neteyam asks, amusement obvious in his voice.

The question has Lo’ak throwing his hands up in the air, “What do you mean why? Is it forbidden?”

Kiri shrugs, “Not really,” she gives him a teasing look, “But why are you asking the person you like to set you up with another girl?”

Lo’ak screeches, “The person I– WHAT?!”

His siblings laugh at him as he stands mortified.

Their parents call them from inside the marui, something about food being ready.

Before Neteyam follows their sisters to go inside, he grabs the back of Lo’ak’s head with a smile on his face, “Perhaps you’re in need of some introspection brother.”

–

Ao’nung was starting to get annoyed.

When you barged in on him weaving and told him you would wait till he’s done–fully understanding that the activity required utmost patience–he was grateful.

The sound of your footsteps filling the empty area as you pace back and forth has his fingers slipping up and making more mistakes than he’d like.

He sighs in relief when Näyì, the third member of your trio, enters the marui. Putting the straws down and cracking his knuckles before he speaks, “Thank Eywa, please put me out of my misery.”

You stop pacing and stick your tongue out at him–a habit you picked up from Tuk–before you turn to Näyì.

“I accidentally told Lo’ak I like him.”

The words’ effects are immediate. Ao’nung gives you a look of disbelief and Näyì gives you a look of amusement.

“You don’t do accidents,” Ao’nung says. Näyì nods in agreement before she hums, “He must really drive you crazy then.”

Näyì suddenly gasps, “Wait. . Did he. . reject you?”

Ao’nung scoffs at her display, rolling his eyes before saying, “He’s as crazy for them as they are with him. Do you not see the heart eyes he sends their way when he thinks nobody’s looking?”

You give Ao’nung a look, “No?”

A sigh leaves your mouth, “I mean, he didn’t reject me. . .”

“Then why do you look so dejected?” Näyì asks.

Ao’nung’s face twists into a playful grin, “Are you sad because you’re now stuck with him?”

You shove him, ignoring the whine he lets out, you collect your thoughts, voice dropping to a whisper when you finally speak.

“I told him I like him after he asked me to set him up with ‘reya.”

The response you receive is mixed.

“YOU DID WHAT?!”

“Oh that boy better stay away from my sister.”

You flinch at their exaggerated displays, letting them calm down to allow the words to properly sink.

When Ao’nung finally stops laughing like a maniac at the idea of his little sister with Lo’ak, Näyì turns to you.

“Explain.”

You shrug, “What else is there to say? I’ll be fine if he and Tsireya ever get together,” you ignore Ao’nung’s barfing gesture, “but I don’t really want to have a hand at it, you know? Why shove them closer together if I know it’s going to fill me with regret eventually?”

The duo takes your words in, the silence being broken by Näyì when she hums, “how about the part where you told him you like him.”

A sheepish expression is placed on your face, “That part’s the accident.”

Ao’nung gives you a look, “But I don’t think it was an accident, is it?” You blink up at him, “You told him you like him so he could consider your feelings.” Your mouth slightly hangs at his observations, “You want him to know so you don’t feel regret later on, and now you’re worried because he could reject you.”

He pats your back playfully, “I don’t know why you’re worrying so much though.”

You roll your eyes at him, “Did you forget the part where he asked me to set him up with your sister?”

Näyì snorts at your question, “He has never smiled at ‘Reya the same way he smiles when you’re around.”

Ao’nung nods in agreement, “Tell you what. Why don’t you try to see for yourself?” You widen your eyes in question, “Hang around him and Tsireya, you’ve always been perceptive, this shouldn’t be any different.”

You open your mouth to answer but he’s already shushing you, ushering you and Näyì out of the marui so he can continue weaving.

Once you’re walking side by side with Näyì, she tells you, “He does have a point though. It’s fine to be sceptical but you might end up regretting it.”

You know it’s a trap to get you to follow through Ao’nung’s plan. But when the word regret leaves your mouth you know you’ve fallen into it.

–

The next time Lo’ak sees you, Tsireya is on your side.

You would be lying if you said that the sight of his body going rigid once he takes notice of you isn’t amusing.

“Hello, Lo’ak.” The greeting comes from Tsireya and Lo’ak has to force his eyes away from your figure to greet her back.

When they’re done sharing pleasantries, you speak.

“You told me you needed extra practice for your rites of passage, didn’t you?” You smile at him sweetly, the sight of it making his stomach flutter, his body acting against his will yet again.

“I was telling ‘reya about it and she gladly offered!” Tsireya opens her mouth to correct you, to say you asked me to do this as a favour?

Please just go along with it, you say with your eyes, hoping it reaches her. When your best friend closes her mouth, you turn to look at Lo’ak.

He’s already looking at you. It surprises you that he doesn’t look away–like he usually does when you catch him staring–clouded eyes locked on your features.

You cough. Gesturing for him to join your friend that’s already in the water.

When he still doesn’t budge, you raise your hand to lightly push him towards the water.

But you never get the chance to, because he catches your arms and tells Tsireya he’ll be back.

The girl nods, but once the two of you are out of sight, she moves to leave. A knowing smile on her face, knowing better than to wait when it was you he left with.

“Lo’ak–” You start, letting him pull you towards a secluded area on the shore.

When he finds a spot away from prying ears, he turns to look at you, “What are you doing?”

The playful smile on your face drops when you see the serious expression planted on his face.

How did things stray so far from your plan? It was supposed to be simple. Have him and Tsireya hang out, observe them from afar, and finally, draw a conclusion.

But now both Tsireya and the playful boy you know are nowhere to be found.

Standing in front of you is someone you’ve only seen three times. The intense look on his face makes him feel unfamiliar.

He drops the hand he was holding and paces in front of you.

“What are you doing?” He asks again, desperation clear in his voice.

You clear your throat in an attempt to steady yourself. You don’t look at him when you speak, afraid he’d find a trace of weakness in your face with how intensely he’s staring.

“I don’t understand why you’re. . frustrated,” his pacing comes to a stop and you find your body looking at him against your orders, “didn’t you ask for this?”

Your eyes lock and you watch as the clouds forming in his eyes clear up.

“Did you lie?” He asks suddenly.

He sees your confused look, “When you told me you liked me, was it a lie?”

You find your body moving to shake your head before you can even speak, “No, I–”

“Then why are you doing this?”

Because I couldn’t stand to wait to know if you would reject me.

I had to see if you wanted her enough to not consider me.

Is what you would say if you didn’t have pride to protect. He wouldn’t be able to claw that information from you even if he begs. Liar. The tiny voice in your head calls you out. You would learn to fly if he asked.

You don’t really want to lie, so you answer with another question instead, “Do you not want this anymore?”

It’s a loaded question and you both know it.

When he doesn’t respond, you get so frustrated that words leave your mouth before you could think them over.

“I have liked you the moment you fell off your ilu during your first week here.” You turn your back on him before you continue, afraid of how he’d react to you baring your soul to him, “I like you when you’re making stupid jokes and references I don’t understand. I like you when you’re breaking rules, something I could never do. I like your bravery and your conviction; your ability to stand up for the things you want.”

You pause.

“I like you even if it scares me.”

You feel a hand on your shoulder, it spins you around, forcing you to stare at Lo’ak in the eye and then. . . laughter. Your face scrunches into displeasure, watching as he throws his head back.

When he calms down, he takes notice of your unimpressed expression and rushes to explain yourself, “No– shit– fuck– no, I’m not making fun of you.”

He sighs, moving his hands so they’re holding yours. When he sees your face soften, he continues, “I think the main reason I was so. . in denial with my feelings was because they were too strong. It scared me. The feeling is as intense as the love I have for my family but it’s different.”

He pulls you in an embrace, kissing the crown of your head before he speaks, “I’m sorry it took me this long to notice.”

You hum, “I’m sorry too,” you move your head from its position on his chest in favour of looking at him, “I knew and I didn’t tell you sooner.”

He repositions the two of you so you’re both facing the sunset, your back against his chest and his hands making their way home around your waist.

The sun sets and Lo’ak finds that he’s fine with it.

Because on your face rests constellations that are begging to be explored.

A/N: not proofread… anyways! i was supposed to work on requests but this idea came to mind and i just .. had to write it! i’ll definitely get around to them soon! as always! reblogs and replies are appreciated! thank you for reading :)

permanent taglist: @nao-cchi

#avatar #atwow #tsireya #aonung #avatar 2 #sully family #avatar way of water #lo’ak #neteyam #lo’ak x reader #lo’ak x y/n #lo’ak imagine #lo’ak one shot #lo’ak hc #lo’ak headcanon

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strong-with-the-sarcasm · 8 months

Text

Part 7 - running from a crucifixion

Dp x DC AU: Regent!Jazz & Vigilante!Jazz

"Look, to you I'm different- it's 'cause I refuse to listen to all the stupid shit that you include in your opinion. I got enough issues trying to be a human living in a ruined system while I'm running from a crucifixion." -Monster in Me by From Ashes to New

Masterlist Part 6

Jazz felt a shiver run down her spine.

Currently in her office sorting through another pile of paperwork, the Regent hadn’t been bothered by any denzien for the past few hours thanks to the guard outside her door barring all but a select few. It’d been nice to demolish one of the piles that weighed down her desk.

She had a feeling that Danny was doing something stupid. Or reckless, but she was betting on stupid.

Her little brother had finally healed enough to transform into Phantom to join her nightly patrols, a welcome addition to her mostly routine nights so far, and Jason’s proto-core was healing at a decent rate. Frostbite’s original timeline for him to wake up probably was on point, if he continued to adjust to the pure ecto in his system as he had been so far. It was good news for the Fentons, soon they would be able to move Jason back to his haunt. And Jazz could get her bed back.

(She ignored the part of her that would miss his firm presence at her back, the jumble of limbs she had to untangle herself from every time she left the bed.)

(Jason seemed to gravitate to her proto-core’s warmth.)

(It did not make Jazz happy. Not at all.)

(Frostbite had only offered her a secretive smirk at her questioning of how attracted attached she was to the once-revenant.)

(Damn Yeti.)

A moment taken to clear her head of such thoughts, Jazz stood up from her desk to stretch her heavy limbs. Life was settling, oddly enough, but when would that change?

Witching Hours patrol was, admittedly, Jazz’s favorite time of night- Crime Alley was alive while the world outside slept. There were good people who called the Alley their home, their haunt if you will, and the Regent found herself gravitating towards the street walkers when she wanted company during the slow moments.

They were people doing a job and Jazz had nothing but respect for them. Interwoven as a tight-knit community, a new vigilante hanging about was disconcerting. The Regent was a steadfast presence though and was gradually wearing them down, but Jazz was sure her willingness to beat down the assholes who push their luck helped her case.

Armored to the teeth with her ecto-sword at her side, she kept a watchful eye during the Alley’s Witching Hours patrol. The big bat himself had refused to cross into the Hood’s territory, but a few of the birds and smaller bats had no such qualm.

With the King and his Regent’s aid of the Haunt of the Red Hood, the Shades that claimed shelter from larger predators would eagerly warn of approaching intruders, especially those that came with less than neutral intent.

Robin was one such intruder.

The youngest of the flock, a fellow sword wielding vigilante, the Robin was a strange bird.

He felt like Jason did now, but younger, less corrupt than the ecto in the once-Revenant. Perhaps it was due to his age, but there was little doubt that the baby bird would become a powerful baby ghost when it was his time.

(Lady Gotham had no more of herself left to give, should one of her knights meet an end.)

(She had given of herself for Jason, the once and Future Hope of Gotham.)

The Regent, brought to attention by a Shade, turned to the Bird in her presence.

“Good Evening, Robin.” Her voice echoed with a soft cadence. “What brings you to the Hood’s Haunt?”

The small bird scowled, irritation all but leaking from his very being, “Where is Red Hood?”

Though he couldn’t see her expression from underneath her helmet, Jazz tried not to let her shock be obvious.

(What had led the bird to her?)

“Pardon?”

“Do not waste time, tell me where my brother is and I will not hurt you.”

(Oh, wasn’t that adorable.)

Jazz craned her neck farther downward as she stepped closer, not daring to raise her sword from its lowered position at her side.

The Robin froze as she stood toe to toe with him, the Shades of the Alley surrounding them both as they hissed their displeasure with his threat.

(Much later, Jazz would soak in the feeling of belonging she received from the Shades.)

(The Regent was theirs.)

Robin was surely catching the charged energy in the air around them.

“I do not deal with threats, young bird, when they come from children who should not be heroes.” Jazz hissed, before she softened her tone. “Enough children have died for the sins of their parents.”

(Danny.)

(Ellie.)

(Dan.)

(Jasmine.)

“If there is anything I can tell you,” the bird was frozen in shock, perhaps fear, as Jazz continued once more, “Jason will return and he will be free from his corruption, Robin.”

The Regent did not stick around, instead allowing gravity to bring her down once she jumped from the rooftop. Hopefully Robin would understand something of what she said, but Jazz wasn’t going to get her hopes up.

Tim did not like mysteries so close to home.

Home being his siblings, his family, and nothing got his hackles raised more than a mystery that threatened the safety of his people.

Jason had vanished, no communication in or out prior to his disappearance almost two weeks prior. Usually not a concern, but the Outlaws were all accounted for and had no knowledge of where Red Hood was.

Or what he had been up to.

When trying to find a missing person, it usually helped to know what they had been doing beforehand, but Jason was a miser when it came to his personal interests- which included civilian and vigilante activities. Sure, he allowed Oracle to connect him to the main channel, but he had yet to use it.

Then there were the trackers.

Tim had three of his own in each of his siblings, one for mask and uniform and two that could be used to record vitals remotely. Bruce had approved of such paranoid foresight, of course he did, and his siblings had only accepted it and moved in, but Jason had adamantly refused Bat-monitoring of any kind- trackers included.

Though Cass had seen fit to convince their wayward brother otherwise.

Lo and behold, Tim had been given access to Jason’s only tracker- code withheld by their silent sister until it was clear that Red Hood was missing.

The best part?

It was embedded in his chest, in his very body and despite the interference of something making his vital records a rollercoaster of confusing read outs, it proved that Jason had been very much alive on the day of the last Arkham breakout.

The same breakout that Joker had been abducted and (supposedly) killed during, his head mounted like a grotesque trophy for the world to witness.

It wasn’t a coincidence that the vitals went haywire within the same timeframe as the Breakout Alarm, was it?

Tim triple checked the two times and yep, eerily same, though the biggest concern wasn’t that it was during Joker’s abduction, but the fact that the only vital to be recorded thanks to the strange interference was Jason’s heart rate- it’s max number reaching a distressing 230 bpm, before either the tracker finally gave up the ghost or … Jason did.

It was the sort of thing Tim could only keep to himself for fear of sending Bruce down the path of madness again.

It was unfortunate that Bruce seemed to come to the worst conclusion possible without Tim’s input.

The incidental meeting with the Ghost Kid, Phantom as he preferred, had thrown everything Tim believed about Death and Not-Death into a depressing tailspin, especially when he finally worked up the courage to sort through the documents and files on the flash drive.

(And don’t get him started on which was weirder- a ghost having a flash drive or pulling said thing out of his chest like it was normal to have that ability.)

Bruce had not taken Phantom well.

Not the ghost nor the information he dropped on Batman like a boulder; be it the fact that it was a dead kid he was speaking to, said kid pleading to not send him to war against the living, or an impending war with the Dead thanks to the Government fucking around and finding out.

(Bruce had been livid.)

(There were several people immensely grateful that Batman had a no killing rule.)

(Otherwise heads would be rolling.)

In all honesty, Tim wasn’t surprised anymore that the dumbasses messed up.

What he was surprised about, was the lore of the Infinite Realms at his fingertips. It was fascinating that anyone could call these entities non-sapient when they had so many cultures and traditions, the Realms even had a monarchy!

A powerful being that held several interesting titles according to Phantom’s files: Great One, Defender of The Light, Vanquisher of the Dark, the Once and Future King of Stars….

(Later, a bewildered Constantine would confirm that ‘yes, those are correct and not even close to all of them, how did you get this? Bloody hell, is this color-coded?’)

(The files were, in fact, color-coded.)

(Green, Teal, Black and Red)

There were so many powerful entities on file, organized by their known power sets, preferred name, and their ‘danger rating’… and they were kept in the green section.

(Strangely, a small ghost dog with the preferred name ‘Cujo’ was listed with two danger ratings- one for ‘small’ and one for ‘big’.)

Phantom himself was listed with a mind-boggling power set that included almost the entirety of the Justice League’s own. The only note where it concerned his rating was ‘Spirit of Protection’, which Tim suspected meant that Phantom wasn’t a fighter unless he had to be one, but the power set given made him concerned about what exactly Phantom could be protecting that needed all that.

The last listed in the high rating category was named only as ‘The Regent’, with the titles of ‘Lady of the Acropolis’ and ‘Death-Claimed Champion’. The picture was of a tall knight in black and teal armor, helmet fully obstructing their face much like the ‘Fright Knight’, bearing a long sword of some intricate design…. And bracelets he’d only seen worn by none other than Wonder Woman.

Oh yeah, Batman was gonna have a field day.

A/N: Forgot to mention that the song quotes at the beginning are more there for decoration or what songs I was listening to as I wrote. All of them are added to the Jazz/Jason playlist I have.

The idea for the files came from the AO3 fic 'Batman, Meet Team Phantom', this specific chapter. Also, an Anger management ship fic that I've reread several times now. Not a copy, but I really liked the idea.

#dpxdc #dp x dc au #jazz fenton #dp x dc #dc x dp crossover #regent!jazz #Regent Jazz in Gotham

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super-paper · 3 months

Note

I feel like Toga and All for One have many similarities, but I am unable to articulate as to why I feel this way.

I think it's safe to say that AFO is an intentional foil to Himiko, Tenko, and Touya at this point! I've discussed how he shares body motifs with all three of them before, but his backstory more or less cemented that he's supposed to be read as "the worst possible extreme and the worst possible conclusion" to each of the trio's respective origins and overall stories.

As for how Himiko and AFO foil each other, specifically:

Cannibalism as a metaphor for Not cannibalism

Let's get the obvious point outta the way first, lol.

AFO and Himiko are both established as children that society wasn't prepared or willing to care for-- AFO was born during the advent of quirks where "paranormal" children like him were treated as diseased and shunned (or worse) by the rest of society, while Himiko was born during an "era of peace" where civilians are expected to maintain said peace through endlessly conformity and complacency-- outside of pro-heroism, civilians are essentially expected to role-play as though they've returned to "normalcy" (i.e. pre-quirk society) and the fear of being labeled as "abnormal" (despite living in a post-paranormal society) drives them to shun those who can't easily conform.

Both AFO and Himiko's "first sin" involves the "consumption of their fellow humans," which they both commit when they are too young to fully understand what they're doing-- and both acts of consumption were initially tied to their attempts to fulfill a basic human "need" that wasn't being provided for. Himiko drank the blood of a friend whose smile she envied after years of having her own smile called "creepy," AFO was a starving newborn whose mother couldn't provide him milk or protection and whose cries were ultimately ignored by everyone else. When Himiko takes someone's blood and "becomes someone else", she finally feels good "about herself". When AFO takes his mom's quirk and uses it to drink her blood, he no longer feels hungry and no longer has any reason to cry out for help/attention. Thus, AFO & Himiko ultimately learn and internalize that in order to fulfill their own neglected needs, they need to take from others.

Something something re: "the catharsis that comes with finally """"embracing your true nature'"""" so you can finally become what your family always feared you'd be (POV: you are 14 years old and utterly doomed by the narrative) (and so is the main object of your ""affection"") (puberty is a bitch ain't it!)" something something

To Himiko, the consumption of others becomes a way to "become somebody else"-- someone the world will treat more kindly than they treat "Toga Himiko." She feels the urge to completely drain the blood of anyone who has the life and relationships that she desperately wants for herself. Before that, drinking blood was simply her way of expressing admiration/affection and fell under the banner of MHA's definition of "pure love" (i.e. love as imitation). Himiko showed no inclination towards completely draining the blood of those she loves until her psychotic break with Saito, and she is notably able to restrain her supposed "urges" around the LOV despite loving them deeply. The "urge to drain those she loves completely" isn't actually tied to her quirk, but to her desire to "become someone else."

To AFO, the consumption of others became yet another way to rob them of their autonomy-- by taking away "a part of them" and forcibly turning it into a part himself in the most base, unsettling, and crude way possible. Before that, his consumption of others was simply driven by his instinct to survive. AFO's "urge to take" is tied to the preconception that no one will provide for him or look at him UNLESS he is taking something from them-- like Himiko, his quirk merely makes it easier for him to act on urges that don't actually stem from the quirk itself. AFO's warped perception of other people balloons wildly out of control by the time he reaches his teens, and finally cumulates in him ""eating"" the glowing baby out of jealousy:

*Kills someone over their follower count* Man, AFO is nvr gonna beat the "was a tiktok e-girl in his previous life" allegations

AFO and Himiko both "consume" other people out of jealousy and a desire to make up for what they feel they lack as individuals-- but an important distinction between the two of them, I feel, is that Himiko's consumption of others is ultimately driven by her desire to connect with other people while AFO's consumption is instead based on fear + mistrust of others. It's the difference between "Consumption as wanting to become a part of someone and become a part of the world they live in (+ consumption as a way to become a part of the world by living vicariously through someone else)" and "consumption as forcibly making someone a part of you and forcibly taking away their connection to the world."

Speaking of "consuming someone who has traits you envy in an attempt to make those traits your own" *pointedly looks at AFO's dynamic with Tomura* ...........yearp.

It's only after Himiko's human needs are finally addressed by Ochako, that Himiko learns the desire to "give" rather than take. I feel that this is probably one of the core take aways of the series while more or less being the "end goal" of the OFAFO plot-- "endless giving without ever taking" (All Might becoming the number one hero at the steep price of himself and Izuku almost destroying himself in the process of trying to emulate All Might) and "endless taking without ever giving" (AFO full stop, as well as society itself towards both the heroes and villains) are both extremes that only cause more people to get hurt. There has to be reciprocity. It has to be "One for All -AND- All for One." Give -AND- Take.

Side note: Himiko's favorite food being pomegranates also strikes me as ironic when you remember that Hori is gigantic mythology nerd-- In both art and mythology, it's not uncommon for pomegranates to be used as a visual for "flesh" and for their consumption to be used as a stand in for cannibalism. In greek mythology, pomegranates are known as the "fruit of the dead", and are believed to have originated from the blood of Adonis. There is also the legend of Persephone, who was cursed to remain within the underworld for six months each year as the price for consuming six pomegranate seeds while in hell.

The Buddhist legend of Hairiti/Kishimojin also stands out for framing pomegranates as a "cure" for cannibalism, by offering them to man-eating demons in lieu of flesh:

As for AFO-- it's been pointed out by several different people that he shares several parallels with the greek titan, Cronus, who is most famous for having devoured his own children whole.

With that in mind, I feel like the act of consuming blood has an almost mythological edge to it for these two (outside the obvious reality-based social stigma of it lol)-- the act of "eating" others, regardless of intent, is what condemned both AFO and Himiko to hell. But Himiko is offered a way out of that hell and ultimately finds salvation in allowing herself to be "consumed" in turn, while AFO just doubles down on eating every rando beefcake he can get his hands on while giggling like a school girl (and yet, when the chance to eat Toshi finally presents itself, he totally fails to capitalize on it. mfer can't even "cannibalism as a metaphor freaky gay sex with your dramaturgical foil" right smh 😤).

As an aside, when I say "people generally read into MHA too literally and expect entirely too literal conclusions for what is largely a fantastical story about abuse/trauma/coping mechanisms," how MHA depicts ""cannibalism"" through Himiko is actually one of the examples that comes to mind lol. So many people think that death or jail is the only appropriate conclusion for Himiko's character because it's the "only realistic conclusion" like they aren't reading a story where people have tape dispensers for arms lmfao.

OMNOMNOM-- (On Mouths)

Not much to elaborate on here, mouths (and smiles) are AFO and Himiko's shared body motif in MHA's narrative. AFO's mouth is his only distinguishable facial feature during Parts 1 & 2, Himiko's smile/mouth is her defining feature and how others perceive it is a source of trauma for her. Her villain outfit is notable in how it covers her mouth/hides her smile while also resembling AFO's act 1 mask:

*squish*

During the final war, Himiko puts her mask on and hides her mouth immediately after being rejected by Izuku. This is symbolic of a lot of different things, but mostly, it drives home how she is no longer interested in talking things out and has "fully embraced being a villain." Ochako understands what's at stake and spends the rest of the fight trying to "take the mask back off"-- she understands there is something behind Himiko's villain mask that she needs to save.

Meanwhile, Toshi smashes past AFO's mask during Kamino and finds there is simply nothing underneath it-- reinforcing the idea that AFO has made "being a villain" his entire identity and that there is nothing worth saving behind his mask. However, Toshi was also the one who "smashed" AFO's facial features away in the first place. AFO definitely deserved getting his head popped, but in the context of MHA as a whole, I feel like AFO and Toshi's dynamic only highlights the overall tragedy of the hero/villain system and why it's a good thing that the new generation is starting to challenge it.

It is worth mentioning that mouths are frequently used to mask and dehumanize within the context of MHA's narrative, but this isn't something exclusive to AFO and Himiko ('sup Toshi) (''sup Tomura).

(I don't actually have anything else to add here lol)

Demon Child, Demon Lord

AFO and Himiko also stand out in how they're both framed as having been "born bad"-- Himiko by her parents, AFO by himself and the narration. Discerning readers already know that this is a crock of shit.

Child for One sees the Demon Lord being surrounded by people who provide for him out of fear while he's stuck living in isolation and squalor with Yoichi, and decides the only appropriate reaction to this is to make a children's comic book his entire personality (he's just like me fr)-- He embraces the idea of becoming a demon and shedding off his humanity, and immediately starts self-styling himself off a generic biz-caz corporate shmuck (lmfao).

Unlike AFO, Himiko resists the label of "demon" as much as she can-- she styles herself as "a cute high school girl" despite being a middle school drop out because she realizes the world will treat her a little more kindly this way (but only a little). Himiko longs to be seen as human, but is made to feel like a monster instead.

What I find interesting is that AFO himself outright admits that he lacked the ego/awareness necessary to "consciously" take Yoichi's quirk when they were children-- yet, both he and the narration continuously frame the siphoning of his mother's life, quirk, and Yoichi's nutrients as though they were intentional, malicious acts. AFO leans into this framing and builds his whole identity around it until that framing is finally pulled away from him literal seconds before his death.

Being "human" to Himiko means going back to a time where she was loved and accepted unconditionally. Being "human" to AFO means going back to being that screaming infant who no one would look at.

Like it or not, everyone is human in the end little dude.

Other Miscellaneous Similarities:

This one doesn't require much explanation-- through prioritizing their own needs above all else, AFO and Himiko both dehumanize other people the same way other people dehumanize them. Himiko is still a child, however-- and she is ultimately saved by her desire to be accepted and form genuine connections with others. Her final fight with Ochako is as much about getting Himiko to see Ochako as "human" as it is Ochako acknowledging Himiko's humanity. Once again, it's all about reciprocity/give-and-take.

""join our family and let me raise you! :D *hard cut to a burning orphanage*" AFO being genuinely puzzled that ppl aren't jumping at the chance to raised by him is my favorite running gag in mha.

Both AFO and Himiko also have a habit of being.... inappropriately intimate with other people, often to the point where whatever "relationship" they have with others exists almost entirely in their own head. Himiko calls Tsuyu by her first name and gets told to cut it out because this is a privilege Tsuyu reserves for her friends, and Himiko immediately interprets this as Tsuyu offering to be friends. AFO calls his worshippers his "friends" and his cult "his family" and asks that his young victims call him "uncle" like he's a kindly family friend and not the dude who is blackmailing them into betraying all their friends.

Also, neva 4get.....

To think AFO could have also had fun yuri times if he had just stopped being a dickhead for five seconds. Tragic. 😔

(/j)

#sophie.txt #mha.txt #all for one #toga himiko #thank you for the ask!#threw in some stealth ochako-toshi parallels for good measure bc tbh it makes AFOmight as a ship even funnier #just two guys who fumbled each other so hard it changed the trajectory of the whole story lmfao 😭

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ssaluv-a-lot · 8 months

Text

Yearning

Izogie x black!fem!reader

A/N: Just some kissing and mild language warning. I am a Lashana Lynch fiend so enjoy

Izogie had mastered the art of yearning. Long before she became Agojie and even longer before you became the King’s top advisor.

Her yearning started as childhood best friends who lived down the road from each other.

Although your position kept you two close, it was rare that Izogie felt satisfied with your shy waves across the fields and gleaming smiles when she returned from battle stained with blood.

She had to have permission to speak to you now. When just a few years ago, all it took was a call of your name to have a conversation.

“How are you!?” You exclaimed, jumping up from your desk to wrap your arms to her bruised torso.

Izogie suppressed her wince to hug you back just as tight. “I am well. You?”

“Bored.” You rolled your eyes as you pulled away from her form. “All I see is numbers all day. My vision is starting to blur.” You rubbed a hand over your forehead as you took a seat at your wilted chair again.

Izogie followed you in agony at loss of your touch, opting to lean against your mahogany desk instead of embracing you again.

“You need a break.”

“Right. And when the king comes to nag me again, who will be to blame when I am absent?” You suck your teeth and your lips form into a pout.

Izogie can’t fight the smirk that tortures her lips and all she wants to do is kiss the puckered bottom lip until you are blushing and pleading her to stop.

“When is the last time you saw the village?”

“Since I took this job. Izogie, I don’t get to come and go. The King must have me in arms reach all the time.”

The warrior tried not to nurture the red hot jealousy that sparked at the thought of the King wanting to be so close to you all the time. Though she knew his intentions weren’t what she thought, the idea still burned her.

“Come.” Izogie rose and the wood creaked. She held out a hand for you to take and you looked curiously.

“What?”

“Come with me. You may not be able to see the village but you deserve to see the outside of these walls just the same.”

Yearning. She yearned to take you outside of the palace, to give you everything you could imagine, to not have to answer to anyone if you two decided to disappear for a night together.

She wanted all the things she couldn’t have without getting shunned, exiled, and possibly killed.

“Come on!” Izogie urged you on with a shaking hand and a bright smile.

“Alright. Alright.” You giggled, grabbing her waiting hand and bracing your body against her bicep as she stepped out of the office.

“Do you want to see the Agojie?” Izogie peered down at you as your head tilted back and the sun beamed down on you.

Tenderly, you sighed. It had probably been days since you had a chance to purely enjoy the sunshine. A smile crept up the corners of your lips as you leaned into Izogie further, squeezing at her hand with your own.

The warrior ignored the backflipped her heart did at the sight of you. Beautiful brown skin, glowing under the rays of sun as it should be.

“Yes…I want to see everything.” You giggled, already tugging on Izogie’s arm to guide you further.

“Yes?” She chuckled, tempted to press a kiss to your cheek.

“Yes. Let’s go!”

You kept close to your warrior as she took you around the Agojie grounds and let you watch the trainees.

Her eyes never left your sparkling gaze as you watched like a kid in a candy store. Not even when Amenza gave her a raised brow and a smirk when passing.

“You all are so strong.” You marveled, pricking your finger on one of the spears in the weaponry.

Warrior’s muffled chants and swishing of weapons resounded through the compound.

“Mmm. We have to be. Because we are women, people don’t take us seriously until we gut them and gouge their eyes.”

She made a clawing motion of her hands towards your own brown irises. “We must show them that they should be very afraid.”

“Show me.” You picked up a spear, skillfully twirling it around your arm and pointing it at your comrade.

“Eh? No. You have no business with this weapon. Put it down.” Izogie shook her head at you but you refused to budge.

“Izogie, I want you to show me how to use one of these. I am not asking to become Agojie.”

“That is hardly the point. Come. The King will notice your absence by now.” She moved to grab the spear’s handle and pulled it forward.

You, refusing to let go of the weapon, were hurled forward with a yelp at the sudden motion and thrown right into her chest.

Izogie’s arm bracketed your waist, keeping you flush against her as she place the spear back to its place.

“Stubborn woman.” She chuckled down at you, rubbing a hand over your arm. “Must you disobey me?”

“Isn’t that what makes this so fun?” Your voice came out as a whisper as you tried to catch your breath from the impact of falling into her.

Yearning. She’s never wanted to kiss you as badly as she does now. As breathless as you are and right in her arms.

She could. She could just dip her head a little and graze her lips across your forehead, sending a shiver up your spine as you looked up at her.

She could lift your chin with her dagger-like nails just the slightest bit and lock your lips against hers with a satisfied groan.

“Izogie!” Amenza appeared in the doorway and just as fast, you shove Izogie back, breaking the kiss and wiping your lips.

“Amenza?!” Izogie looked about ready to strike the warrior for ruining something she’s needed for years.

“The King is looking for his advisor, hm?” Amenza gestured to you as your eyes blew wide. “Seems she’s wandered away from her duties.”

You swiftly pushed past the slender woman without so much as a goodbye to Izogie, leaving the two warriors in a charged silence as you raced back to your office.

“Don’t say it.” Izogie pointed a finger at Amenza.

“How could you?!”

“Fuck, Amenza! How could I not?! You have no idea the things I feel for her so please!”

Yearning. The one thing she couldn’t afford to do.

#black writers #x black reader #black reader #fluff #the woman king #lashana lynch #izogie #izogie x reader #izogie x black!reader #lesbian couple #lgbtqia #queer #fem x fem

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