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phsychobanana · 5 months

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In your eyes

Pairing: Zuko x Firebender!reader

Summary: When Zuko falls for a member of the gaang, he fears that his mistakes may ruin his chances with them.

Word count: 2.3k

A/n~ I think this is gender neutral? I don't remember putting any specific pronouns, but correct me if i'm wrong. Enjoy!

Funnily enough, the first time you met Zuko was at the northern water tribe. Two fire benders surrounded by waterbenders during a full moon. Not exactly an ideal situation for any firebender, but you were welcome, whereas Zuko was not.

You were running as fast as you could, your legs carrying you in a speed you didn't know was even possible. Katara was in trouble and the moon was slowly disappearing from the sky, fire nation soldiers were everywhere, the water benders were struggling with the loss of the moon and you were terrified.

"Katara!" You yell to her as you get closer to the girl. She was fighting a boy you had never seen before.

You jump on the boy's back and hold your hand to his throat, heating your palm up slowly.

"I would choose my next move carefully if I were you." You say as Katara puts her own hands to her neck and moves them around trying to mimic an explosion.

Suddenly, the boy moves his hands to your face and you feel a burning swipe across your eyebrow. You let go of him and move your hands to your face, a searing pain on your eyebrow almost making you drop to your knees. Katara rushes to your side in a panic,

You see the boy grab Aang and run off before you could do anything.

"Who was that?" You ask Katara angrily.

"Zuko."

***

Zuko followed you and the gaang around for weeks, those weeks turning into months. And the more he saw you, the more he wanted to see you again.

Unfortunately for him, the more you saw him, the more you wanted to smash his head through a window. But every couple has their problems.

You held a very strong grudge towards him, seeing as your eyebrow had scarred and you now had a line going through your eyebrow and over your eye. It made you angry every time you looked in the mirror.

Unbeknownst to you, Zuko felt absolutely terrible for what he had done. He didn't mean to scar you, he would never wish his fate on anyone. Not even his greatest enemy, which lamentably, happened to be you at the moment.

***

The next memorable time that you saw Zuko was in the crystal cave. You had both been thrown in there as a punishment and you were freaking out. Aang, Katara, and Sokka needed you.

You started hitting the walls, throwing as much fire power at it as possible, you even broke a crystal into one big sharp shard and slammed it against the door repeatedly, but it was no use.

"There's no point in doing that." Zuko says, looking at you with his blazing golden eyes. "We aren't getting out until they want us out."

You just scoff in response, unsure of why he was even talking to you in the first place.

He looks at you when he hears your scoff, "You don't have to be rude."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I hurt your feelings by being mean?" You mock him in a baby voice, causing him to roll his eyes.

"What's your problem?" Zuko asks, looking you up and down with pinched eyebrows.

"What is my problem? You're my problem, Zuko. You've been hunting my friends and I for months, you've hurt us -or attempted to- more times than I can count, you gave me this," You point to your scar, making him flinch, "And you have the nerve to ask me what my problem is?" You let out another scoff and turn around, giving him your back.

Zuko looks down at his hands, not knowing what to say. He watches as you light each one of your fingers up like a candle to keep yourself distracted.

He walks over and sits next to you, doing the same with his fingers.

You look at him and roll your eyes.

He smiles softly to himself. You haven't moved away from him, yet.

***

If there had ever been even a sliver of you that had liked him in that cave, it was completely gone now. He had betrayed you that night in the cave and it hurt you.

It was the day of the eclipse and you were running through the underground tunnels, looking for Sokka. As you were running you bumped into something, falling hard to the ground.

"Ow!" A familiar voice huffed as the other person made contact with the ground.

"Zuko?"

He looks up, his hair falling into his eyes. You notice his eyes widen and light up, but just as he goes to say something you lunge at him.

With your hands around his neck, you yell at him through gritted teeth. "I trusted you!"

"I know, I'm sorry." He barely gets the words out, gasping and clawing at your hands.

You let go of him and slam him into the ground hard.

"I swear to the spirits, if you ever try to hurt my friends again I will kill you with my own two hands. No bending, no help, just me and you." You say and walk away to go find Sokka.

Zuko sits there for a moment replaying what you said in his head over again. A small smile spreads across his face and he jumps up, running after you.

***

"You have got to be kidding me!" You yell at your friends. They were letting Zuko, the guy that had tried to kill you and capture Aang on more occasions than you could count, into the group.

"Everyone deserves a second.....or 100th chance, Y/n." Aang says, placing a hand on your shoulder as Zuko takes a step towards you.

You clench your fist defensively, making him put his hands up in defense as he takes another step forward.

"I get why you wouldn't trust me, but I've changed." He says, taking one of your hands in his. You pull away with a hollow laugh and walk away.

"Fine, let this psycho join us. I don't care." You say as you disappear behind a wall.

Zuko looks down with a sigh. "Challenge accepted..." He says under his breath as he thinks of ways to win you over.

***

Two days after Zuko joined the gaang, you were attacked. A pack of firebenders found you, attacking the group. You all paired together, Sokka with Toph, Katara with Aang, and you with Zuko. You had begged Toph to pair with you but Sokka stole her, leaving you with the one person you did not want.

You were back to back, fighting off the soldiers when another fleet arrived. The gaang chose to run, not wanting to be captured. You stayed behind to fight off the rest of the soldiers so the others could get away.

"Y/n come on! Hurry!" Sokka yelled for you as you were running after Appa. A soldier dived at you and their hand grabbed at your ankle, making you tumble to the ground.

"Go!" You yell and Aang pulls Appa out of there. You kick your foot back at the soldier, successfully kicking them in the face. You run off into the forest, You can hear the soldiers running after you as you twist through the trees.

You feel something grab your arm and pull you toward them. Looking up, you see Zuko. He's not looking at you, instead looking at the soldiers running around looking for you. You notice that he pulled you into a clearing hidden by trees and bushes. He places his hand over you mouth as you go to say something.

His adams apple bobs as he swallows harshly, listening and watching for any signs that the soldiers might be headed towards the two of you. After no signs, he looks down at you, finally making eye contact.

His golden eyes shine as he looks at you and he smiles softly.

"Thank you." You say quietly, not wanting to be too loud.

He nods.

"Do you still hate me?" He asks with a barely there smirk.

You shake your head. "I don't think I ever really hated you." He smiles at you. "I just strongly disliked you. It was a very strong dislike. Very strong."

"Okay, I get it."

You laugh softly at his dismissiveness of the subject.

"Do you think I'm still a bad guy?" His voice is quiet. Barely a whisper, but you hear it.

You look at him, he's looking down at the grass, his fingers are playing with each other out of habit, his hair is fallen over his face and covering his eyes. You never quite realized how pretty he was.

"Of course not-" You begin to tell him your answer, but your words are interrupted by yelling.

The two of you turn your heads in the direction of the noises and see your friends running to you.

"There they are!" Katara calls to the others as she makes eye contact with you.

Zuko lets out a frustrated breath at the interruption, but he gets up and dusts off his clothes, offering you his hand.

***

The days after that moment in the woods would replay in your mind every night before you would sleep, every morning when you'd awake, every meal, every training session with Aang and Zuko, every group meeting, every day all day.

You had started watching Zuko more than you would care to admit. The way he tried to make up for all of his past mistakes always seemed to put a smile on your face. He helped Katara in the kitchen when he could, he always made time to talk about weapons with Sokka, he always played games with Toph and Aang, and he was especially trying to make it up to you. Though you didn't notice that part.

He always pulled your chairs out for you, he helped teach you how to control the lightning within you, he even got you flowers one time. Unfortunately the flowers backfired and Appa ended up eating them, sneezing petals for a week.

You were currently training Aang on the beach with Zuko. The sun was blazing down on your back and your cotton shirt was absorbing all of the heat, making you sweat more than you would normally.

You walk over to where Katara, Toph, Sokka, and Suki are sitting, sipping their little coconut drinks as they watch you and Zuko beat the arrows off of Aang.

You take both ends of your shirt and pull it over your head, leaving you in your shorts and bathing suit top. When you walk back over to the boys you notice how red Zuko's face is.

"You alright over there, Z?" You ask, worried that he might be overworking himself in the heat.

His head snaps to look you in the eyes, his face going an even deeper red.

"Y-yeah, heh. Why wouldn't I be?" He looks around, avoiding looking at you with everything in him.

You decide to ignore his weird reaction to your words and go back to teaching Aang.

"This one is a partner move. So, I'll demonstrate with Zuko and then when you understand how to do it, you can try with him." You explain as you walk over to the spluttering and red as a beet, boy.

You move his hand to your waist and his other in yours, your own face heating up a bit at this position. You then kick his own foot out from underneath him and flip him over your shoulder. You light your hand ablaze and put it near Zuko's neck like one would a sword.

"I thought you said this was a partner move," Zuko groans out.

"Yeah, good guy and bad guy. Partners." You say with a smirk.

"You can do that, right Aang?"

Aang nods his head excitedly.

After another hour or two of flipping Zuko over your shoulders, you all sit down around a camp fire on the beach for dinner. You and Zuko offer to collect the plates and take them back up to the house.

"You did good in training today." He says as he takes the plates from your hands and places them on the counter.

You let out a small laugh.

"Well I would assume I did considering the amount of times I was able to flip you."

He rolls his eyes and you take this moment to admire him.

His hair falls in perfect strands across his forehead, his golden eyes reflect the light of the setting sun peeping through the window, his skin is soft as you place your hand on his.

He looks at you confused when he feels your touch.

"You did good, too." You say softly.

He smiles at this, looking down at your hand that was still on his.

"How do you see me?" He asks, breaking the peaceful silence.

"What do you mean?"

"What am I in your eyes?"

You think for a moment, pondering how your answer.

"You're a person who has made many mistakes." You begin, making his shoulders droop a little bit. "But you are also a person trying to make up for all of those mistakes. You're a kid, a kid who has been through a lot. Yet, you're still sweet and funny and kind and loyal. You try to hide how you feel, but I can still see every emotion you have in your actions. You're trying. And for that, I think you are amazing. That is who you are in my eyes."

He doesn't say anything for a moment, making you feel nervous about how he would react.

With a million thoughts racing through his mind, he decides not to say anything. You said that his actions meant more, so he spoke with an action.

He gently placed his hand on your cheek and leaned in slowly, giving you time to pull away at any second. But you don't.

His lips meet yours in a soft kiss, his hair tickling your cheek. You smile into his kiss making him smile as well. Your arms wrap around his neck and you pull him closer as he pulls away from the kiss. You rest you foreheads against each other, catching your breath.

"I think I like you." He says, making you laugh.

"Oh shut up." You say and lean in for another kiss.

#prince zuko #zuko #avatar the last airbender #zuko x reader #zuko x y/n #zuko x you #x reader #atla #zuko atla #fire lord zuko #aang #avatar aang #katara #sokka #toph #suki

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dolcettamagica · 2 months

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𐙚˙⋆.˚ 𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐚

gangleader!sukuna x reader, modern au

tags: daddy kink, dirty talk, blowjob, sukuna speaks italian, petnames in italien translations: piccola - little one/baby principessa – princess che brava – (what a) good girl sei carina, lo sai? – you're cute, you know? ti piace, piccola? – you like it, little one? notes: minors dni wc: 3.6k

Life was tough. At least your life was.

Living alone in this day and age was expensive and to pay your student loans was almost impossible. Yes, you could go the easy route and just sell your body or some pictures but that really wasn’t your style. You weren’t going to turn your body into a product. So, when a man called Toji came up to you, asking how much you were worth for the night, you rejected him and asked if you could do something else that would earn you just as much money. The handsome man simply smirked before your criminal life started. Ever since then your job was to “exchange fake money with real money”. Money laundering.

And you did just that. Asking your friends to lend you money and giving them back fake money, returning products you bought with the fake money, asking people if they could change one bill for another. It worked. The last few months worked without any problems at all. This month however was an absolute nightmare. Not only did Toji give you way more money than usual, you were in the middle of exam season. You were running behind and Toji warned you that his boss, Sukuna, was not pleased with your current status. Well, it’s not like you could do anything about it anyway.

As the heavy front door creaked open, a wave of exhaustion washed over you, burdened with the weight of deadlines, exams and Toji’s constant warnings. Your footsteps echoed in the dimly lit hallway, each one a testament to the fatigue that settled deep within your bones. With heavy shoulders and a weary sigh, you dragged yourself through the threshold of your home, longing for the solace of your own space. The weight of your backpack seemed to increase with every step, a physical manifestation of the mental strain you had endured throughout the day. As you entered your room, the soft glow of your desk lamp provided a faint comfort, but even its warmth couldn't dispel the overwhelming sense of stress that enveloped you. Toji kept sending you messages, telling you to hurry up and wash the money. Another sigh fell from your lips as you let your backpack and jacket fall to the ground. The moment you turned around you started to scream – a stranger was sitting on your bed.

Sukuna, the embodiment of wrath and power, sat on the edge of the bed, his presence casting a palpable aura of danger in the room. Clad in a white shirt and black pants that hugged his form with menacing elegance, his usually composed demeanor was shattered by a seething anger that simmered just beneath the surface. The fabric strained against his muscles as if unable to contain the sheer force of his rage. With a clenched jaw and eyes ablaze with fury, he exuded an aura of dominance that commanded attention. His fingers curled into fists, nails digging into his palms as he fought to contain the tempest within him. Every breath he took seemed to echo with the promise of destruction, a silent warning to those who dared to cross him. Despite the veneer of sophistication his attire provided, there was no mistaking the primal wrath that pulsed through his veins, ready to unleash chaos upon any who dared provoke him.

“Who the hell are you?!”

“Ain’t no way you’re talking to your leader like this, stupida.”

Realization hit instantly. This was what Toji was warning you from the whole time. It was Sukuna – the gang leader. You heard a lot of terrifying things about him. The name of Sukuna Ryomen struck terror into the hearts of all who dared to utter it. A gang leader with a penchant for unspeakable cruelty, his reign of terror was marked by a litany of horrifying deeds that stained the streets with blood and despair. From the depths of his depravity, tales whispered of Sukuna's penchant for gruesome displays of power — from the grisly dismemberment of rivals left as warnings, their mutilated remains strewn across the city like macabre ornaments, to the innocent lives snuffed out in acts of ruthless vengeance. His depraved appetite for control knew no bounds, his twisted machinations orchestrating a symphony of fear that echoed through the alleys and corridors of the urban labyrinth he ruled with an iron fist. Behind the facade of opulence and influence, Sukuna's true legacy lay in the shattered lives and haunted souls that bore witness to his reign of terror, forever scarred by the horrifying specter of his atrocities.

It was the first time that you actually saw him and it was the first time that you instantly got on your knees for a man. You knew you had to show your utmost respect to this man. “I am so sorry. I–I didn’t know. Please forgive me, Sukuna.”

A grin graced his face as he saw you submit to him so quickly. He loved that fear struck anyone who laid eyes upon him. On top of that: You were a beauty. However he could not just look over your lack of achievements. At first he was impressed by your work. You managed to wash all the money and not have a single cop suspicious of you, you were smart and didn’t tell a living soul about your connection to Sukuna’s gang. So, he decided to give you some more money, he was sure that you were able to handle it. You weren’t and you took none of Toji’s – his right hand – warnings seriously.

“You look good begging on your knees, piccola. You would have made way more money on the streets, you know?”, he snickered, Toji told him about your decision to never sell yourself. Sukuna respected that as long as you still somehow benefited him. “Toji warned you, didn’t he? You’re behind. Why are you fucking up my business, y/n?”

The flicker of a lighter cast an eerie glow upon his features, accentuating the cold calculation that lurked behind his piercing gaze. With practiced nonchalance, he retrieved a cigarette from its pack, his fingers deftly manipulating the slender cylinder with an air of arrogance. Ignoring the palpable tension that hung in the air like a shroud, he brought the flame to the tip of the cigarette, a small ember igniting amidst the darkness. The sharp inhale of smoke filled the room, intertwining with your fear, a sinister dance that mirrored the power dynamics at play. In that moment, as the tendrils of smoke curled around him like malevolent serpents, Sukuna asserted his dominance with a single, calculated gesture, cementing his control over both the room and its trembling inhabitant.

“I–It’s just exam season…and I was given more than usual…I am really, from the bottom of my heart, sorry for everything.” You were frozen in the oppressive atmosphere of Sukuna's presence, your heart hammering in your chest like a caged bird desperate for escape. As he lit up a cigarette with an effortless display of power, you couldn't suppress the shiver that ran down your spine, your nerves alight with a cocktail of fear and anticipation. Your breath caught in your throat, caught between the instinct to flee and the inexplicable pull of his dominating presence. Despite the terror that coiled in the pit of your stomach, there was an undeniable undercurrent of arousal that stirred within you, a primal response to the sheer force of his authority. The way he commanded the room with effortless control sent a shiver of excitement coursing through your veins, igniting a fire of desire that burned beneath the surface of fear. In the face of his overwhelming dominance, you found yourself teetering on the edge of submission, your body betraying you with each racing heartbeat as you struggled to navigate the complex interplay of fear and desire that pulsed between you two.

Sukuna's gaze, sharp as a blade, pierced through your facade of fear with unnerving precision. In the flickering light of the room, his eyes seemed to strip away your defenses, laying bare the tangled web of emotions that churned within you. He could sense the trembling of your limbs, the rapid rise and fall of your chest betraying the fear that gripped you. But beneath that fear, there simmered something else — a raw, primal desire that pulsed with a rhythm all its own. With a predatory grin, Sukuna leaned in closer to your kneeling form, his voice a low, husky murmur that seemed to caress the very air around. "I can see right through you, piccola," he murmured, his words laden with a dangerous allure that sent a thrill coursing through your veins. "You can't hide that hunger from me." And in that moment, as the tension crackled between you like electricity, you realized that you were completely at his mercy, your desires laid bare for him to see.

As Sukuna's penetrating gaze lingered on you, you felt a flush of embarrassment spread across your cheeks like wildfire. Caught in the crosshairs of his scrutiny, you wished you could disappear into the shadows, away from the intensity of his knowing stare. The revelation of your hidden desire left you feeling exposed, vulnerable in a way you had never experienced before. Each beat of your heart seemed to echo the rhythm of your mortification, the weight of his gaze bearing down on you like a heavy burden. Unable to meet his eyes, you lowered your gaze to the ground, willing yourself to shrink away from the searing intensity of his presence. In that moment, you felt small and insignificant, your embarrassment a stark reminder of your own vulnerability in the face of his commanding dominance “Excuse me…?”

Sukuna leaned back again, a smug grin on his face “Come closer, principessa, kneel right in front of me.”

Every word was your command. Slowly you got closer. Sukuna lounged on the edge of the bed with an air of undeniable authority, his legs spread wide in a display of dominance that seemed to fill the room. Clad in sleek black pants, he exuded an aura of raw masculinity that was impossible to ignore. Before him, you knelt with a mixture of trepidation and submission, your eyes downcast as you awaited his next command. The tension between you crackled in the air like electricity, the space between you charged with unspoken desires and untamed passions. The balance of power shifted palpably, with Sukuna reigning supreme over his willing captive, your fates intertwined in the complex dance of dominance and submission.

With a gesture both possessive and tender, Sukuna's hand descended upon your head, his touch gentle yet commanding as he stroked your hair like a prized possession. His fingers traced the curve of your skull with an almost possessive reverence, eliciting a shiver of submission that coursed through your veins. In the silent exchange between you each caress was a silent affirmation of his dominance. With a soft, whispered command, he guided your head to rest upon his thigh, the weight of your submission a tangible presence that settled between. In this intimate tableau, you surrendered yourself completely to his will, your breath mingling with the fabric of his pants as you lay vulnerable and exposed before him, a willing captive to his every whim.

“Sei carina, lo sai? Look up at me with those big innocent eyes. Wanna seduce me, piccola?” As Sukuna's hand firmly grasped your head, a jolt of arousal surged through you, your pulse quickening with an intensity that matched the grip of his fingers. The sensation of his touch, commanding yet possessive, sent a thrill through, igniting a fire of desire that burned hotter with each passing moment. Caught in the vice-like grip of his hand, you felt a surge of excitement welling up within you, your breath hitching in your throat as you succumbed to the intoxicating power of his dominance. The boundaries between fear and desire blurred into nothingness, your body responding instinctively to his commanding presence with a hunger that you could scarcely contain.

“D–Did you just call me cute?”

“Is that all you have to say about it?”, With a deft motion, Sukuna's thumb traced the line of your cheek, his touch both possessive and tender as he caressed your skin with a commanding intimacy. As his thumb lingered at the corner of your lips, a surge of anticipation rippled through you, your breath catching in your throat at the tantalizing prospect of what was to come. With a boldness born of desire, you parted your lips ever so slightly, inviting him to delve deeper into the depths of your surrender. Without hesitation, Sukuna's thumb slipped past your lips, his touch igniting a symphony of sensations that danced upon your tongue. The taste of him was intoxicating, a heady blend of power and desire that left you dizzy with need. You surrendered yourself completely to his touch, you felt a primal connection forming between you, binding you together in a web of desire that defied all logic and reason. And as you savored the taste of him upon your lips, you knew that you belonged to him utterly and completely, your surrender a testament to the irresistible pull of his dominance.

With an air of unwavering confidence, Sukuna basked in your submission, relishing in the power he wielded over you. His gaze, smoldering with desire and dominance, held you captive, each glance a silent command that you willingly obeyed. As he felt you yield to his touch, a predatory smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, his satisfaction evident in the way he savored your surrender. With a voice that dripped with authority, he leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear as he posed the question that hung between you like a tantalizing promise. “Che brava. Wanna make me feel good, piccola? Wanna taste something else?” he murmured, his words laced with a potent blend of desire and challenge.

With a silent nod, you affirmed your desire to delve deeper into the intoxicating dance of submission and dominance that bound you to Sukuna. Your breath hitched in anticipation as you watched him lean back with a self-assured grace, his movements deliberate as he reached for the buckle of his pants. The sound of leather against metal echoed in the hushed room, each click and slide a symphony of anticipation. With each movement, the air seemed to crackle with an electrifying tension, the promise of what was to come hanging heavy between you like a veil of desire. As he freed himself from the confines of his pants, a thrill of excitement surged through you. As you watched him bare himself before you, you knew that there was no turning back — you were his, body and soul, bound to him in a fiery embrace of passion and submission.

He was big. Bigger than you were used to. It was veiny, long, thick and circumcised. “Ti piace, piccola?” Him speaking Italian turned you on even more. It suited him – his aura, his appearance, his dominance.

With a mixture of trepidation and eagerness, you lowered yourself before Sukuna, your heart pounding in your chest with a heady mixture of anticipation and desire. As you met his gaze, you found yourself ensnared by the raw intensity of his eyes, their smoldering depths fueling the flames of your arousal. With trembling hands, you traced the contours of his thighs, your touch a silent prayer for permission as you inched closer to your purpose. And when you felt the heat of him against your lips, a thrill surged through you, your mouth watering with a hunger that mirrored the primal need that pulsed within your veins.

“Brava piccola.” With a commanding yet tender touch, Sukuna threaded his fingers through your hair, guiding your movements with a firm guidance that left you breathless with desire. As you wrapped your lips around his cock, you savored the taste of him upon your tongue. With each eager suck and swirl of your tongue, you sought to please him, your own pleasure intertwined with the intoxicating thrill of his approval.

As the heat of passion consumed you, Sukuna's dominance surged to the forefront, his grip on your hair tightening with a commanding force as he pushed your head down onto him with an urgency that bordered on ferocity. He started fucking your face, with each rough thrust, he plunged deeper into the depths of your mouth, his movements guided by an insatiable hunger. The air was thick with the heady scent of your shared arousal, the sound of your ragged breaths mingling with the wet, slick sounds of his cock going deep into your throat. In the depths of your submission your senses were overwhelmed by the dizzying whirlwind of pleasure and pain.

“Hmm…fuck, you feel perfect, piccola. Was made to suck my cock. Look at you, taking it in so good.”

With each forceful thrust, Sukuna primal desire surged forth, his movements a testament to the raw intensity of his need. As he plunged deeper into your mouth, you felt yourself teetering on the edge of oblivion, your senses drowning in the overwhelming tide of sensation. The taste of him upon your tongue was intoxicating, a heady blend of power and passion that left you trembling with desire. Suddenly he pulled you off his cock, leaving you out of breath, your cheeks soaked with your tears.

You lowered your head, licking and sucking his balls as you started to jerk him off simultaneously. As you lavished attention upon him, your mouth and hands working in tandem to pleasure him, he unleashed a torrent of dirty whispers that sent shivers cascading down your spine.

“My good little girl.”

“You’ll make daddy cum, piccola.”

“Fuck, makes me want to make you mine, principessa.”

His voice, low and husky with desire, filled the air with a symphony of erotic promises, each word a tantalizing invitation to delve deeper into the depths of the shared ecstasy. Your own desire surged to dizzying heights, your arousal palpable in the slick heat that pooled between your thighs.

As the crescendo of pleasure reached its peak, Sukuna's primal instincts surged forth, his release imminent and inevitable. With a guttural groan of satisfaction, he surrendered himself to the relentless tide of ecstasy, his body tensing with the force of his climax. In a torrent of raw passion, he came, his hot seed spilling forth, coating your face with its warmth. You gasped in surprise and ecstasy as you felt him release, your skin bathed in the sticky warmth of his essence. And as you looked up at him with eyes glazed with desire, you knew that in that moment, you had become a vessel for his pleasure, your own desires subservient to the intoxicating power of his dominance.

As Sukuna beheld the aftermath of his release, a smug grin spread across his lips, his satisfaction evident in the arrogant tilt of his chin. With a sense of ownership that bordered on arrogance, he surveyed you before him, your face adorned with the evidence of his dominance. His gaze lingered on the trails of his cum that glistened upon your skin, a testament to the primal power he wielded over you. With a low chuckle that reverberated through the room, he voiced his approval, relishing in the sight of his essence decorating your face like a badge of honor.

“Suits you, piccola. You look pretty with my cum all over your slutty face. Should take a picture as blackmail material.” For Sukuna, there was no greater pleasure than seeing his cum adorning your face, a physical manifestation of his power and control over you. He gazed upon you with a possessive gleam in his eyes, he knew that he had claimed you completely, body and soul, in a fiery embrace of dominance and submission.

With a swift and fluid motion, Sukuna straightened himself, the clink of his belt buckle punctuating the air as he secured it with a confident flick of his wrist. His movements were calculated and precise, every gesture a testament to the unwavering confidence that defined his persona. As he stood before you, your gaze lingered on him, your breath catching in your throat at the sight of his commanding presence. With a final glance, he bestowed upon you a smug smirk, a silent acknowledgment of the power he held over you.

“Would love to fuck your sweet lil’ pussy right now but I still have some business to attend to, piccola. By the way, you have two more weeks for that money. Next time around it won’t end this way.”

Without another word, Sukuna turned on his heel and made his way toward the door, his steps echoing in the quiet room with a sense of finality. His departure left a palpable void in his wake, a reminder of the fleeting nature of their passionate encounter. And as he disappeared into the shadows, you left alone with your thoughts, your body still humming with the remnants of the pleasure you gave him. You knew that you would forever be under his spell, your desires forever entwined with his in a web of lust and submission. Though you did wish that he would have did something to you.

Just when you decided to play with yourself you heard your phone ring – a message from an unknown number.

Ciao piccola, wait for daddy. I’ll be back in two hours. I want your pussy to be soaking wet.

#𓂃⊹ ִֶָ 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu sukuna #jjk sukuna #sukuna jjk #sukuna ryomen #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna smut

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ozzgin · 5 months

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Yandere! Monster x Reader [Werewolf]

In Romanian mythology, Pricolici is an evil spirit believed to be born after the death of wicked humans, able to transform into certain animals such as ferocious dogs and wolves. The etymology is unknown, although it's suspected to be of Dacian origin, thus going as far back in time as the 1st century BC. An ancient creature has set its predatory eyes on you.

Winner of the Folklore Monster Poll celebrating Romanian history!

TW: obsessive behavior, violence, death

[Horror Masterlist] [More Headcanons]

He can tell it's a dream. Nonetheless, it always feels unbearably real. He can smell the incense, hear the hurried trample of feet underneath him. He wants to open his mouth and demand they stop. No words ever come out, the throat is dry and flattened by heavy despair. It's a dream, after all. The priests march on, and the spears are lifted. For a moment, he's blinded by their powerful, sharp glisten. As he gazes at the sacred circle, it occurs to him just how uncomfortable the shackles are. He becomes somewhat distracted by this irritating friction, so much he doesn't register the instructions given by the mysterious men.

Centuries later, he would stumble upon an old history book by Herodotus that detailed his misfortune:

"The Getae are the bravest of the Thracians and the most just. They believe they are immortal, forever living, in the following sense: they think they do not die and that the one who dies joins Zalmoxis, a divine being. Every four years, they send a messenger to Zalmoxis, who is chosen by chance. They ask him to tell Zalmoxis what they want on that occasion. The mission is performed in the following way: men standing there for that purpose hold three spears; other people take the one who is sent to Zalmoxis by his hands and feet and fling him in the air on the spears. If he dies pierced, they think that the divinity is going to help them; if he does not die, it is he who is accused and they declare that he is a bad person. And, after he has been charged, they send another one. The messenger is told the requests while he is still alive."

The foreign hands tighten around his limbs and he takes a deep breath in, ready for the plunge. Truth be told, he's not too anxious. The first time was terrifying, but one becomes accustomed to death if it repeats itself, night after night as the years pass and millennia settle over it, like a thick blanket of ash and bone and dust. He doesn't remember the pain anymore, only the bitterness. The wrath. He had no business playing God's messenger. He hadn't wished to be choking on his own blood, rippling violently at the corners of his mouth as his eyes dart over the excited masses. There are claps and cheers, and hope, and peace. Just not for him.

No matter, if they long so dearly after eternity, he'll become their very proof. A tangible undead, a creature of eternity. Let them gaze at their ardent desire as it claws their bowels out for the birds to feed on. Let them sing praise before their God as their soft throats detangle under his fangs. Before he knows it, the corpses lay mangled at his feet and he notices his horrid reflection swaying in the puddles of fresh blood.

He has become a beast.

And just like that, the nightmare ends. It always ends here. He pats the sweat off his forehead with the monotonous vigor of habit. It's already noon and the narrow street flocks with curious tourists and natives on their stroll. Every now and then he will venture into the city, just to get a glimpse of the world. He twists the knob and opens a window, enjoying the breeze that cools his skin. His tired eyes wander around with no purpose.

That's when he sees you. Your wide, carefree smile as you converse with your friend. You're drawing circles along the edge of your coffee cup, propped over the table, entranced by your discussion. Your gentle laugh rings unexpectedly loud against his ears. He finds himself frozen in place, unable to contract a single muscle.

"Oh, this trail is supposed to have some really nice sights." Your friend is shuffling through unfolded maps, spread out onto the small café table. "We should leave pretty early though, otherwise it'll get dark before the return."

You groan at the idea. Your friend responds with a chuckle.

"Remember, our tour guide joked about werewolves roaming the outskirts. Do you want to be eaten?" She inquires with a cheeky grin.

"You know I have a thing for monsters." You answer with a wink.

The jokes carry on until the bill arrives, and you eventually stand up and merrily make your way down the street. For a brief moment you feel a cold shiver running down your spine, so you peek back inquisitively. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Ah. By the time his focus returns, the sun is setting, reflecting its crimson rays over the old cobblestone. You've been gone for a while, so he must've been staring into the nothingness for good hours. He clears his throat, mildly embarrassed by his absent-mindedness. He isn't hungry, so he has trouble explaining his sudden captivation with a random human.

Even more bizarre is the consequence of the accidental encounter. The following nights are devoid of the usual torment. Has he ever had a peaceful slumber before? He can't recall. And yet here he is, vacantly eyeing the ceiling without the labored breath or cold shivers, faintly reminiscing about your amused expression. He frowns slightly at the realization that his recollection seems to contain less details compared to yesterday. Your face is smudged by the intense light of the noon, titled at an angle that allows no shadows to discern the features. What will he do when it's entirely gone? A faceless memory, anchored in the depths of his heart as a reminder of what could've been. Is there some universal law that dictates only misery remains unforgotten, or is he just exceptionally unlucky? Infuriating.

The overwhelming sensation creeps upon him again. A primordial vengefulness that hasn't yet released him from its cold, bony fingers. For once, can't he be granted fairness? His jaw clenches and he marches out of the room.

Tonight shall be a feast.

The lights are still on in the little tavern inn, and through the small windows he can make out the lively movement of the people inside. He glances at the waning moon one final time. The world may change, and the years may pass, but one thing has never left him throughout the centuries. Always bearing the same pallid, melancholic countenance, his taciturn companion rises, indifferent to the Universe.

His back arches outwards, the bones tear and twist, the joints dislocate and the skin is giving way to coarse, thick fur. His eyes now carry an amber glow as they rest on the modest building. Without further hesitation, he pounces on the door and it folds like cardboard under his inhuman strength. The room goes quiet and all heads turn to him. He recognizes that look. A fleeting second of fear and curiosity, before true panic settles in. But they rarely have the time to scream. Just as the vocal chords contract and vibrate, their chests are trashed and limbs are tattered. Splattered visceral remains and blood coat the ground under his feral attack.

You squeeze your eyes closed and force your hands over your mouth to ensure your stillness to the massacre. You were just returning from the bathroom when you heard the wails and the wet sounds of mutilated flesh. You'd ducked behind the wall and hid under an end table. What the hell is that creature? You initially thought a wild wolf had somehow made its way into the tavern, but no animal can be this large. There is a backdoor, but on the other side of this hall. You'd have to sprint across the archway that leads into the main room. Then again, if it's this busy ripping the others apart...

No need to ponder your options much. Silence falls behind you, which means the creature must have finished its horrid sport early. His snout picks up a particular scent and he tenses up, expectantly. Could it be?

The wooden parquet tiles creak under the weight of foreign footsteps; a human approaching you. You look up from under the table. Has someone dealt with the beast? Although you immediately regret revealing yourself. You freeze in your spot, hands propped on the ground, like prey awaiting execution.

The man is unnaturally tall, having to crouch under the ceiling, with wild black hair and rough features. His chiseled face is painted red, and his clothing is torn apart and soaked in blood. His large hands end in sharp claws, and amid his ruffled locks you can distinguish animal ears.

There you are.

Well, quite the irony to meet you here of all times and places. From this distance, you look even prettier. He bends over slightly to examine the details that have faded since the first encounter. A surreal experience, really. Seeing you kneel right in front of him and not as a figment of his imagination. He extends his fingers over your face and presses his nails in, leaving a vague trail of swollen, red skin. What a frail being you are.

"Your friend is alive, by the way." His deep, dissonant voice pierces the silence.

"O-oh." You gasp. You were so anxious you barely understood the meaning of his words.

"You may check on her if you so desire, however..."

He considers it. Normally, even after allowing his anger to seep into cadavers and ruins, all he's left with is disgust and emptiness. Yet your presence seems to fill him with unfamiliar comfort. If one is drowning, is it truly selfish to hold onto the first thing that keeps them afloat? The only people who'd condemn such beggar are the ones that have never been underwater. They don't know what it's like to have your lungs tighten and collapse under the heavy pressure, waving your arms towards a surface that's never reached.

"...You'll be coming with me afterwards."

You can only stare.

"Don't worry, I won't kill you." He attempts to simulate a smile. "I suppose I'm not too convincing like this", he jokes as he gestures towards his body, "But you have my word I'll never harm you."

"Why, though?" You manage to stutter, frowning in confusion.

He's taken aback by your inquiry. Perhaps his statement is indeed more threatening than anything else. On the other hand, he hasn't conversed with humans in...longer than he can remember. What might pose as convincing in this case? Drawing out a rose and confessing his undying love among the bodies he murdered feels rather ridiculous. Suddenly, a passage he's once read comes to mind. At the time, it depressed him greatly. Now it feels like the only fitting reasoning.

"Do you believe in destiny? That even the powers of time can be altered for a single purpose? That the luckiest man who walks on this earth is the one who finds… true love?"

"Isn't that from Stoker's Dracula? How is it-"

You pause and search his eyes. Golden trenches of loneliness and gloom. Your heart is heavy and your mouth curls into a grimace the longer you stare into these pools swirling with agony.

"I understand." Is all you can mutter as you stand up.

Have you had a choice to begin with? Not even the frothing waves of a storming ocean can come between a dying man and his only raft.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere fic #yandere imagines #yandere monster #yandere monster x reader #monster x reader #werewolf x reader #yandere werewolf #female reader #gender neutral reader #yandere horror #horror x reader #yandere oc #romanian folklore

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alastors-antlers · 3 months

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a brief take on the whole "Alastor's smile is permanent" discussion

hello all!

I've seen a lot of people theorizing lately that Alastor actually smiles all the time because his smile is magically, physically fixed onto his face. All of this seems to come from the fact that he's practically grimacing rather than smiling during the scene where he breaks down in ep8:

As well as this frame of his deal with Charlie: (lower res sorry)

I will say, I do like some of the implications of this theory. The sheer spite of his creditor forcing him to smile as an addition to their deal, almost like a sort of forced silence, is a neat concept. It's fun and dramatic. Plus, of all things, of course Alastor would claim the "smile at all times" policy and make it his own to pretend that it was his decision all along lol.

To be fair, though, I don't think we even need any magical compulsion to explain why he's smiling while he's having a mental breakdown. Actually, if we assume magical compulsion, I think we lose a bit of dimension from Alastor's character. (No judgement to anyone's take though, of course -- I just think this works in the direction of his established characterization, but obviously all personal takes <3)

Hear me out:

Alastor's persona is not just for others to see.

"A smile is a valuable tool, my dear. It inspires your friends; keeps your enemies guessing; and ensures that whatever comes your way, you're the one in control."

That makes sense given what we know about him. If he's always smiling, he seems like he has it together. You can't read him very well, especially not when he's actively trying to keep up appearances.

Now consider that when you think about ep8's fight with Heaven, we see that he's already been through so much in this one day.

He fights an army of angels, presumably not even at his own whim (if we go by his blurb about freedom in the Finale song); he loses to Adam, who he considers sloppy and mediocre; his staff, which we can assume holds some part of his power, is snapped; he comes close to being Angelic-power-killed; and to top it all off, he knows that others watched him get injured and then apparently die or flee, all of which would ruin the public image that he's trying to maintain. It wouldn't even be unreasonable for us to assume that he knows Vox was watching, given that Vox kind of has eyes everywhere.

In a moment like this, in the finale, you could say that Alastor has lost (at least on some level) everything that we know matters to him. He doesn't have access to all of his magic, and it's limiting him. He's reminded that he doesn't have freedom or control over his own destiny. He certainly has taken massive hits to his powerful, composed persona. But he's desperate, and furious, and terrified, and clinging on.

That's why he's smiling.

It's not that he can't stop because he physically can't. It's that he can't stop because to him, the smile is the last thing that is still within his power. When there are so many moving parts that he can't predict what happens to him next, he can control how he responds to it. In these last fragments of autonomy, there is solace.

He needs to keep telling himself that he has it together and that he'll eventually scheme his way free, that there's a solution, that he won't be in chains forever; because letting his pretense slip would be admitting that it's all starting to actually get to him. That maybe this time, he doesn't have an escape plan.

In addition, if you read his interactions throughout the series, we also see something else: Alastor's reputation is of paramount importance to him. At multiple points throughout the series, when others disrespect him by discounting his power or presence, he gets visibly annoyed. And in the battle, we see a glimpse of the part of his personality he seems to be trying to leave behind - a normal Alastor, who's just some guy from Louisiana. No transatlantic accent; no unflappable malice; no sharp wit waiting at the ready. Maybe even unremarkable.

Dropping his smile - arguably the most prominent part of his brand - would be admitting that in reality, he's not the Radio Demon of legend that he aspires to project. And if he doesn't have that... where would he be?

#alastor meta #alastor analysis #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor meta #hazbin meta #hazbin alastor analysis #bro I love this guy so much

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jewishvitya · 7 months

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[This post was originally written in response to someone tagging me and claiming that a free Palestine would mean all Israeli Jews will be kicked out and where will I go, and how they can't understand why I'm so against Israel being our ethnostate. OP blocked me, so I'm reposting with a few edits, because I already wrote this and I might as well.]

Look. I understand your mentality. We're traumatized by a history of violence against us. We were shown that so many in the world want us dead, and so many others won't stop them. I get it. But I refuse to let myself silently become the face of similar oppression for other people.

Israel benefits from antisemitism and maintains myths that got Jewish people killed in the past, like double loyalty. It weaponizes it for propaganda reasons. It's supported by antisemitic Christian zionist organizations with terrifying motivations. It started out with violence not only against Palestinians but against Jews too. Israel isn't motivated by our safety, it abuses that idea. It manipulates and weaponizes our trauma to make us feel justified in causing so much suffering to innocent people.

You're right that I'll have nowhere to go if I'm kicked out of here. This is where I was born. My parents come from other countries that I won't feel safe in. But all of this is hypothetical. The ethnic cleansing and genocide of Palestinians is not hypothetical, it's REALITY. It's happening RIGHT NOW. And I don't understand how, as a Jewish person who knows what this kind of suffering and loss of life means, you seem unable to prioritize that. I tell you I'm witnessing a genocide happening right next to me and you keep telling me "but what if they hurt you instead."

The assumption that Palestinians will pull some sort of reverse ethnic cleansing against us is racist. This assumption is the reason Israel feels comfortable calling the carpet bombing of a civilian population "self defense." Killing them based on a this is not self defense, it's a racially motivated crime against humanity.

And I'm calling it an assumption because I'm not willing to pull from the Hamas charter that they've since replaced. Hamas isn't Palestinians. The only reason they became this powerful is Israeli funding, and Israeli violence giving Hamas free PR as the only ones who will stand up to the state that will keep them trapped and dying.

We control every aspect of their lives. Israel created a place that breeds radicalization. No group of people, living under the conditions forced on Palestinians, would be peaceful. They would fight back. Because peaceful attempts to have the human rights that Israel denies them got nothing. We stomped on every single one. We blocked all other routes and left them with only violence, which Israeli politicians have been using as an excuse for over 15 years to make a show of force with military campaigns whenever they wanted a boost in popularity. We created living conditions with such low life expectancy that half of the population is children because so few adults survive. They don't deserve this. No one deserves this.

Palestine was a land with people living in it. One plot of land can create multiple groups of people, especially when we've been separated for 2000 years. Our connection to this land does not cancel out theirs. Removing them to create our own country could never be right. It's not an argument saying that our connection to Israel gives us the right to move here to live ALONGSIDE Palestinians. That's not what we wanted. We wanted a country that enforces Jewish majority and legally prioritizes Jews. You're justifying this when I repeatedly state that the only way for it to exist is through ethnic cleansing and genocide. There's no way to make this concept into a reality without killing, displacing, and oppressing whoever's left in various different ways, from apartheid to other kinds of discrimination.

I'm not against safety for us. I want to be safe. I want my children to grow in a safe world where we can be openly and joyfully Jewish. I'm not willing to pay for that with the lives and freedoms of other people.

So I will be loud about this: Palestinians deserve to be free in every part of their homeland, even if it's our ancestral homeland too.

If safety for us means we're the ones committing the genocide, maybe we should rethink what safety looks like.

I'm terrified for the lives of millions of people in Gaza. Right now, all I can think about is this, and it baffles me to see people so willing to transfer the horrors of our history to other people.

I had a lovely conversation in DMs in response to the first post, about how zionism encourages us to isolate rather than build bridges in the places where we live all over the world. We can't ignore the way antisemitism saturates culture, but we should also remember the places where Jewish communities thrived for centuries, the places where our neighbors protected us. We're hated, and we're loved. Each form of oppression is unique, so no other group experiences what Jewish people do exactly, but we're not alone. We have a long and rich history of solidarity with other marginalized communities and involvement in liberation movements. We're actively working to make the world safer, and we have people fighting with us. I'm just participating in this fight where I am. The struggle for liberation is a human struggle. You can't use the trauma of antisemitism to silence me about other kinds of bigotry.

Never again. To ANYONE.

#riki babbles

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theetherealbloom · 11 days

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YOU'RE THE RISK, I'M GONNA TAKE IT

Summary: You help your boss, Joel Miller, buy flowers for his date. Or so you thought.

Paring: No Outbreak!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings: FLUFF, SMUT, Light Angst, Reader Dislikes Roses (i also dislike them :P), Kissing, Cheesy, Crush, Grumpy Single Dad, Office/Workplace Romance, Assistant!Reader, Billionaire!Joel, CEO!Joel, Boss!Joel, She Falls First and He Falls Harder Trope, Grumpy/Sunshine Trope, Idiots-In-Love, Confessions, PWP (wrap it up ya’ll), Fingering, Power Imbalance, Pet Names, ‘Good Girl’, ‘Darlin’,

Word Count: 4.2k

A/N: SOOOO WE’VE ALL SEEN THAT PIC RIGHT???? FML, if I ever saw that man carrying flowers and gifting them to me, I would marry him right away.

This is for @morallyinept Jett’s Flora & Fauna Writing Challenge for May! I was obviously inspired by the picture in the moodboard above and my love for Gracie Abram’s new song Risk! Likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated, thank you all for reading and supporting my deluluness tehe.

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: Risk by Gracie Abrams

Main Masterlist

In the elegant floral shop, the scent of fresh blooms enveloped you as you stood beside your boss, Joel Miller, a man of many responsibilities and hidden depths. His piercing gaze fixed on a display of vibrant roses, seeking your opinion on a matter close to his heart - choosing the perfect flowers for a date.

Joel, a handsome billionaire with a company to run, a daughter to care for, and a brother to watch over, often sought your counsel on matters both personal and professional. Whether it was a crucial business decision or selecting a gift for Sarah's upcoming birthday, he valued your input more than he let on.

You studied the roses with a critical eye, your brows furrowing slightly as you considered the implications of his choice. "I think Lauren will love it," you finally offered, your voice tinged with a hint of reservation at the mention of Joel's recent romantic interest.

The name 'Lauren' left a bitter taste in your mouth, a woman who seemed more interested in Joel's wealth and status than in him as a person. You couldn't shake the feeling that she was using him for her own gain, and the thought of Joel falling for her facade made your stomach churn.

Joel's keen observation didn't miss the subtle shift in your demeanor. "Why are you makin' that face?" he questioned, his narrowed eyes fixed on you with a mix of curiosity and concern.

Your heart raced at being caught off guard, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "What face?" you attempted to deflect, but Joel saw through your facade with unnerving accuracy.

"The one you make when you don't like somethin'. You're scrunchin' your nose and everythin'," he pointed out, his gesture leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable.

Caught in his perceptive gaze, you struggled to find the right words, knowing that you couldn't deceive him. There was an unspoken connection between you, a bond that transcended the boundaries of employer and assistant, leaving you feeling both exhilarated and unnerved by his proximity.

Joel's expectant gaze bore into you, his hand resting casually on his hip as he awaited your response, a subtle sign of his contemplation or frustration. The air between you crackled with unspoken tension, a silent understanding passing between you as you navigated the delicate dance of honesty and restraint in your shared space.

You settled for the truth, pinching your lips as if you were thinking how to phrase the next few words, eventually meeting his brown eyes and saying, "I don't like roses." The words hung in the air, a confession that felt both liberating and terrifying.

Joel's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his expression a mix of curiosity and amusement. Before he could respond, you cut him off, rambling on in a nervous attempt to clarify your thoughts. "I know, I know, it's just... my preference. It's not that I don't find them pretty... I do. It's just, sometimes it feels like there's no thought into getting someone roses."

You really should shut up, but you couldn't stop, your words tumbling out in a rush. "That's not to say you're not like putting in the effort to get Lauren... roses or something. It's just there's a whole language to flowers and their meaning, and there's definitely more options than just a whole bouquet of roses."

The silence that followed was oppressive, Joel's eyes roaming all over your figure as if taking in every detail. You felt like you were going to vomit, because there was no way you had just told your boss that he wasn't being thoughtful as he was getting the bitch flowers.

"What d'you like then?" Joel's deep voice asked, his tone low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine. You took a moment to formulate an answer, your heart racing with anticipation.

"Red Peonies," you swallowed, the words feeling like a revelation.

"Why?" Joel asked, his eyes never leaving yours, and you swear he took a small step closer to you, the distance between you shrinking to almost nothing.

"Besides it representing love, it also represents passion, honour and respect," you explained, trying to sound calm despite the turmoil inside. "There's just something more to it, I guess."

The air was tense, Joel's gaze burning into you like a brand. You felt like you were drowning in the depths of his eyes, the silence between you a palpable thing. You knew you should look away, but you couldn't, your gaze locked onto his as if drawn by an unseen force.

The world around you melted away, leaving only the two of you, suspended in a moment of raw emotion. You knew that you had crossed a line, but you couldn't help the way you felt. The truth was out, and now you just had to face the consequences.

The sharp chime of a phone shattered the charged silence between you, pulling you both back to the reality of the moment. You reluctantly pulled out your phone, a sigh escaping your lips as you delivered the news. "Your 3 p.m. meeting with Bill and Frank is coming up. We should buy those roses and go—"

But before you could finish, Joel interjected, his voice firm yet tinged with a hint of reluctance. "We can come back for them later."

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard by his sudden change of heart. Quickly regaining your composure, you slipped back into your assistant mode. "I could have them delivered and—"

"Don't worry about it, darlin'," Joel cut you off, his deep Southern drawl sending a shiver down your spine. "Let's go to the damn meeting before Tess starts tellin' me off again."

Without another word, Joel strode towards the waiting car, the driver opening the door as you followed, slipping into the plush leather seat beside him. The tension in the air was palpable, the unspoken emotions between you thick enough to cut with a knife.

As the car pulled away from the curb, you found yourself acutely aware of Joel's presence, his warmth and the subtle scent of his cologne enveloping you. The silence stretched on, neither of you quite sure how to navigate the charged atmosphere that had settled over the two of you.

You stole a glance at Joel, his brow furrowed in thought, his fingers drumming a restless rhythm on the armrest. You longed to reach out, to bridge the gap that had suddenly opened between you, but the weight of your professional relationship held you back.

The drive to the office was a blur, the familiar sights and sounds of the city passing by in a haze as your mind raced with a thousand unspoken thoughts. When the car finally pulled to a stop, you both exited in silence, the weight of the unresolved tension hanging heavy in the air.

As you made your way through the bustling lobby, Joel's hand brushed against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. You couldn't help but wonder if the touch was intentional, a silent acknowledgment of the connection that simmered beneath the surface.

But as you turned to leave, Joel's voice stopped you in your tracks. "Darlin'," he murmured, his eyes filled with a depth of emotion that took your breath away. "We need to talk."

Your heart pounded in your chest as you turned to face him, unsure of what could possibly be running through Joel's mind. The intensity of his gaze only added to the butterflies in your stomach, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of hope and trepidation at what he might say.

"What is it, Joel?" You asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside you.

He took a step closer to you, his expression serious as he reached out and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Your heart skipped a beat at his touch, and you couldn't help but lean into it.

"I can't ignore this any longer," Joel began, his voice low and full of raw emotion. "I've been trying to fight it, but I can't deny how I feel about you any longer."

Your breath caught in your throat as he spoke those words, a rush of emotions flooding through you. Could it be possible that Joel felt the same way about you? Or was this all just some cruel joke?

"Joel..." You started, but he cut you off with a shake of his head.

"No, let me finish," he said firmly. "Ever since I first laid eyes on you, I haven't been able to get you out of my head. And when we spent that night together at the charity event...I knew then that I had feelings for you."

You were speechless, unable to believe what was happening. You had harbored secret feelings for Joel for so long and never thought they would be reciprocated.

"I know there's the whole boss-assistant dynamic between us," Joel continued with a small self-deprecating smile. "But I can't let that hold me back from telling you how I feel."

A mix of emotions swirled inside you, and you couldn't help but feel torn. On one hand, you wanted to give into the feelings that had been building between you and Joel for so long. But on the other hand, the thought of risking your professional relationship and possibly even your job was a daunting prospect.

"Joel, I-I don't know what to say," you stammered, feeling overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment.

He reached out and took your hand in his, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You don't have to say anything right now," he said softly. "I just needed to tell you how I feel."

Silence fell between you as you both stood there, lost in your own thoughts. You were torn between what your heart wanted and what your head was telling you was logical.

Finally, after what felt like hours, you gathered the courage to speak again. "Joel, I care about you too," you admitted quietly. "But there are so many complications..."

"I know," he said with a sad smile. "But we can figure it out together."

His words filled you with hope and warmth, but at the same time fear also crept in. You knew that pursuing a romantic relationship with Joel would be risky and could potentially cause problems at work.

Before either of you could say more, there was a knock on Joel's office door. Startled out of your reverie, you both turned to see Chelsea peeking her head inside.

"Hey guys, sorry to interrupt," she said apologetically. "But, Mr. Miller, we have that meeting with McKenna about the upcoming merger in 10 minutes."

After Chelsea left, Joel turned back to you, a hopeful expression on his face. "Can I see you later? Outside of work, I mean."

Your heart raced at the thought of spending more time with him outside of the office. You knew it was risky and could potentially cause problems, but the thrill of taking a chance with Joel was too enticing to resist.

"I'd like that...a lot," you replied, unable to stop a small smile from forming on your lips.

His face lit up at your response and he took a step closer towards you. "Can I kiss you?" he asked hesitantly.

You nodded eagerly. "Yes, please."

Without any hesitation, Joel leaned down and gently pressed his lips against yours. It was a gentle kiss at first, but quickly became more passionate as the chemistry between you two intensified. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as he deepened the kiss.

Eventually, the need for air forced you both to pull away. You gazed into each other's eyes, both panting slightly from the intensity of the moment.

"I should go," you said reluctantly.

Joel nodded and gave your hand one last squeeze before letting go. "I'll see you later then? I’ll meet you at your place.”

You smiled and nodded before heading out of his office. As you walked back to your own desk, your mind raced with thoughts of Joel and what this could all mean for your future.

Later that evening, as you heard a knock at your door, you couldn't help but feel excited and nervous. You had been thinking about Joel all day and now here he was, standing outside your door with a beautiful bouquet of peonies.

You quickly peeked through the door viewer, confirming that it was indeed Joel standing there. Your heart fluttered in your chest as you took a deep breath and opened the door.

"Hi Sweetheart," he said with his perfect smile, his dimple making an appearance on the left corner of his cheek.

"Hey," you replied with a bashful smile. "Come in."

Joel stepped inside, holding out the vase of peonies towards you. "I brought these for you," he said, his eyes sparkling with affection.

You took them from him and breathed in their sweet scent. "Oh, Joel, you remembered.”

"Anythin’ for you," Joel said with a small grin.

You couldn't help but feel touched by his thoughtfulness. "Thank you for remembering. They're beautiful. Thank you."

He shrugged nonchalantly before turning to take off his shoes. "So what should we do tonight? I can cook us dinner or we could go out somewhere if you prefer."

The idea of Joel cooking for you sounded wonderful, but at the same time, going out together also seemed like an exciting adventure.

"How about we have dinner here tonight and then we can go out tomorrow?" You suggested.

"That sounds perfect," Joel agreed with a smile.

As he prepared dinner in your kitchen, the two of you chatted comfortably about work and other random topics. It felt easy to talk to Joel and be around him, like it was just natural for the two of you to be together.

After enjoying a delicious dinner cooked by Joel (who turned out to be quite the chef), the two of you sat on your couch watching a movie. As the movie played on, you couldn't help but steal glances at Joel, his eyes intense as they flicked between the screen and your face. The air between you crackled with an unspoken tension, the soft glow of the TV casting shadows that danced across his features.

Joel shifted slightly, his arm brushing against yours and sending a shiver down your spine. You turned to him, your heart pounding in your chest, and found yourself caught in his gaze. Without a word, he leaned in closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours.

The world around you faded away as Joel's mouth finally met yours in a searing kiss. His hands roamed over your body, igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume everything in its path. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, becoming more urgent, more desperate.

You melted into each other, lost in a haze of passion and desire. Clothes were shed in a frenzy of need, skin meeting skin in a symphony of sensation. Joel's touch was electric, sending sparks throughout your body and setting every nerve on fire.

As you lay intertwined on the couch, your breathing heavy and your bodies covered in a thin sheen of sweat, Joel's eyes searched yours intensely.

"I've wanted to do this for so long," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear.

You couldn't form words as he began trailing kisses down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. His hands explored every inch of your body, worshipping you with his touch.

"I want you," you finally managed to say, arching your back as he grazed his teeth along your collarbone.

With a growl, Joel lifted you up into his arms and carried you to the bedroom.

He laid you down on the bed with a hunger in his eyes that sent shivers down your spine. His hands roamed over your body, tracing every curve and dip as if he was mapping out his favorite treasure. You moaned softly as his lips grazed over your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

Joel's kisses grew more urgent, more demanding, igniting a primal need within you. You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as you whispered his name like a prayer. He captured your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth with a fierce intensity that made your head spin.

He teased and tormented you with his touch, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Your breath hitched as he plunged into you, filling you completely and setting your senses ablaze.

The rhythm between you grew frantic, fueled by a hunger that could not be satisfied. Every thrust brought you closer to the edge, your body yearning for his touch, craving the sweet release that only he could bring.

He whispered filthy words into your ear, his voice gruff and raw with desire. "You want it," he growled, "You need it." His fingers gripped your hips, guiding you onto his shaft with deliberate precision. You groaned, lost in the ecstasy of his touch, your body begging for more.

He kissed you fiercely, his tongue dueling with yours, their movements synchronized with the wild rhythm of their bodies. His hands roamed over your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, as he explored every inch of your body with a possessive possessiveness.

You moaned, writhing against him, your body trembling with need, your heart pounding in sync with the frantic beat of his, as he plunged deeper into you with each thrust. Your nails dug into his back, leaving crescent marks that would later serve as a reminder of this night.

His lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of wet kisses as he nuzzled your collarbone, then your chest, and finally your nipples, which hardened under the gentle caress of his tongue. You arched your back, your body craving for more, as his hands cupped your breasts, kneading them with a ferocity that made you gasp.

As he continued to ravage your body, you could feel the heat building between your legs, a fiery ache that begged for relief. Your hips bucked against his, seeking that sweet release, the friction sending spears of pleasure through you. He groaned, his own arousal swelling, and he thrust harder, his hips meshing with yours.

His hands roamed your body, caressing your curves, leaving trails of electricity in their wake. You arched your back, your breasts thrusting forward, begging for his attention. He didn't disappoint, his mouth closing over one taut nipple, teeth gently scraping against the sensitive flesh, while his other hand trailed down your side, slipping between your legs.

Your breath hitched as his fingers found their mark, teasing your swollen folds, sending shivers of anticipation coursing through you. Your body trembled, desperate for his touch, for him to drown you in sensation. He obliged, his fingers delving deeper, slick with your arousal.

The roughness of his touch against your sensitive skin became a symphony of pleasure, as he slid in and out, his rhythm perfect, his fingers working in unison with the movements of his hips. You could feel yourself nearing the edge, your body coiling tighter and tighter with each thrust.

“Fuck, c’mon darlin, be a good girl, give it to me,” He groaned, as he sensed your impending release and increased the speed of his fingers, sending you over the edge in a wave of pure ecstasy. Your back arched off the bed, your nails digging into his skin as you cried out his name. He followed you over, spilling into you with a guttural moan.

You collapsed onto the bed, spent and breathless, but he wasn't done with you yet. He rolled you onto your hands and knees, positioning himself behind you. You felt him smirk against your back before he slammed into you again, filling you up completely.

His pace was rougher now, more primal as he claimed your body as his own. You met each thrust eagerly, reveling in the raw passion that flowed between you.

He reached around to caress your clit, adding another layer of stimulation to the already mind-blowing experience. Your moans and cries filled the room as he drove you both to new heights of pleasure.

As you were both on the verge of climax once again, he flipped you over onto your back and plunged into you one final time. With one hand gripping your thigh and the other tangled in your hair, he pounded into you with an intensity that left you breathless.

When he finally let go and spilled inside of you for a second time, it was like a dam had burst within both of them. You clung to each other as waves of pleasure washed over you both until eventually subsiding.

You lay there tangled together in a sweaty mess, your limbs intertwined as you both fought to catch your breath. The air was thick with the scent of passion, the sheets clinging to your bodies in a sensual embrace. As the haze lifted from your minds and your heart rates slowly returned to normal, you looked up at him and smiled, your eyes shining with a mix of contentment and wonder.

"That was incredible," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the delicate moment.

His lips curved into a satisfied grin, his gaze burning into you with a intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. "You're incredible," he replied, his voice husky with desire, the words caressing your skin like a lover's touch.

You both lay there for a while, basking in the afterglow of your intense lovemaking. The sheets were tangled around the two of you, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was the feeling of being intertwined with him, your bodies still connected in an intimate embrace.

A part of you couldn't help but feel a twinge of apprehension, a nagging voice in the back of your mind warning you that this was uncharted territory. You were jumping headfirst into the deep end, and the risk of drowning was ever-present. But as you gazed into his eyes, the warmth and affection you saw there quelled your fears, replacing them with a sense of exhilaration and anticipation.

"I can't believe this is happening," you murmured, your fingers tracing the contours of his face, as if to reassure yourself that this was real. "I never thought we'd end up here, but I'm so glad we did."

He chuckled, the deep rumble of his laughter sending a shiver of delight through you. "Darlin', you have no idea how long I've been waitin' for this," he confessed, his hand caressing your cheek with a tenderness that belied the passion that had just consumed them.

You felt a surge of emotion welling up inside you, a mix of joy, trepidation, and a deep, abiding love that threatened to overwhelm you. "I'm scared," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "But I'm also so excited to see where this takes us."

His expression softened, and he pulled you closer, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle, reassuring kiss. "I'm here, darlin'," he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. "We'll figure it out, together."

As you lost yourself in the warmth of his embrace, you knew that no matter the challenges, you would face them side by side. The risk of drowning may have been ever-present, but with him by your side, you were ready to dive in, to explore the depths of this newfound love and see where it would take you.

#joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fandom #jettsflora&faunachallenge #writing challenge #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller smut #joel miller fanfic #joel miller tlou #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller #ceo!joel #boss!joel #assistant!reader

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a-hazbin-reader · 3 months

Note

A reader who loves singing? Does Alator let her sing his radio show?

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Alastor being petty, Alastor eating people, Vox being bullied

Description: ☝️⬆️

Alastor loves having an wife who can sing, any talent of yours he celebrates but singing especially is his favorite

Alastor is the type of husband to brag to a room of strangers about how good his wife sings

Even the other overlords are SICK of hearing about you and your beautiful, heavenly, mesmerizing voice

Except maybe Zestial and Rosie, the two of them actually genuinely interested in hearing you sing

Alastor is absolutely embarrassing to take anywhere that there is a live band/music

Mocks any other singer on stage just to get a reaction out of people so he can get you up there instead

He loves your voice best 👌

"They're a fine singer, sure, I'm only saying that I've heard better~"

Not him throwing you on stage

Is your biggest fan, making sure everyone claps and cheers for you because he will eat them if they don't

You're going to be blushing the entire time on stage because he's going to be giving you the most sinful look while you sing

Even if he doesn't necessarily like the song you're singing, Alastor is content to just admire your vocal talent

He won't let anybody try to make deals or contracts with you over your voice, usually just giving people a terrifying grin as he pulls you close

Vox has asked you a few times to perform for his show, but Alastor is proud to say that his wife has better taste than that

He also exaggerates the story of how you turned him down, claiming you kicked Vox in the groin and shattered his screen

"Alastor! That's not how that happened-"

"No? Funny, that's how I remember it~"

And he usually does something funny to get back at Vox for even trying

In Alastor's opinion, there are only two ways to enjoy your voice

Either in person or on his radio show

Putting you on TV would only dull your natural sparkle and talent, take away how special it is to really listen to you

That's his opinion anyway

Will ask you to sing at the hotel instead, but really what he's asking is if you'll sing for him

Because if you perform at the hotel then he's not missing a single moment of it, each performance from you is a gift

Will have brief intermissions in his broadcast so that you can sing to all his listeners

Treats you as the Lilith figure for his show, believing that your singing does have some power to it but also just so he can rub his woman in Lucifer's face

"Seems as if her majesty wasn't the only one with a pretty voice~ Aren't we all so lucky to have Y/N~?"

Alastor, maybe don't piss off Lucifer by shit talking the mother of his child?

He'll play piano as long as you promise to sing, the two of you would have the BEST DUETS

If you sing him a love song, then he can't resist singing along with you and pulling you in for a dance

"You should serenade me more often, my dear~ I think I deserve such a treat from you every now and then~"

"You ate like six people today, I think you should think again."

Little nose boop for your husband

Not him biting your finger playfully as you go to pull it away

"You two are so fucking sweet it's making me sick, I'm outta here."

Sorry Angel

Sometimes he hums along with you if you're singing while you're working, content to harmonize with you

Lowkey gets jealous when other people sing with you but gets irritated if someone who can't sing tries to sing with you

He has gone so far as to threaten them for singing badly and ruining your song

"If you're going to open your mouth, it would do you well to mind the shit that comes out of it."

"Alastor!!"

If you ask him for it, Alastor will pull all the strings he can to get you a place just for you to sing

It'll be his shrine to your voice

No Mimzy, you can't borrow Y/N for your own business

Only people with refined tastes such as his own will be allowed in, Alastor makes sure it's the proper clientele

Oh and Husk will be the bartender

"You MOTHERFUCKER!"

Alastor likes taking your voice to it's limits, likes hearing all the different sounds you can make

And that includes in bed

Even if you sing a wrong note or mess up, he'll call it an artistic choice and praise you

He still cuts in on just about every song you sing because he can't help himself, music and Y/N? It's Alastor bait

Plus, the two of you get to show off together, compliment each other, and make everyone green with envy

Y'all are just too fucking cute

It's a dream come true for Alastor to have a wife who can sing

Oops! This became another Wife!Reader one...sorry... 🫡

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

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audreyscribes · 4 months

Text

Ω PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS:

🍇DIONYSUS; God of Wine making, fertility, theater, festivity, and insanity. 🎭

author's note: I had a sudden idea about writing some headcanons Camp Halfblood demigods being claimed and what it's like for each respective god and cabin, followed by a small blurb afterwards. Thank you for reading and please like and reblog! The order is not in order of the cabin numbers. [PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS MASTERLIST]

You get claimed in an untypical manner. You heard of demigods waiting for a sign of their godly parent claiming them, with a glowing symbol above their head. Instead, when you get introduced to the camp members, Mr. D appears carrying a can of diet coke and casually states “No need to put them in the Hermes’ cabin. They're one of mine's”

Cue the record scratch. This immediately brings a lot of confusion and gossip. Many eyes look between you and Mr. D who doesn't seem bothered at all. You saw Chiron sigh and place his hand to his face, giving your godly father a disappointed headshake. Then you hear Castor and Pollux yell that they have a new sibling that they didn't even know about?!

You get a lot of looks of sympathy and jealousy. You don't figure out why until a little bit later on. Chiron fills you in with a reassuring voice but also speaks with an exasperated tone to Dionysus

Although you guys can't make wine or touch anything alcohol related, you did inherit Dioynsus' wine making skills. This includes also being good at making infused drinks or mixing drinks that range from mixing soda flavours together to making your tea blend. Even if the flavours shouldn't work together or whatever the drink type you're making, you just can. You are your own personal barista.

Putting this first and out of the way, you're both in a blessed and awkward situation where you are able to see and interact with your godly parent. Mr. D tries to treat you like every other demigod in Camp Halfblood, and that makes it awkward when you don't know if you should call him “Dad” or “Mr. D”, but at the same time, you know you have it better then others.

It doesn't mean Mr. D doesn't keep an eye out. When you dedicate your offerings to the gods and look at him when you do it, you can just see Dionysus’ face soften and his eyes have a hint of affection.

Don't ask how you or your other half-siblings came to be if Mr. D was sentenced to Camp Halfblood. You won't get an answer from but at least you know you're not alone and the twins are glad to have a baby sibling. Get ready for the youngest sibling treatment.

Dionysus is the God of Theatre so you have a theatrical flare. Even if you're introverted, you're not exempt; this can be applied in how you do certain things or be rather convincing at times. If you're extroverted, well, you're automatically the Theatre kid.

This turns out to be rather useful in events like Capture the Flag in a state of mania. When the heat of the battle starts to get to you, you feel your godly parent's power begin to rise in you and you can use that theaters flair to rouse your teammate's spirits up. You can also get a bit maniac and effect your teammates and enemies alike and become rather terrifying.

You have a bit of a green thumb so you can find some solace with the Demeter kids. However, unlike the Demeter kids who can just make plants grow and flourish, your green thumb only really applies to plants you have an interest in like Dionysus with his grapes…or now strawberries. Regardless, you can keep a houseplant alive at least.

Aside from a few very selected people within Camp, you're one of the few people who has seen Mr.D's true form. Not his godly form or the Mr. D you've seen, but the form he usually shows in front of mortals. Then it becomes very obvious how your other parent became so enamoured. You thank him silently for taking up his current form because you’re not going to be ready to hear about Mr. D being a DILF.

“Welcome to Cabin 12!” greeted Castor and Pollux as they opened the door to the cabin. You looked inside and saw how lived in the cabin was. It was clear the twins didn't expect to have another sibling and judging by the absolute shock that your shared father was supposed to be stuck in Camp, they really didn't expect him to have another mortal child.

You also noticed on one of their nightstands there were stacks of Coke and Pepsi, each belonging to one of the beds. There were copious amounts of it, and you wonder if being a child of Dionysus was a prerequisite of having a drink as your go-to drink. Like wine fo Dionysus…though you heard he had to switch to Diet Coke due to his punishment.

“Yeah, sorry for the whole…mess,” said Castor as he looked sheepish. “Pollux and I weren't expecting anyone else to be here, especially since it's been so long since we've first arrived. And you know, our dad, being, well-”

Pollux cleared his throat, “What Castor means, despite everything, we're thrilled to have a baby sibling. We've always been together so we're not that alone, but every now and again, we kind of get envious of the other cabins and having other siblings.”

You smiled when the door is knocked and a new bunk bed is being brought in, Castor and Pollux grinned at you. “Come on, let's get your stuff and space ready, and let's go see our dad.”

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musickgeek · 3 months

Text

The Great Alastor Altruist

Could be read as either platonic or romantic

The plan was for Alastor to take care of Adam, but I didn't want to send him without back up. So now I stand beside the feared Radio Demon, ready to fight Heaven's lead soldier.

The shield withers away, and Adam stares down at us with amusement as he approaches the hotel sign. "Adam...First man, next to die." Alastor says with his usual grin. His collected stance contrasts my tense, readied one. I hold my spear and shield up defensively, waiting for him to strike. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Alastor and (Y/n)." He introduces with flourish. He's thriving on the power display, I'm not so much. "Pleasure to be meeting you, quite a pleasure. I'm about to end your fucking life." He declares, driving his staff into the ground. I step aside quickly as the green tendrils rise from the ground, showing off the Radio Demon's power. However, Adam doesn't seem impressed. "Nice voice. Don't you know jazz is for pussies?" He conjures his axe, and goes in for the attack, to which Alastor meets him with the tendrils. Adam swings at them, making them disappear. Once he's close, Alastor and I move together gracefully so that he is behind me, and Adam's blade merely meets the shield. "Ah, ah, ah," Alastor tuts.

"You really think you can take me on? A mortal soul is no match for me, edge lord." Adam smiles, like this is nothing to him. He continues to defend against our coordinated attacks, seeming at ease. "You're a mortal soul, too, douche nozzle." I finally speak. "You should know better then anyone what a soul can accomplish when they take charge of their own fate." Alastor's shadow dissolves into several little minions that attack Adam. One manages a surprise hit on him in between his wild swinging. "You think you're tough shit, huh?" He swings at nothing, as the minion is gone.

Alastor materializes next to him. "Tougher than you." He laughs. Adam dives for him, missing with each swing of the golden axe. "You lack discipline," he taunts, dodging, "control," he ducks behind my shield, "and worst?" He jumps into the air, getting larger and darker. His limbs and antlers grow in a mangled manner, and he's filled with green electricity. I'm frightened despite being on his side, never having seen such a terrifying side of him. "You're sloppy."

"And you're-fuck- fuck you! You red piece of- " Adam fails to get a sentence out as all the minions climb and attack him. "Shut up!" He shouts, throwing the last minion away. Alastor laughs, and grabs him with on of the tendrils, slamming him into the hotel sign. "Poetry." He taunts.

"I'm gonna wipe that shit eating grin off your face, cause radio is fucking dead!" Adam flies above, swiping at the air with his axe. It creates a golden arc of power that meets Alastor before I can defend him. "What just happened?" I'm horrified at the lack of radio static in his voice, he looks wildly panicked. He looks down and sees the broken staff. "Ffffuck."

Adam goes to swing his axe into Alastor's chest, and I'm too late. Alastor flies back, crying out in pain. He leans into the wall, bleeding, ears pinned back, but still smiling. Adam readies another blow, but I'm faster this time. "No!" I'm in just in time to block it with the shield. With a battle cry, I drive the spear into the arm wielding the axe. He dodges only enough to merely graze the arm. It's still enough to piss him off majorly. He growls in rage, and blindly attacks only for me to ram the shield into him. He falls to his back, and I stand over him with the point of my spear to his throat.

"You come into our home, attack our friends, and expect us to take it lying down? You're more pathetic then anyone here." I spit vehemently. I go to drive the point into him, but he manages to grab it from me, and throws it with enough force to take me with it. He flies above me, but I roll away quick enough for his axe to meet the floor. However, he just reaches over and claws my chest with his hand. I gasp for breath, wheezing with pain. The cuts are shallow, but disable me enough for him to wrap his hand around my throat. He slams my body into the ground then lifts me into the air. "I've had enough of you disgraceful vermin."

My vision is fading, the blood is pounding in my ears. I claw at the glowing hand around my neck. I can't die. He'll kill Alastor, he'll kill the everyone. Without warning, I drop to ground, making all my wounds sting. I gasp for breath. Why my vision clears again, I see why. Alastor attacked Adam. And Adam saw it coming. "No...no, no. Alastor no." I mutter. Alastor's plunged my blade through Adam's chest, but Adam's axe is in embedded in the Radio Demons side. They both seem surprised at the outcome. "Radio's not dead." Alastor insists. Adam falls over, dead, while Alastor falls to his knees. The sickening smile on his face doesn't hide the sheer pain in his eyes.

I run to him, dropping to my knees to match his height, grabbing him by the shoulders. "Alastor, no, no, no, no, no, no. We can fix this, okay, you're gonna be fine, we can..." My voice dies away, turning into small sobs. "Don't cry, my dear. You're never fully dressed without a smile." He says half heartedly. "Why, Alastor? We could of... I'm not.... You needed to protect all of them, not me." He laughs weakly. "But I did, didn't I? And I protected you in the process."

"I suppose that makes you the most powerful demon I know." I tell him softly. He laughs quietly. "The great Alastor Altruist died for his friends." He slumps into me, eyes closing shut, but still ever smiling. I don't care about the oozing blood, I pull him tight against me hoping it's somehow a comfort. The war falls deaf in my ears, I only hear his breath slowing, slowing, and stop. I scream in anguish, the sound drowned out by the heat of battle still surrounding me. I need to end this.

I stand slowly, and rip the axe from Alastor's flesh. I take it over to Adam's body. I look down in disgust and spit on him. With a final cry of rage, I lift the axe over my head and slam it down onto his neck to decapitate his body. I grab the head by his hair, and I walk to the side of the building, holding my prize for everyone to see. "Adam is dead!" I declare. The exorcists look on in horror, cries of shock and grief rising among their ranks. "Adam is dead! Retreat! All exorcists fall back!" Their commander orders. The angels go back from which they came, and my friends all look at me with triumph and awe. I can't match their enthusiasm, only feeling hollow and tired. How was I going to tell them what happened?

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navybrat817 · 4 months

Note

“If you want something, you have to use your words.” With Bucky Barnes 😍😍

Such a fun prompt, lovely! How about CEO!Bucky?

Use Your Words

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Bucky will give you what you need as long as you use your words. Word Count: Over 1.1k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, oral (m. receiving), possessive behavior, established relationship, pet name (princess), slight D/s vibes, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I don't know why this screamed CEO to me, but here we are. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You huffed a sigh as Bucky finally hung up the phone. He glanced at you with a small smile, the corner of his lips curling more when you narrowed your eyes. The love of your life was a busy man and you respected that. But if he took one more call, you’d throw his phone out the window. You didn’t care. He had more than enough money to buy a new one.

And you had been waiting for him on your knees, naked, for at least ten minutes.

“About time,” you muttered.

Your throat went dry as Bucky walked toward you. He stopped two feet away and from the angle reminded you just how much he was built like a brick house. The white dress shirt pulled taut over his wide chest, accentuated by his broad shoulders, and pants that hugged his massive thighs built for riding, the sight made you want to climb him and take his cock until he destroyed you. He ran a hand along his chiseled jaw and, from the mischievous look in his steel eyes, he drew attention to it on purpose.

You'd bite his chin later once you had the chance.

“Aww, princess,” he said in an almost mocking tone, his eyes sparkling again with laughter when you continued to glare. He loved riling you up. “If you want something, you have to use your words,” he told you, taking one step closer.

Like everyone else in Bucky’s life, he towered over you from his position. It would've terrified anyone else, but not you. No one else got to call themself Bucky’s princess and you would fight anyone who tried.

He was yours as much as you were his.

“I want you to put your cock in my mouth,” you said sweetly as you crawled closer to his feet, swaying your hips and watching his gaze fall to your breasts once you sat back on your knees again. “I want you to fuck my throat before you fuck my wet pussy.”

“Such a slut for me,” he said with a hint of affection he didn't dare show anyone else. He brushed a finger along your lips and your mouth fell open obediently. With a happy hum you sucked the digit into your mouth, happy that he put something there. “What makes you think you've earned my cock?”

The pout on your face didn't sway him as he took his finger out, but you caught the swift intake of breath when you ran his hands up his thighs. No one got to him the way you did. It was a heady feeling to know he gave you that kind of power. It was a gift you wouldn’t abuse.

But using it occasionally to your advantage wouldn't harm anyone.

“Because I've been good. You worked all day and I didn't bother you or tease you once. I didn’t even whine or complain when you took that call. I think that deserves a reward,” you answered, unbuckling his belt. You didn't move any further since he was still in charge. Or so he thought. “And don't you deserve a reward, too? Don't you deserve to use my holes?”

Reaching between your thighs, you watched his eyes darken when you gathered some of your wetness to show him. “That's my pussy you're touching,” he said.

“Mmm. So it is,” you smirked at the rustling of fabric and sound of him lowering his zipper. The sight of his hard cock springing free seconds later made your clit throb. You needed some relief, but he would reward you later for being good. “And your pussy is wet and ready whenever you're ready, Sir,” you promised, smearing your slickness along his cock from base to tip.

He taught you to appreciate the taste of yourself, but it was better when mixed with his.

And he rewarded you with a groan when you gave him a kittenish lick. “Show me first with your mouth how much you want me to fuck you,” he ordered.

You leaned forward to take him in just how he liked it. You started with the head, swirling your tongue gently around it with a moan. The drop of precum on your tongue had you greedy for more and it didn't take long for you to take in more of his cock, relaxing your throat so he could slide in. Being full of him was one of the best feelings in the world.

“Fuck, princess, that's it,” he rumbled as you slowly bobbed your head. Your head spun a little when he pushed himself further down your throat and groaned. You could take every inch.

The smile he gave you when you hollowed out your cheeks looked a little like love. The whine you let out when he hit the back of your throat said that you loved him, too. You loved him when he used you or when he treated you with such care. You loved that you belonged to each other.

He called you his princess, but you were truly his queen.

“And such a good girl for telling me what you need,” he grunted as he sped up his thrusts, your eyes burning with tears at his harsh movements. It wouldn’t be long until he came down your throat and your pussy clenched at the thought. You’d accept it all. “Keep sucking, princess. That’s it. Doing so well for me.”

He twitched on your tongue when you whined and moved faster, determined to make him feel good. When your hand moved up to cup his balls, it was all it took to tip him over the edge. With a growl, he spilled into your mouth. He gasped when you suddenly pulled off his cock and opened your mouth wider, showing him the load on your tongue.

You swore his cock twitched again when you shut your mouth to swallow it all down.

“Trying to kill me, princess,” he exhaled, tenderly holding your chin so you could look up at him. You smiled sweetly when his blue eyes locked with yours, proud of yourself when he continued to pant. Yeah, you got to him. No one else would ever compare. “Still need me to fuck my pussy?”

“Yes, Sir,” you rasped, your throat a bit sore in the best way. “Please, fuck me.”

He surprised you by joining you on your knees, keeping a hold of your chin to kiss you. He licked into your mouth, making you mewl from both the urgency and tenderness. “I’ll fuck you,” he breathed against your lips. “I'll always give you what you need.”

You knew he would. Bucky would always take care of you. All you had to do was use your words.

What do we think of CEO!Bucky? Yes? No? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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yamujiburo · 4 months

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Some of this might sound intentionally hostile in text and I apologize.

I'm saying this as an abuse survivor mind you - don't throw "abusive ships" under the bus so easily - at least, so long as they're not actually glamorizing the abuse. I lived that irl and I personally find someone overcoming it, slowly having enough of that bullshit and getting out over time, and the other person having to wipe their own butt for once after they've made the damn mess, very refreshing. Maybe that's not a ship in the traditional sense. It's no happily ever after bc it shouldn't be, but I find stories like mine shyed away from so often because even the portrayal gets considered a "canon ship". ... that's just how media works now, I guess? I very rarely See a fictional relationship not called a ship in literally any context now so that's the definition I'm running on.

I wish more people were willing to portray the hardships of finding acceptance outside of "whoever you can find will accept you" very much, and finding the better things after. I wish people weren't terrified out of portrayimg situations like mine.

Jessie.. is not a good person in canon. You expect me to believe she moved into to hanamusa seamlessly, without falling on her ass? I never see you talk about Jessie's abusive tendencies in canon. You never talk about the inherent meanness she needed to get over to get there. She's quite aml lot like my ex in canon, actually.

What do you mean you're going to just remove from the character that she is abusive to those around her. Jessie hits people. She takes her own junk out on others all the time. Do you even like the character then, are you actually invested in her growing, or are you just making an OC at this point?

Idk. Do you, boo. But you are posting about a character who, whether you like it or not, is canonically abusive. I just don't buy that dating Ash's mom alone fixed her. That isn't... How that works. It would be excellent if it did. Part of my love of hanamusa is that it signals Jessie's change - but she could have changed for anyone before now.

What makes Delia different? How is she specifically a turning point for Jessie? Because Jessie's flaws go well beyond just bossing people around.

I would love if my abuser had the same outcome as your Jessie. I adore your portayals of hanamusa, where she's still flawed but still strives to do better. That's all I ever wanted from my ex.

What the fuck got her there tho.

Anyways I've been watching a lot of Bojack Horseman lately -

I agree with you! I don't think abusive relationships (or any tough subject matter in general) should be shied away from in media. It can be powerful when executed well and written by folks who are equipped to tell those kinds of stories. I do think it's sad when people treat it as off limits. But the ask I got was definitely more about which ships I have where I actually like the relationship between the characters. I think the semantics of the word "ship" are kind of vague or rather, over time, got so specific to only mean "absolutely love together and want them as endgame" (for most people anyways). So that's usually what I take the word to mean when people ask me about it.

I can 100% appreciate how an abusive relationship is written and handled, but that doesn't mean I'm gonna ship an abuser with their victim (that falls into the glorifying you're talking about). Love Bojack Horseman! Big fan! I think the way they handled Bojack and Sarah Lynn was beautifully and tragically well written. But does that mean I ship Bojack and Sarah Lynn? Absolutely fucking not.

I've talked about Jessie's character plenty on this blog and the way she's handled in earlier seasons specifically. This is kind of a summary: If we look at it on surface level, yes we can say she was abusive. But I think it's important to acknowledge and take into account the medium, time period and culture. Slapstick and cartoon violence was HUGE in anime and animation in the 90s (and prior to that too). Characters were always cartoonishly slapping each other around with giant mallets, folding fans, etc. Looney Tunes style. These slapstick bits were always distinct from real abuse and hurt (for Pokémon, Jessiebelle comes to mind). Mean slapstick wasn't a character trait exclusive to Jessie either. We saw it in Misty, James, Meowth, characters of the day and pretty much any character who got mad. It was a visual shortcut to show anger.

This type of slapstick has since (thankfully) died out and it hasn't really been a part of the Pokémon franchise since the early 2000s. However, Jessie was a notably special case. One of my favorite fun facts about the Pokémon anime is that there was a point in the series where Megumi Hayashibara (Jessie/Musashi's seiyuu) told the writers that moving forward, she no longer wanted Jessie to be violent or to be shown hitting James or Meowth (source: her memoir "The Characters Taught Me Everything"). She thought it directly went against the vision Takeshi Shudo had for Jessie, James and Meowth, when he created them, which was that they are good natured villains. If you watch from DP and on, Jessie never lays a hand on either of them. I think it was a such a good move on Pokémon's part to change her character like that and I'm forever grateful that Hayashibara said something! Whenever I write Jessie now, I always keep that in mind. She's mean, shouty and stupid but would never genuinely hurt those she cares about.

From then, her character becomes much more bearable. She's still bossy, mean and vain (typical cartoon villainess attributes) but I'd hesitate to say abusive. She'll still yell at James and Meowth, they all yell at each other, but in more of a sibling way (imo) rather than a "i'm actively trying to hurt your feelings way". The show makes a point especially in later seasons to show that Jessie, James and Meowth are not beyond being redeemed. From conception the whole POINT of the Team Rocket trio was that they are redeemable but their persistence and obsession keeps getting in the way of them seeing that there's a better life for them out there.

I won't deny that Jessie was unsavory in earlier seasons, but when I write her, I choose to write the version that Takeshi Shudo and Megumi Hayashibara had envisioned from the get go. She's still incredibly flawed and makes plenty missteps but wants to be better as you stated! My favorite part about Jessie is that she's a piece of shit LOL and I enjoy writing the changes she goes through to be better (but then still showing her default so some of her evil tendencies). In this AU, Delia doesn't fix Jessie. Jessie fixes Jessie because she is with someone makes her want to be a better person. She's already in the middle of turning over a new leaf before even meeting Delia, after leaving Team Rocket. Writing Jessie as legitimately abusive I think could work, but that's not my story to tell and if someone who were more equipped to tell that story did, I'd be very interested to take a listen!

I hope this doesn't come off as trying to deny or invalidate your experience. If you see that in Jessie, I hear you! This is just how I've interpreted her character over the years, having watched every episode of Pokémon and reading Japanese interviews from the cast and crew. She's such a compelling character and I love how messy she is

#ask yam #long post #tw abuse

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dropletpetals · 1 year

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SAGA AU: Their Grace wishes to adopt the Wanderer. What would his reaction be? (I ask because I want to adopt this boy and be his new mama 🥺)

Wanted Son

(feat. Wanderer)

❥⁠Synopsis: After he was created, he was abandoned by his mother. Would You too abandon him?

❥⁠Content Warnings: SAGAU, cult au, religious themes, abandonment issues, mommy issues, basically just all of Wanderer's issues, yandere behavior.

❥⁠Author's Notes: Wow this is like my 3rd Wanderer fic in a row shhsgs

Disbelief.

Did...

Did he hear that right?

He asked for You to repeat what You just said, trembling.

When he heard once again what You just said, he looked at You, confused and lost. "Why? Why would you...?"

Why would You want him for all that he's done? Why would You want him when he had hurt so many people, including Your first vessel?

Why would You want him as Your son when he wasn't even enough for his original mother? Why would You want him when his own mother threw him away?

Why?

Just...

Why?

But even as disbelief and hesitance covered his entire being...

"Yes. I accept."

He was not a saint, and he may be repenting but he is still a selfish man and all he ever wanted before was his mother's affection.

But here You were, easily offering the parental affection that he had once craved and had buried within himself.

No matter if You're doing this because You're fond of him or for Your own gain, he would still accept. There never was any doubt of him refusing your offer.

After all, You had already given him a name. That was more than he can say of Beelzebub.

After that day You had gained a shadow. Your son always a half-step behind You wherever you go.

He would say that he was protecting You because who else fit to be Your guard but Your own son? But it's also for his own selfish reasons.

He wants to be close to You at all times. He selfishly clings to You when You two are alone, craving and seeking the attention You so easily give him and calling You by whatever You wished him to.

Whether or not You are physically affectionate, his hands would always seek Yours in private, assuring himself that You're still there, that You haven't abandoned him.

In moments of vulnerability, he was like a newborn babe who always calls for his mother, dependent and terrified of being alone.

Sometimes he would think of his first mother and how ironic it was that he was once the son of an Archon, but now he is the son of the Creator, a being more powerful than his first mother.

The petty part of his mind was gleeful while another part of him slightly regrets erasing himself in Irminsoul, if only to shove this on Beelzebub's face.

But he waved it off his mind and focused on the present. He would be a dutiful son if that's what You desire of him. He would help with Your duties if that's what You wish.

He would do the dirty work for You, no need for You to take action because Your son is here. He would strike down those that scorn You, those that earn Your ire, those that do not worship You as they should. He would be the loving son, the helpful and dutiful son as long as You wish.

Because all he had ever wished for was to be wanted, and now he is, so please don't let him be alone again.

❥⁠End Notes: I guess we're still not over Wanderer huh?

❥⁠Q: Since we're in the topic of adoption, who do you want to adopt in Genshin? Cause I would adopt Razor in a heartbeat.

#ash.♥#genshin sagau #sagau #sagau cult au #genshin impact sagau #sagau wanderer

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mwapollo · 6 months

Text

pre-hermitcraft grian (the reason he's a watcher)

WARNING: TW BULLYING MENTIONS! I haven't watched the entire YHS (how is one even capable of doing that) and I'm only in the process of wathcing the EVO series. this is a pure fanon-ish speculation about c!Grian based on some visible facts in these series/other videos. I don't mean to offence fans of other creators mentioned here! also, Grian is a grown man and (I'm sure) he is able to manage his social life as he wants. this is just a contribution to the lore that I wholeheartedly love.

tumblr is against me giving you a lot of videos with lore, so every screenshot has a link with a timecode for the essential moment.

also, grumbo ahead.

now, let me begin by saying:

I'm terrified of Yandere High School. I feel too bad for Grian.

(if you can't reach the link in the picture, it's here)

he had been a target for awful and hurtful jokes from his first YHS entry. you can sense the same dynamic in pretty much every interaction of Sam, Taurtis and Grian: 1. Sam is always in the position of the most attractive, the most the powerful, the most popular. Whoever and whatever he wants -- girls or attention -- he'll get everything, just because he's the Sam Gladiator, the protagonist, the hero. No one is allowed to steal his spotlight even for a slight second. He'll do anything to keep his throne. 2. Taurtis is pretty much Sam's silent side-kick. He's always around; as a side-kick, he always gets the girls and whatever, but only if Sam is indifferent. While Sam is leading the action, Taurtis is needed to support whatever joke/discussion is going on.

3. Grian is… a friend -- formally, but a whipping boy -- in fact. He is accepted into this trio, but never gets to be in the role of an 'equal'. I've watched several 20-30min long episodes, and there is no kind or even neutral attitude to Grian. Your appearance sucks, your jokes are stupid, you are ridiculous, you do everything wrong, you're not allowed to be with these girls because they're mine, you're not allowed to do this and that becuase only I am.

and this is. every. single. freaking. episode. of. YHS. I've. seen.

these are not silly hermitcraft jokes, this is pure shit.

I have a few ideas to speak about at this point.

-- this is where it all started. the social experience Grian got from YHS affected many situations in the future, I'll write about this below. -- Taurtis became a close friend for (c!)Grian not nesessary because he was a good friend. but he wasn't bullying him direclty. he was only ment to watch. so they got close -- because Taurtis was somewhat respective of his boundaries. and, between Sam and Taurtis, the obvious 'good' was the latter.

-- the Grian's lesson from this was: be powerful. do not let them push you down. be in charge. and -- he invented his own method for it.

the EVO series was the desired spotlight for Grian and his opportunity to be The Chosen One.

(the link for video is here)

in the first episodes, Grian mentioned several things:

as he mentioned in the e1 of EVO and e1s6 of HC, the EVO was his comfort zone since the first versions of Minecraft were truly his element (unlike for Netty or Jimmy Solidarity, who Grian said would die a lot (LMAO)).

he was actively looking for the weakest people on the server. he made a trap near the spawn (what made it unintentionally unescabaple) first -- because he wanted to see who wouldn't be able to resist the temptation.

--but it was not a YHS case from the very beginning. Grian let viewers know that rudeness and bullying others is unacceptable, and the participants are all good friends that are aware of pranks being silly jokes.

so he wanted to be in charge, from my point of view it was traumatic for him not to be -- and then he always tried to be sure he won't harm anyone.

but at this point, as watchers noticed him, becoming one was inevitable.

he was the perfect one for being a watcher. he analyzes people around him, he uses traps and tricks to find their vulnerabilities, and then he uses their vulnerablilities to his emotional needs. gently, in a human-like way; but Sam forged him the way watchers needed, and they happily accepted the broken being of Grian.

and you know who put Grian down on earth, made him stay?

Mumbo.

(once again, the link is here)

the EVO series started after the first collab of Mumbo and Grian and not long before the second (build swap). the behaviour I described in my beloved post about the first collab, the irritation and passive agression from Grian could also be the effect from YHS. Grian expects the worst from the unknown: he tries to build his social comfort zone boundaries and never cross them when it's unnecessary. he's anxious, he's learned his lesson -- do not trust, do not be weak, that's why he had to react so harshly, and yet-- mumbo managed to soften him. he treated him like not a single friend did before: he was sparkling with happiness and joy from every build Grian had, from every time they met. Mumbo adored him from the first sight of Grian's creations, and the first thing Mumbo said after seeing Grian's re-build was that he wants Grian's builds on HC. and -- as I can assume -- it was grumbo's friendship that made Grian change his decision and join Hermitcraft after all. as he mentioned in s6e1, he recieved plenty of invitations on the server but declined every time before s6. but then, he finally got a friend.

the best one.

after Grian joined, he couldn't help himself anymore, he couldn't hold back -- he needed being around Mumbo. pranks transformed from being a weapon to being the reason to... visit Mumbo's base and be around a little bit longer. in s6, after Mumbo's irl trip to Italy (sorry for breaking the 4th wall), Grian sincerely told him that he missed him very much and his favorite activity was just being around.

Grian became a watcher at the end of EVO, ~ 11 of September, 2018. at this time, he had already joined HC. so... it can be said that Mumbo saved him from turning into a cruel creature, from falling into the void of his past.

Mumbo saved him. And Grian stayed.

and the final note, to break you all completely.

do you know when did the first iteration of the watchers' deathloop, 3rd life, happened?

after Mumbo had lost the election for mayor, turned to Scar's side, and they stopped keeping in touch.

oh boy. I have much more about the further lore.

#grian #hermitcraft #evo smp #yandere high school #watcher grian #traffic life smp #mumbo jumbo #grumbo #waffle duo #mwapollo

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