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jeniyona-ame · 2 years

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LOLITA 楽しくない KAZUHA X FEM!READER :: NO FUN

a recreation of “you dont let me have any fun” scene in lolita 1962. although i made sure to keep some parts different. warning /!\ age gap. pedophilia, stepdad, deception, unhealthy relationship, mental illness, lolita, sexualizing daughter with father

You sat comfortably on the pink velvet coach, sunbathing beneath the evening. Reading your favourite magazine with all the new celebrity gossip and clothing you’ve seen everyone wear nowadays, relaxing in the cool breeze flowing right through the open window. Your father was right beside you and reading his newspaper, his tie a little loosened, his white cream hair disheveled around his shoulders. The both of you were in silence like it ever was in the afternoon.

Except.

The phone rung. Kazuha, your stepfather reached towards the telephone with a sigh and gave you a smile when he noticed you glanced at him. He talked with the thing for a short while, his brows sinking above his eyes as he gave repeated apologies at the telephone. But he also seemed twisted in confusion as he would always cock his head at the side. He put his newspaper and the telephone down with a final goodbye.

He takes a deep breath and you look back to your magazine with slight tremor. “[Name],” he calls you, and you tighten your lips and hummed. “Darling, you know that fee I gave you for your piano teacher?”

You winced at the memory. You remembered that you spend the money with your friends in the mall, and then spend the spare change in an ice cream shop. And you also remembered how yummy the milkshake tasted melting sweetly on your tongue.

“That’s right. I gave it to you that day, remember?” you tell him, the lie was bitter on your tongue since you had never lied to your father before. Not at least, you’ve been lying to your father awfully frequent recently. His eyes narrow. “No, no,” he said, recalling back. “You never gave me anything that day. Where is the money?” he sounded a little bit demanding that you look away from him with your cheeks burning.

“Come to think of it, the other day I was driving across town and I spotted you in one of the ice cream shops, with a... boy?” his tone dropped lowly at that, you can see where he is starting to get angry. “Did you or did you not, spend the money for yourself? I mean that money I gave you.”

You swallowed the swell in your throat. “Yes,” you whimpered fearfully. “Mhm?” he asks you. “Y-yes.” You answer a bit loudly this time. When you glance at him again, you cannot see a trace of fury on his calm face. He took a deep breath. “If you wanted money, I could have simply given it to you.”

“You’re not mad I stole the cash for the piano?” you whispered, eyebrows raised.

“That doesn’t mean you aren’t wrong, but no. I’m not mad. I can give your teacher the fee myself because I can’t trust you with that anymore.”

You sighed in relief and apologized. Although Kazuha still didn’t seemed satisfied enough. You questioned for a moment, but there isn’t anything else you can recall to confess to him since that was the only thing that made your heart heavy. He deserved to know the truth and you felt so awful lying to him.

“Father? Something on your mind?”

He looked at you, fire in his eyes that you’ve never quite seen before. “So what about that boy? Were you on a date or something?”

It made you wonder what kind of anger was in his gaze. Was it shock? Because he was angry and surprised that he never knew you would ever talk to any boy? Can it be because he was still lying about how he wasn’t mad about the money but in the back of his mind, he still is.

Or, jealousy?

It couldn’t be like that right? He was upset that you should’ve joined him for supper. That you weren’t with him when you should be.

“Date? No. It wasn’t a date. Those were the boys in my school, father. They’re no one special,” a smile slits your lips and you tilt your head at him. And then you pout when that glare in his red eyes doesn’t go away.

“But you two seem quite awfully close,” he said lowly. You hummed, rising from the chair to sit on his lap. He doesn’t wrap his arms around you like usual just yet. Instead, he stares deep into your eyes, awaiting for the truth to pass your lying green lips.

“Don’t be silly,” you whispered, your hot breath fanning against his face, but he doesn’t fluster, or move. “It was a date, wasn’t it.” He snaps and it didn’t sound like a question. “No, it was not.” You answered firmly, pursing your lips.

Kazuha sighs and then he looks at you like you’re his most hated person in the world. “How could you think I’m stupid [Name]? I’ll find out who that boy is sooner or later myself. Or maybe I won’t if you’ll tell me. Who is he? Your boyfriend?” he growled. You kiss the side of his mouth and that seemed to ease him a little bit.

“You think I’m crazy?” you chuckled. “I’d rather be with you.”

At that, he smiled, amused. “Then you cannot see anyone else but me,” he declared. Triumph crosses his face and you stand from his lap, huffing with tightened fist. “You can’t say you’re the only person I can talk to. Don’t be like that now.”

You put your hands on your hips and growled. “Just because I said I’d rather be with you does not mean you’re the only one I’ll greet everyday. Surely you’re joking.”

He raises his brows and puts one leg over his knee. He knows you’re angry. He knows you couldn’t live like that. And he knows you would rather die. He knows you all too well, doesn’t he?

“I’m not.” Kazuha replied. “He might do nasty things to you.”

“You’re one to talk,” you laughed.

Kazuha pinked and looked away.

“I won’t listen to you. You can’t let me have any fun around here.”

And now you two are perfectly matched in temper. He slightly raises his voice at you, bile seeping into his throat that he snaps from his chair. “That’s not true,” he tries to keep calm, because he understands that a child like you will be easily frightened if he lost his composure. Yet how could you ever see what kind of devotion he has for you if he doesn’t yell once in awhile?

“I bring you everywhere, don’t I? Your favorite concerts, movies, museums, theater, parks - don’t I drive you to other cities when you ask me? I even take you to the restaurants you adore so much. And who does the cooking? The cleaning? Who tidies your room? Who does the laundry around here? I do. You don’t even have to lift one finger. Don’t we have lots of fun? You and I?”

The silence was killing him

It was never like this. The way you look at him made him flush. Do you think he was pathetic now? He waited for you to answer. In fact, he was silently pleading for it. But all he could see was himself inside your eyes. A freak.

Because of you, he was so disgusting. So in love. And such a fool. As if you could ever love him. At least, Kazuha likes to pretend. But he sees that now. That it will never be that way. He frowns, gives a hopeless sigh, and slowly stands from his chair.

“Come here,” you whispered, lips curled. His head lifts towards you, his mouth slightly parted in confusion. He reaches towards your figure, and your wrap your arms around him. “Still love me?”

Those deep red eyes soften in tenderness and he squeezes your waist lovingly. “Of course I do,” he replied with a faint sigh.

“Father,’‘ you called, trying to accumulate as much affection in your tone as you can. “You know I meant that I could never love anyone as much as you. Does it matter if I spend my time with them when they could do nothing to please me? At least, not like you? You’ll always have the most of my heart. There’s nothing to worry about.’‘

Kazuha couldn’t look at you in the eyes. All he could do was nod. How pathetic he is. How greedy he is. Taking you for himself because you’re all he has. That’s why he tried to give you all the fun in the world, because he wanted to show you that there couldn’t be any happiness you could have if not with him. But perhaps he’s gone a little overboard.

He felt a warm, gentle hand press against his cheeks and his stomach churls with butterflies. “Kazuha,” you murmur, voice obscenely delicate. Crimson pools meet your eyes, and your lips twisted into a smile. “Can you kiss me?’’

And he does, willingly so. His body floods with sweetness as his lips touches yours, pressing your body closer, he doesn’t want to part. He belongs with you. And he will never forget how endearing you are to him. It’s not fair. You’re just too lovely. And he thinks he might just fall apart.

You pull away breathless and then nuzzle into the crook of his neck, inhaling the pleasant fragrance that follows him. Your arms ring tighter around his neck and he smiles at your heart-warming embrace. “I love you.”

#kazuha #kazuha kaedehara #kazuha x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #lolita #x reader #kazuha kaedehara x reader #genshin impact kazuha #genshin impact kazuha x reader #kazuha x you #kazuha x y/n #you never let me have any fun #lolita 1962

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snailfen · 1 year

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oi! 9 and 14 for the salty asks?

-0

9. Most disliked character(s)? Why?

hmmm... ok i didnt think this was gonna be a hard one! then again, everytime i get a question like this i have a hard time coming up with an answer.

Oleana and Rose are up there for their writing 100%. I don't like how Oleana is just a crazy secretary in the games. im so so SO happy about her Twilight Wings Episode; but i really wish that we saw this in-game (then again i havent. seen the dlcs AT ALL so if she does show up again... i wouldnt know lol). Rose is just.... a mess. Like, I see people debate whether he's good, or bad, or morally grey, but thats the thing- I feel like his character is all OVER the place and he was just. Done so badly. I'm ok with these two otherwise but when it comes to their character writing its just. help me

Professor Bellis(?) From Pokemas. Why do you use so many languages in your dialogue PLEASE

Paulo, at least his character arc rn. Please DeNA just hurry up and make him evil already or whatever its taking forever. also give my girl Tina some time to shine on her own.... i love Paulo but DeNA drawing this out longer than it needs to be.

Can't think of any other characters I'd say I actually dont like for once.

14. Unpopular opinion about your fandom?

i need every single fandom member on twitter to move to tumblr STAT im not logging back on there for pkmn content /hj /lh

People can complain about how no one hates pokemon more than pokemon fans, or how pokemon fans are never satisfied, but thats because these games are just... disappointing coming from GameFreak.

Like, ok, I wouldnt call Pokemon Legends: Arceus terrible. I thought it was great! It was really fun and I played it for MONTHS. But theres issues that reflect how badly the time constraints are on the games quality: Its storyline and graphics aren't the best, they arent complete shit but they are pretty disappointing coming from a 90 billion dollar game development company.

I'm not saying that means they should be perfect at making games, I'm saying that means they should have the time and money to create something at least enjoyable in every aspect. Another example with SwSh: Good graphics, great character design and beautiful environment design for the towns, but oh my god did the plot of the game suffer.

PLA also came out with no Pokemon HOME compatibility as well as BDSP, which is also disappointing: you think that these games would have compatibility soon after release but that didnt come out until May 18th, approx. 4 months after PL:A came out. IIRC, Sun and Moon got Bank compatibility 2 months after their release. These games are coming out missing core features and adding them so much later! It's disappointing.

With ScVi coming out tomorrow (despite being leaked COMPLETELY) I can't say my hopes are too high about it, and its likely I'll have to wait until Christmas for it to see the whole thing for myself. ScVi apparently began development in 2019, but unless it can reflect that it's been given the time it needed, they have GOT to stop cranking these games out every year.

#ask games #asks #not putting these in the tags cus i dont feel like it #neg #not really but someones gonna want that

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rubbertig · 2 years

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dungeon meshi new chapter thoughts

OOF !!!!!!!!!!! OH NO!!

OK BUT LIKE !!! !!!! of course laios was gonna fail!!!!!!! i mean!! the outcome was given to us!! lion influenced marcille in this very chapter implied this beforehand. the lion was counting on this.

laios has always been the most susceptible to the winged lion's manipulation!! like he wasnt even the dungeon master and it was only RECENTLY that he realized "oh wait the lion is bad" lmao!! and not only that but laios has also always been the worst one to become the dm!! the winged lion has always wanted laios in particular, the implication being laios would be the one that would give it exactly what it wants.

when the others were like "wahhh laios would be the worst to become the dm! he loves monsters too much!! it would be doom!!" they were right!!! sure they were only really thinking on a surface level not realizing how truly deep it went but it was true. it had always been true

because dang!!! this has been a long time coming with laios!! the pieces have always been there!!! its like kinda satisfying to see it finally laid out the most bluntly its ever been????

u read and joke "haha laios wants to be a monster so bad it makes him look stupid" but like. yeah. he does. he really does.

this whole manga we been repeatably been given the answer to the question "why does laios care so much about monsters?"

because he prefers them over people. they are his ideal.

and of course he does. he has a strained relationship w humanity. we have been shown that up until the events in the comic laios's life has sucked! he had a miserable childhood in a cold household. then he struggled harshly when he left it. throughout his whole life he felt alienated.

laios is a deeply fucked up guy!! he isnt some selfless protag hero!! hes actually pretty self motivated!! its been his pitfall often!! if not always often intentionally. like hes not some nefarious cold person or something. but like laios has letting his desires lead him the whole fucking manga!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

"i dont have any real dream" FOOL !!

at least he did have some self awareness and planned some contingency but WELP

HOO LETS SEE HOW THE GANG GETS OUT OF THIS COS I GOT NO CLUE WHATS GONNA HAPPEN LOL

#tig rambles #oof this is bIG LOT OF RAMBLING #meshi bloggin

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lavenderwhore444 · 3 years

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So I’m obsessed with the idea of cow shigaraki don’t ask me why lmaoo anyways shigaraki was always an asshole to everyone ( everyone tries to take him seriously but his cute little ears makes it hard) shigaraki hasn’t gotten out of his room for days and everyone kind of got worried but forced the reader to check it since shigaraki was a littel bit decent to them ( everyone knows shigaraki has a crush on the reader but of course the reader is lowkey dumb to notice) to there surprise the reader finds shigaraki humping his pillow while sniffing the readers sweater or panties that he “ borrowed” and moaning readers name, it turns out our little cow shiggy here has his heat not to mention little drops of milk are coming out of his pink nipples, shigaraki notices the reader and just starts crying and whining and begging the reader ti help him out because he’s in so much pain and can’t get off ( the reader does have a heart and helps him out but it’s not gonna be that easy since the reader does want to tease him a bit but soon gives him what he wants) a fluff ending because why not

This lives rent free honestly loll anyways add any kinks u want sweetheart

COMMISSIONS

BRO I JUST REALIZED WE REACHED OVER 100 FOLLOWERS I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH

PLEASE SOMEONE MAKE FAN ART FOR THIS

If you want to use interactive fics, it's easy and makes reading fics SO much better. First, you download the Google Chrome extension. You'll see it in the top right corner of your screen. Next, you enter your name in the first box. If you want to change something other than y/n, please click on the text that says “want to change something other than y/n?” here, you can change any word you want to a different word. When I talk about your quirk I will use y/q

InteractiveFics

Master List

Warnings: Hand job, blow job, thigh fucking, normal fucking, mommy kink, this time Shiggy is making milk for y/n, pillow humping, heat, boobies lol, bad words, he has cow ears and tail because that’s fucking adorable, he cums like... a lot.

youtube

I know what everyone is thinking, and I pinky promise that Shigaraki does not moo in this, so don't worry. I did read a fic like this and everyone turned it into like a “cursed fanfic” because the mooing weirded them out, but the only thing that really bothered me is that it was non-con (non-consensual [rape]). I will never ever ever EVER EVER EVER write non-con. Never.

Ok, I am on a fucking roll with the mommy kink, so here we go 😌

Anon your ideas make me write for literal hours cause I get so excited and I write for “20 minutes” that turns into four hours that turns into getting half of your requests done in less than a week. If anyone reading this can draw, I demand art of cow Shigaraki. This reminds me of Shigamothie (my guilty pleasure)

However, the way he looks in my head isn't drawn out, and um, I can’t draw 😃

I FOUND SOME UHIUHINIJMIOANIONSJIND

“Y/n, it's been days. Go check on him, ” Dabi said.

“Why don't you go do it?” you asked.

“Because he’ll fucking dust me, ” he responded.

“And? He would dust me too, ” you said.

“Y/n, first of all, that's impossible because of your quirk, ” Dabi said, “and second, everyone knows Shiggy has a crush on you. Well, everyone but you,”

“He does not, ” you scoffed.

“I'll bet everyone dinner for the next three nights that he does. But you have to go up there and ask him, ” Spinner said.

“Fuck, ” you muttered, “fine! Fine, I'll go, ”

You trudged up the stairs, sighing when you got to his room.

You knocked but there was no response.

“Risking my job so those assholes can eat, ” you muttered.

To your dismay the door was unlocked and you walked in.

“Hey, this is a dumb question, but-” you cut off, “Shigaraki are-are you ok?”

He was curled up on the bed in fetal position, naked with a pillow between his legs, humping it desperately. He didn't seem to notice you yet.

‘Is that my sweater?’ you thought.

You put a hand oh his shoulder, “Shigaraki? Are you ok?” you asked again.

He shook his head, moaning, “need you y/n, ” he gasped, “need you, please. It hurts. It hurts so bad please y/n, ”

You bit your lip, scratching behind his ears as he moaned desperately.

“I can't. I-I can't get myself off, ” he sobbed, “it doesn't w-work. I need you y/n I need to be inside of you I-”

He let out a strangled yelp as white liquid shot out of both his cock and his erect pink nipples. You knew he had cow ears and a tail, but you never thought he’d actually make milk. You knelt by the bed and sucked experimentally, enjoying the taste of his warm milk.

“Mmm, ” you hummed, drinking more.

“Y-y/n don't. It feels too good when you do that I can't-” he cried, spilling another load onto the poor pillow.

You giggled, “i didn't know you went into heat. It's kinda cute, ” you said, brushing sweaty matted hair out of his face.

He hid his face in your sweater again, just for you to pull him to face you once more.

“Mommy, ” he whispered, “I need you. Please, mommy, ”

You kissed his forehead, “mommy, huh? Y’know you're really not that scary, Shiggy. The ears and tail don't help either, ”

He whined, blushing, “please mommy?”

He looked up at you with puppy dog eyes that you couldn't resist.

You sighed, “fine. But only if you answer my question, ”

He nodded, “anything, mommy. I’ll do anything, ”

You took a deep breath before asking, “do you have a crush on me? ”

“Wh-what? ” he stuttered before blowing another load with a groan.

“I asked you if you have a crush on me,” you repeated.

He couldn't hide it from you. He couldn't even hide it from himself.

“Yes, ” he groaned, “yes, I have a fucking crush on you. Please fuck me y/n, ”

“Say please again, baby. I love it when you beg,” you said, kissing him.

He froze as you pressed your lips to his. Shigaraki looked up at you with wide eyes. That was his first kiss, and he got to share it with you.

“Please, ” he whispered, “please fuck me y/n, ”

You ran your hand up and down the back of his thigh, stopping to squeeze his butt gently. You took his nipple in your mouth again, drinking more of his milk before kissing him again. This time he returned your affection. You took away the pillow, and he started whining, practically crying at the lack of stimulation. He was already a mess. There was really no need for teasing, but you couldn't help yourself. You tapped the tip of his cock with your pointer finger, watching as he moaned and tried to buck into it.

“So sensitive, ” you said, pulling your hand away, “I think we’re gonna have some fun Shiggy, ”

He nodded, “mommy, please, please touch me, ”

You couldn't deny him any longer. He was practically crying. He’d been so touch-starved for years it wasn't just about how badly he needed to cum it was about how badly he needed not only to be touched but to touch someone else. He hadn't given or received a hug since he was a kid, and even now, he couldn't if he wanted to. Until you joined.

Your first quirk was impressive, but the fact that you had a secondary quirk to cancel out his had to be fate. He decided that very day that you were his soulmate. You were the one he could do all that cheesy romance stuff he’d seen during movie nights when it was Toga’s turn. You were his from the moment he saw you.

“I’ll touch you baby boy, don't worry, ” you said, taking off your shirt.

He stared at your chest as you unclipped your bra. He reached for your boob, seemingly to play with it in his hands but instead pulled you towards his mouth. He sucked harshly, groping your other tit. You groaned as he pinched and twisted your left nipple and sucked on your right one. You weren't even on the bed yet, still knelt beside it. You pushed him away and climbed on top of him, laying him flat on his back.

“You're so rough with mommy, sweetie. You have absolutely no power in this position, no matter how much you'd like to deny it. Now I wonder, ” you said, reaching between his legs, “does this little cow moo?”

You jerked his cock harshly, causing Shigaraki to let out a loud moan.

You whispered in his ear, “It looks like the answer is yes, ”

You kissed his cute little ear, still getting him off with your hands. He came again, painting your hand with cum, but he still wasn't satisfied. You took his nipple in your mouth once again, sucking warm milk from him. He was shuddering and thrashing around on the bed once again, falling apart from the lack of stimulation to his dick.

“Mommy, need inside. Please mommy please, ” he begged.

“Be patient, Shigaraki, ” you said, caressing his cheek, “I'm taking you every way I know how, ”

You crawled down the bed, letting your left hand trail down his body, pinching and twisting his nipple again. You smeared the milk that oozed out over it. When you finally settled between his legs, you took your time admiring and practically worshipping his thighs. You kneaded the flesh in your hands, kissing, licking, and biting them, thrilled you were finally able to get your hands on them. You’d always had a thing for his thighs, not sure why.

When you finally started moving upwards he begged you shamelessly.

“Please put your mouth on my cock, mommy, ” he whined, “please, I'll be good. I’ll be a good boy for you mommy, ”

You bit and kissed his inner thighs more, traveling as high as you could while still ignoring his oozing cock. You had to dig your nails into his thighs to keep Shigaraki from closing them. You finally brushed your lips against his balls, and Shigaraki almost came right then and there. You licked long stripes up his dick, pausing to let your tongue tickle the head. He was holding back now, trying to last so he could feel your mouth for just a little longer. You sucked on the head of his cock, impressed by his willpower and even more excited to break him down.

You took him into your mouth and hollowed your cheek, not caring about the tears streaming down your face or how you gagged whenever you moved your mouth. He pulled you up until your breathing steadied.

“Dont hurt yourself, mommy, ” he said.

He pet your hair as you were still only halfway down his cock. He was so sweet to you, such a good boy. You rolled his balls in one hand, wrapping the other around what he wouldn't allow your mouth to cover, and sucked harshly on what you could. He was starting to break down, finally letting go in your mouth. He came with another strangled cry. If you were honest, his cum tasted awful thanks to his poor diet, but luckily, you knew exactly how to get rid of the taste.

“As much as I love milking your cock, baby, I think there's something else that needs milking too, ” you said.

You brought your head to his chest once again gulping down milk.

You pulled away “you need to est better sweetie. I’ll cook for you from now on, ”

He looked like he was about to object, so you captured his lips in a sweet kiss, letting him know how happy you were that he was here with you and how excited you were to take care of him. You had used your mouth and hands which only left one option, your cunt. Or so he thought.

“Kneel for me by the end of the bed, Shigaraki, ” you said.

He did as he was told, “you can call me Tomura, ” he said.

“Such a pretty name, ” you praised, “now put your cock between my thighs,”

You had lifted your legs as best you could, counting on him to support you the rest of the way.

“What?” he asked, confused.

“I want you to fuck my thighs, ” you explained, “and if you try to slip inside of me, I'm not fucking you properly until tomorrow and you can suffer for the rest of today, ”

He frowned. That was no fair, but he wasn't going to disobey you. He had promised to be a good boy. So he took off your pants and lined himself up with your thighs, moaning as he slid in between them.

“ go ahead, baby boy, make yourself feel good, Tomura” you said.

He nodded, beginning to thrust into your thighs. He had your legs draped over his shoulders and was dangerously close to your aching cunt. He was whimpering the entire time, desperate to finish so he could get inside of you. Feel how warm and wet you were. Letting you squeeze him and milk his cock, how he’d play with your tits as you moaned beneath him. That's all it took for the head of his dick to peek out from between your thighs and paint you with his cum.

“Baby, you did such a good job for mommy, ” you praised him, “fuck me, Tomura, you deserve it, ”

He reached into the drawer of his nightstand, but you stopped him.

“I'm on the pill. You don't need a condom, ” you said.

He shook his head and rifled through the drawer before pulling out a cock ring, sliding it on.

“Wanna make mommy feel good too, ” he said, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck, “wanna last so mommy can cum with me, ”

You squeezed him tight, kissing the top of his head.

“You're so sweet, baby, ” you said.

He pulled down your panties, lining himself up, and hovering over you.

“Tell me if it hurts, ” he said.

You nodded, and he pushed in slowly, stretching you, but you didn't want him to stop. Once he was entirely inside you, he stopped. He tried to commit the feeling of you to memory. He began thrusting slowly, focusing all his energy on making you feel good. He reached down to rub your clit, causing you to moan out his name. He tried every angle to try and find the spot you liked. When your back arched and you moaned out, ‘right, there baby,’ he knew he’d found his mark. He kept thrusting, speeding up, watching you come undone. You grabbed his hair, arched your back into his chest, and didn't try to hide your desperate moans.

“Tomura, I'm close, ” you said, pressing his forehead to yours.

He nodded and kept going, whining and whimpering. You groaned, starting to reach your limit. You started grinding against him, chasing your high desperately. You came with a high-pitched whine, juices coating his cock.

“That's it, mommy, please cum on my cock. I love making you feel good, mommy I-, ” he was cut off by his orgasm, crying out to you.

He collapsed on top of you, cum oozing out of your hole.

“Will you go out on a date with me?” he whispered.

You laughed, “yes, of course I'll go out on a date with you, Tomura”

“Thank you, mommy, ” he whispered.

The door swung open.

“Y/n are you dead or-, ” Dabi grinned, “we’re eating good tonight, guys!” he called downstairs, closing the door as everyone cheered.

“Spinner made me go ask if you had a crush on me. I said no, but then he offered to get us all dinner for three nights, ” you explained, “plus you actually liked me back, which in my opinion is much better than anything he could have offered, ”

He chuckled, “I'll have to thank him. You're not getting out of this bed until dinner y/n, hope you know that, ”

#tomura fluff #tomura smut #tenko smut #tomura x reader #mha tomura #tomura imagine #shigaraki tenko #tomura shiragaki #tomurashigaraki #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki fluff #shigaraki smut #mha shigaraki #shigaraki x reader

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kookingtae · 3 years

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falling into you (pt. 8) PREVIEW

pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 4 | pt 5 | pt 6 | pt 7

→scenario: Jungkook’s innocence is like a breath of fresh air in your wild life, and though you know you’re toxic for him, you just can’t seem to stay away.

→genre: college au, slow burn, mutual pining, shy/nerd jk + bad girl oc (mature themes)

→a/n: so i’m not finished with pt 8 yet, since it’s such a climactic chapter it’s taking a bit longer than i anticipated unfortunately BUT i dont want u guys to think ive forgotten about it!!! i know u all are waiting so patiently, and i cannot thank you enough from the bottom of my heart <3 i hope this preview keeps you excited for what’s to come!

Jungkook could never face Y/N again.

God, how could he, knowing that he’d not only finished in five minutes like a pubescent teenager, but also in his pants while she was on top of him?

Embarrassment didn’t even begin to describe the mortification he felt. He’d never wanted the earth to swallow him whole as much as he did in that moment. Sure, he was aware of his slight social anxiety, the way he was constantly looking to bolt from uncomfortable situations—but this was different entirely. This was new territory for him; he’d never done anything remotely sexual with someone else, period, much less with the girl who hung the stars, moon, and sun in his eyes. What was he supposed to do? There was nowhere to escape to in his own bedroom, no running away from his problems that made him uncomfortable. No, he had to stand there with his head down and his crotch dripping wet while he practically begged her to leave. He had never been so ashamed of himself. He had never felt so pathetic.

But then Y/N surprised him like she never failed to do: she’d given him reassurance, another kiss even, while telling him that she actually enjoyed the experience—went so far as to say it was the best in her life. Now he knew she was lying to spare his feelings. Of all the men Y/N had been with, there was no way a virgin cumming untouched in his pants was the best of them. She was cruel to make him believe otherwise, to give him false hope.

He wouldn’t allow himself to think any differently. He couldn’t allow himself to get hurt.

Which was why he made it his mission to avoid her at all costs—something he’d gotten very good at over the past few months, and the past few weeks, specifically.

But in the same way he’d learned from the patterns of her daily routine and used them as a means to remain hidden, she’d also learned his and utilized them to her advantage as well. It was the only explanation as to how he was turning a corner inside the art building (about to take the rear exit, since she usually waited for him out front) and suddenly she was standing right in front of him.

He instantly skidded to a halt, heart rate shooting to astronomical levels and eyes widening on their own accord. “Y-Y/N,” he stuttered out involuntarily, the sight of her causing every single detail of their time spent together to come rushing back to him like a tidal wave ready to wipe him out.

As if he needed another excuse to think about the moment they shared that had changed him forever, about the way her moans sounded in his ear and her body felt on his lap and the way she touched his cheek, his neck, the way her lips felt on his skin, god help him—

Already he could feel the beginnings of a blush start to rise to his suddenly hot cheeks, and he cleared his throat and shifted his weight from one foot to the other to keep from springing yet another boner in front of her.

He slid his books in front of his waist, just in case.

While she usually approached him with the natural ease of self-confidence and charm, today she seemed worried, unsure. She chewed at her lower lip—something he didn’t think she really ever did, as he would certainly remember the way it stirred within him—and looked up at him beneath delicate lashes that framed her eyes.

He didn’t have it in him to keep from outright staring at her beauty.

“I… I missed you,” she finally murmured, and he felt the breath physically whoosh from his lungs to join his butterfly-filled stomach all the way at the floor.

It had been a few days since he’d last seen her, since she’d been in his room that night where they opened up about their past and confessed how they truly felt about one another and shared the most life-altering moment he’d ever experienced. He missed her too, god he missed her. He missed everything about her the moment she left his side—would picture her face in his mind as soon as she left his field of vision. But for some reason unknown to him, she was too kind to him, spared his feelings despite knowing what little experience he had. There was no way he’d be able to satisfy a girl—mentally, physically, emotionally—who could have anyone she wanted. Perhaps she pitied him. Either way, if she wouldn’t put a stop to it, then he would.

Or so he’d try, but alas, nothing ever went according to his plans where Y/N was concerned. And here she was, three simple words mumbled into existence and he couldn’t even remember his own name, much less why he’d been trying to fight this.

She seemed to expect he would say nothing—either that or she’d grown used to his silence—because before he had enough sense in him to even think about responding, she was speaking again. “How have you been?”

The question was asked with deliberate, genuine curiosity and concern; she really wanted to know if he was okay, how he was handling things after what had transpired between them. And no matter how hard Jungkook tried to fight this, fight her, fight himself, he was only human.

And so he stopped fighting.

“I– I missed you too,” he breathed out, and it was like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders and relocated to his gut. He tensed at his confession, mentally berated himself for his words even though she’d been the one to say them first. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, what with the way his throat locked up.

Though the second he witnessed the smile that sprang to her tantalizing lips, he felt as light as a feather floating in the breeze.

“You did?” Her eyes lit up, sparkled under the fluorescent hallway lights that still managed to capture all of her beauty despite the unflattering lighting. He didn’t think it was possible for any scenery, not even that of a dull and stuffy university building, to make her appear any less breathtaking than she always was.

“I was so worried after I left last week,” she continued without prompt. The mention of his premature finish had him stiffening in dread, though she didn’t let enough silence fester between her words for the anxiety to claw its way up his throat. “I didn’t want you to beat yourself up. I’ve noticed you tend to be too hard on yourself sometimes.” She glanced up at him with the hint of a sheepish grin dancing on her lips.

Her expression said it all: that’s an understatement.

And this shocked him to his core, because she was absolutely right.

Just how well had she gotten to know him in their time spent together over the last few months? And how? And why?

The last question would always boggle him until the end of time; he would never understand why she was interested in him. Why was he the one she had feelings for, when she claimed she never had feelings for anybody? Though he supposed he could ask himself the same thing: why did he feel things for Y/N that he had never felt for anyone else in his life? And the answer was quite simple, really: because it was her.

He didn’t know what about himself was so special to make him stand out in her mind, and as a result he still couldn’t help but be skeptical, even after her confession. But it wasn’t like he had any choice in the matter on what to do with that skepticism—not when his heart kept leading him back to her.

At some point after her accurate description of the inner turmoil that’s been plaguing his mind, his mouth had fallen open slightly. He couldn’t hide the surprise from his face even if he tried; he was speechless.

Y/N gazed up at him, not seeming in any hurry to rush the conversation along, and for that he was grateful. He’d never met somebody so patient and understanding before—just another reason to make Jungkook’s heart flutter with endearment. And it was no secret to himself anymore that he yearned to be in Y/N’s presence for as long as possible whether he was aware of it or not.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, you know,” she continued as if she could read his mind, and that was when he realized the way his eyes avoided hers and the fact that his skin was the color of tomatoes must’ve been dead giveaways. “I meant it when I said that was the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.”

Jungkook balked, practically choking on his spit at her forward, shameless words. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to the way she spoke her mind so openly without any fear holding her back. She’d gone through so much in her childhood, in her life—Jungkook not even knowing the half of it, he’s sure—and yet she was still so strong and brave and everything he wasn’t. He couldn’t help but admire the person she was today, despite all the prejudice and judgment he’d held for her when they first met.

He realized now that he was too quick to judge her, to write her off based on rumors and first impressions. He realized now that he was too quick to do that to a lot of people. Just how long had he closed himself off from others based on his skewed, morally righteous perspective? His whole life, if he had to say.

The epiphany that she was physically prying open his third eye with a crowbar, that he was now self aware and changing for the better for her—for himself—hit him all at once.

It was the most frightening sensation of his life, the introvert in him wanting to crawl back into his shell where it was safe and comfortable and dull. But deep down he knew it was also for the best.

“W-why?” He heard himself asking before he knew what he was doing. “Why do you keep saying that?”

He had to know why she insisted on standing by her statement that his mishap was not only hot, but the hottest ever. Why did she insist on lying to him, on giving him false hope? She spoke her mind in every other situation, or at least that’s what he assumed; why did she insist on sparing his feelings in this incident? Was he really that pathetic? Did she pity him that much?

She simply blinked at him once, twice, before: “Because I really like you, Jungkook.”

As if in slow motion, you could visibly see his eyes expand to the size of saucers at your words.

You would’ve found the sight comical had the situation been any different. But the way he continued to disbelieve that you could have feelings for him, that you could be attracted to everything about him despite who he was, despite his inexperience—it made your heart break in your chest. You now knew from where this inferiority complex stemmed—he’d told you himself about his family situation—and if anything, it made you want to rebuild his confidence that much more. He needed to see himself the way you saw him.

But you also didn’t want to overwhelm him, either. And you were more than willing to walk that fine line with Jungkook no matter how long it took.

“So are we on for a study sesh tonight?” You continued nonchalantly, wanting to return things to normalcy for him as much as possible before he ran away mid-conversation as he’d done so many times before. You wanted to ease his self-doubt so he’d stop avoiding you—like he’d been doing the past few days—as much as possible.

Jungkook blinked as if trying to adjust from the whiplash of your subject-change. “U–uh… if you want?”

“Of course I want to,” you replied without missing a beat, not caring how desperate you seemed so long as he didn’t question where you stood. You took a step forward, unable to help the intangible, magnetic draw you felt to him as you gazed up at him beneath your lashes. “That is… if you want to.”

You watched in agony as a gulp slowly raked its way down his throat.

“I–” his voice was hoarse before he cleared his throat. “I uh, can’t tonight. I have to study for math.”

You weren’t even sure how one studied for math, but you weren’t about to question the expert. “That’s fine! We could… do it tomorrow?”

Jungkook chewed at his bottom lip, an action he always did when he was internally struggling with something before he finally nodded his head yes in a slow, hesitant manner. “N–not in my room though,” he added as an afterthought, and when your gaze snapped to his he had a pleading expression in his eyes.

A mix of emotions rolled through you. On one hand, you were horrified at the possibility that he thought the only reason you wanted to study again was so that you could get in his pants. Which—okay, you’re not going to lie, you would love to have a repeat of last week—but that definitely wasn’t why you wanted to see him. He meant more to you than just a means to get off, which was what you’d thought of flings in the past. You didn’t want him to be just a fling, though.

You didn’t want to think of the meaning behind that fact right now, either.

But on another hand, you understood where Jungkook was coming from. Maybe it was because you’d studied him enough over the past few months to learn some of his behavior (for once you finally saw the appeal of studying), so you knew that level of intimacy was probably extremely overwhelming for Jungkook and he needed a moment to step back. Hell, it was even overwhelming for you, and that was saying something. Never had your senses, your heart, your body, your soul been attacked like that with such an abundance of emotional pleasure, and you hoped with all your might that Jungkook was feeling the same—that that was the reason he needed a breather from being alone with you, and not the fact that he just didn’t want to be intimate with you.

Unless…

Oh god, had you misread the situation entirely? Had Jungkook hated everything about that night?

Suddenly you were feeling sick to your stomach. The thought of you misunderstanding his confession—or worse, him changing his mind completely—made you want to escape to a dark and desolate stairwell and cry in the hidden nooks of the windowsill again; the irony that not only would you be pulling a Jungkook by escaping mid-conversation, but that the stairwell was also the place the two of you had your first real conversation, wasn’t lost on you.

“M–my roommate is staying in, studying for finals.” The sound of Jungkook’s voice was like a breath of fresh air whooshing into your lungs after almost drowning underwater. You blinked out of your inner turmoil, focusing on him. “So he’ll be there, i–in my room, this whole week.”

And suddenly your heart was warming with relief, hope, appreciation, like flowers blooming in the spring after a torrential downpour. Just when you thought you had him figured out, this enigma of a boy continued to surprise you. It was usually easy for you to hide your emotions—you’d been doing so for years, always wore a mask around others so that they couldn’t see the real you—and yet somehow, Jungkook must’ve sensed them anyway. He sensed the doubt, the pain, the fear that you vowed never to cage you crawling up your throat and threatening to consume you whole, and he eased it. He didn’t want you to misunderstand him. He wanted to reassure you.

If anything, that was just a testament to how Jungkook had broken down your walls—how much you had let him in, how well he was able to read the emotions you wanted to keep hidden. Your mask had begun to break, the real you showing through the cracks, and Jungkook was still standing here. He hadn’t run away.

You fought the urge to grab him and slam your lips onto his.

“Not in your room, then,” is all you managed to breathe out beneath a fluttering smile.

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts fanfic #bts smut #jungkook scenario #bts x reader #bts scenario #i hope this is good enough for the time being!!! im sorry its taking me so long to get pt 8 posted #u guys are the best i love u <3333

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imaginethathaikyuu · 3 years

Text

kinktober - day sixteen

osamu miya - hungry

kinktober faq kinktober prompt list

NSFW warning featuring: service top osamu, oral sex (reader receiving), fingerng, motivated by jealousy, he wants u bad, no aftercare other tags: osamu is very jealous, reader is a Player, their relationship is confusing and is never openly explained lol, months of osamu pining over u, mentions of reader using other men to make osamu jealous, potential ooc osamu but i dont care fem reader

word count: 3377

p.s thank u @closetedweeb01 for beta reading the beginning and helping me get this story in the right direction it was so helpful<3! and thank u @natsuonii for helping me basically the entire time i was writing this fic up until like ten minutes ago LMAO ily thank u sm sophie muah thank u <33 and also to everyone else who reached out to help or gave advice :) much appreciate

“Look up.”

Osamu did, and you grinned, laughed in disbelief as you stood over him.

“What?” he asked, squinting eyes dark with intent to stay looking at yours until you asked otherwise.

“You listened.”

“I already told you,” he started, and even as your hand moved to hold his face, even as you squatted down to straddle his lap, he didn’t break that eye contact and his baritone voice didn’t falter, “I would do anything you told me to do.”

“Anything?”

Osamu knew that you were testing him, but this was a game he was always ready to play. “Anything.”

“Why’s that?” you asked, only teasing - you already knew his answer. “You got so jealous at the bar earlier, watching me dancing with Hinata. You know… you don’t own me, Osamu.”

His only response, “I’m better than him,” and all you could do was laugh.

The look in his eyes was all too familiar - seeing it was almost comforting. That hunger he only had for you was burning hotter than ever, now mixed with competitive passion and a need to win.

“Shoyo’s pretty fit,” you hummed, a playfulness laced through your voice in a way that Osamu didn’t like. “I think he’d be a good time… I’m still waiting for him to text back.”

With his hands on your hips Osaumu pulled you closer, slotting right between your legs, the center of you perfectly aligned with the peak in his jeans.

“I’m better,” he repeated, and still, his voice was strong. As if you couldn’t break him no matter how hard you tried.

But this teasing would only be fun for so long, and although Osamu could take it for as long as you’d give it, you were growing tired. You hadn’t given him so much as a crumb and still he was waiting for you to hand him a full meal - somehow his interest in you had only grown despite your snide teasing and better-than attitude.

You were sure he would have lost interest by now, and yet he still acts as if the two of you hadn’t been in this exact position dozens of times before. Your plans to make him jealous never fall through even though everything he’s jealous of isn’t his, but he never fails to remind you that he’s the one you run back to.

And he does do everything you say. He listens and complies and obeys and yet he’s never seemed as submissive as moments ago when two words had him looking up at you like a begging dog.

You thrived on it.

“Kiss me.”

At any moment he could turn this around on you. He could leave you wanting, needing, begging; he could deny what you were asking of him and make you feel how he’s felt. And yet, he doesn’t. You told him to kiss you and so he kissed you, and he wouldn’t stop until you pulled away and gave him more instruction.

It wasn’t like him to be so behaved, to exist by someone else’s word, but, really, he was only doing what he wanted to do; the gratification he felt from doing as you told him was unmatched, and the look of pride in your eyes despite any taunting words you’d say was addictive.

And he’d take any chance he would get to show you how much he thrived on it.

He was being eager and you liked it. His hips were rocking up against you in minutes; both of his hands were holding your face and keeping you in place so he could kiss you as long as he wanted.

Maybe you were letting him get away with too much, and maybe this was going to go much faster than you ever intended, but he was finally showing you just how deeply hungry for you he was - and maybe you couldn’t get enough of it.

You matched his rocking with a thrust of your own and you felt him shiver, and you pulled out of the kiss to take this chance to tease.

“Too much?”

“Not enough,” he groaned, chasing your lips for more. You only gave him a short taste before pushing him back again, and he hit the back of the couch with a thud.

“God, you’re so fucking desperate,” you taunted. “Already this hard from one kiss?”

“All for you,” he admitted, throwing his head back as he wondered why the hell he let himself do this with you. How many times had he watched you dancing and flirting with another man all while your eyes were on him? How many nights had you left him with nothing to do but fuck his fist while trying to remember the way your lips tasted? How much longer before he’d finally have enough?

What was it about you that he was so addicted to, anyway? What did you give him that everybody else lacked? Maybe it was just the chase of it all - maybe when he finally got a piece of you he’d be able to get past the wave of emotions you send over him any time you were around.

But he knew he’d never get enough. Even if all of you was only his, he wouldn’t be satisfied.

“What do you want, Osamu?”

“Whatever you’ll give me,” he answered without looking up.

You eyed the expanse of his neck before latching your lips onto his skin, pulling a reaction out of him that had you shivering this time.

“That’s not a good enough answer,” you hummed. “Tell me what you want.”

Like he’d come to the end of his rope and had no other option but to blurt out the truth, he said, “I want to fuck you,” and he had to swallow another moan before he could think of continuing. “Wanna stuff you with my cock and fuck my cum into you and show you how much fucking better I am than anyone else who’s ever tried to make you feel as good as I can - fuck, stop moving your hips like that, baby.”

While he was mumbling descriptions of daydreams, sounding like he was making a wish to some god or star above, you were left wondering how far you would take this. You always knew you’d eventually come to this point, and yet the answer isn’t as clear as you once thought it would be.

What happens when you give Osamu what he wants? Your fun with him would end, this cat and mouse game would be over. He’d get a taste of what he’s needed and maybe he would realize you weren’t all that. And he’d be off chasing someone else while you were left looking behind, waiting to see his needy eyes on you.

Still - perfect moments like these don’t come often. And you were done toying with him, weren’t you?

“You think you can make me feel good, ‘Samu?”

“I know I could.”

“Better than Shoyo could?”

Every time you think you’re pushing just the right buttons, Osamu’s patience shows out. He should have thrown you onto the couch and had his way with you by now - you’d have no complaints if that’s how it panned out - but he held back. Even though his eyes said everything he was thinking, he stopped himself. He waited for your exact word before making any decision.

He was avoiding your eyes and you didn’t like it. “Look at me, Osamu.” He did.

“You’re gonna stop saying anyone else’s name, sweetheart - it’s not as cute as you think it is.”

Your next two words, “Make me,” were punctuated with a dramatic shift in your position - he pushed your body onto the couch and came towering over you, just like you’d been expecting him to do.

“That’s all I needed to hear - I will.”

You watched in awe as the man finally seemed to crack; he pulled his shirt off and the mask he seemed to be wearing all this time came off with it. His pristine control was thrown across the room, and all that was left was a hungry man tearing your clothes off like he was preparing his last meal.

“Are you finally gonna have your way with me?”

He grinned and said, “No,” and for a second you naively thought he was giving you a taste of your own medicine. He’d never dream of doing that, though. “I’m gonna take you how you deserve, baby - gonna show you how to feel good.” He kissed you without permission this time, too sweet to be so short, and followed it with the biting whisper, “I’m yours to use - tell me what to do and I’ll do it. Use me.”

You’ve always had this much control over him, but it was never this apparent. And you had never used it for much benefit, because you really never knew how tight of a hold you had on him. You could tighten his collar until he couldn’t breathe and he’d let you; he would take any pain you inflicted as long as you kissed him better afterwards.

And he was begging you to tell him what to do, waiting patiently and staying eager, and only now were you realizing how badly you needed to be served by no one but him.

Maybe that realization is what had your act of confidence dissolving; maybe that’s why you could hardly wrap your tongue around your next words, “Your mouth, Osamu,” because just the thought of getting what you wanted had your stomach fluttering and your underwear soaked. You’d spent so long pushing him to the edge that you ended up right there with him, teasing yourself more than you ever teased him.

He asked, “Where?” with a daring flirting edge posed to be a genuine question, like he was trying to see how commanding you would be.

You pushed his shoulders down and said, “You know where,” and as he finally moved lower down your body, you stripped yourself of the clothes he’d left behind.

He watched in desired awe as your pretty bra fell to the floor; seeing you bare underneath him for the first time felt like a bigger test of temptation than any time you had ever teased him on purpose.

But he knew where you wanted him, even if you wouldn’t say it, even if it’s not where he wanted to be yet, even if he couldn’t take his eyes off of your neck or chest or stomach - there was no need for him to do anything you didn’t ask for.

You’d already kicked your pants off and all Osamu had to do was take off your underwear, which he noted weren’t a match to your bra, and he’d add that to his list of endearing things about you. It was something so normal that nobody else would notice while he’d remember forever, something he’d tease you for later, something he’d stroke himself to the thought of.

It’d go to the back of his mind for now, though, as he pulled your underwear down your shaking legs while you watched him.

And he was convinced he was going to wake up any second now, so he rushed to make himself comfortable between your legs before his alarm clock woke him up - because there was no way this could actually, finally be happening. “God, you’re a dream.”

“Hurry.”

He could’ve listened, but he had to treat you right - this was only worth doing if he took his time.

“Just relax,” he told you as he left kisses along your hip, “can’t rush these things.”

“I would have came three times by now, if Sho - shit!”

You were cut off with a rough spank to your thigh as well as Osamu’s tongue just barely tracing your clit, and it was enough to have your words stick to your throat.

“What was that?” His voice sounded as dark as the look in his eyes, and it showed you that you’d finally found a button you shouldn’t press.

“Go on - finish that sentence. I dare you to.” And he smacked your thigh again, just to prove his point. “You think anybody else would take their time with you? Would anyone else give this pretty pussy the attention it deserves, baby? Or do you know I’m the only one?”

You had to swallow any excess pride just so you could voice a shaky reply, “I don’t know - show me.”

Instead of voicing a response, he knew the only thing he had to do was what you asked. But he was sure if you pulled another stunt like that he’d end up leaving bruises with how brutally he’d show his ownership of you - that was one thing he wouldn’t let you get away with.

But in that moment all he had to do was hook his arms around your thighs, hold you against his face, and devour you like he’d been dying to do for months now. So that’s what he did, and he watched as you threw your head back, listened as you moaned out for him, held you down as you rocked your hips against his face - and that was it. He felt like he’d just gotten a ticket into heaven.

“That’s it,” he hummed, and you hardly noticed he’d pulled his mouth off of you because he didn’t break for long. He left with his teeth barely grazing your clit before he let himself speak again, and you had to reach down and grab his hand just to keep yourself grounded. “Just come undone for me, baby.”

He groaned loud into you when you got a hold of his hair, and you felt those vibrations from his throat to your toes.

And he needed you; he had his name on your lips and your legs around his head and his tongue inside you and still, still it wasn’t enough. He wanted more even though he had it all, and he wanted to push you further even though you were right where he needed you to be.

But you kept pulling his hair and squeezing his hand and moaning his name - you were begging for him in every way you could and Osamu could hardly keep going without completely devouring you.

You seemed to be getting close and he was filled to the brim with pride, but he had to stop to see just how much control you had slipped into his grasp.

“Look down.”

You did; for the first time, to Osamu’s recollection, you listened to him.

You opened your eyes and saw him looking up at you, with the same look in his eyes as when you gave him that instruction, messy hair and flushed cheeks making him look as fucked out as you felt.

Finally, suddenly, eagerly, he gave you more than just his mouth, his fingers exploring until he sunk two of them into you, and your head fell back.

“Look at me,” he demanded, the sharpness of his voice matching the bite he left inside your thigh. “Don’t look away, or you’ll finish yourself off. And you’ll be moaning my name when you do, I’m sure.”

“Osamu, please.”

“Just like that,” and he was laughing at you, grinning and happy to be the one teasing. “What is it, sweetheart? You wanna cum for me?”

You pulled his hair and forced his mouth onto you, “Please, ‘Samu,” and he let you take the reins again because, despite how much he loved toying with you, all he really wanted to do was give you what you wanted. “Fuck, just let me cum.”

The curl of his fingers pumping into you and the warmth of his tongue lapping your clit and the obscene moans coming from his throat, with the look in his eyes and how tightly he was holding your hand and the way he was listening to your every command - it was all too much. It was all the realization of what you’d been missing, teasing, and leaving; it was something you didn’t know if you’d have again but you sure as hell couldn’t go without.

He could see the way your body reacted to every single touch, and maybe that’s why he was giving it to you exactly how you liked. And he wanted to cause a scene; you were moaning loud enough for the neighbors to hear and still not loud enough for Osamu - he was pleasuring you like he had an audience watching him and he’d be damned if he disappointed.

He was made for this, you were sure - he was right where he belonged and both of you were loving it.

“Come on, baby,” he taunted, “wanna see you cum for me, sweetheart, wanna feel this tight cunt cumming around my fingers - I know you’re holding back, just let it go.”

He tried pulling his hand from yours but you only tightened your hold and pulled his mouth back down to your clit rather than giving him his free hand or a moment to breathe. So he squeezed your hand, endeared at the feeling of you holding on to him.

Osamu felt it as you started to do as he told you and let go - he watched as your world started to amplify as you chased for more of him, begged to reach that peak, focused on getting there. Your eyes squeezed shut and Osamu just didn’t have it in him to punish you for it, especially when you looked so pretty being absolutely unraveled.

Teasing words were caught in the back of his throat but he couldn’t stop tasting you long enough to say them. Your thighs were shaking and your moans were screams and he could hardly keep pumping his fingers with how tight your walls were pulsing around them and that was it - Osamu was close to cumming himself just at the sight of you cumming for him, and the ache in his pants was more apparent now than ever before.

But he couldn’t care about his own pleasure, not while he was so absolutely focused on you and yours. You were the only thing on his mind and he could only hope you were thinking about solely him.

“So fucking hot,” he said, not even thinking anymore as he kept you cumming with his fingers. “My good fucking girl - that was all for me, wasn’t it? Look at you, making a fucking mess, all for me. All mine, aren’t you?”

He couldn’t stop, he wanted to draw this out and take you there again, he wanted to push you farther. He didn’t want you to catch your breath or take a break, he only wanted you to keep moaning, begging, cumming for him.

But, as he was ready to add a third finger inside of you, “Too much, ‘Samu.”

“Not enough,” he reminded you. “You’ve got one more for me, sweetheart, try for me.”

But you pulled on his hand you’d been holding, trying to pull him up to you, and he had to give in. After pulling his fingers out of you, careful and slow and too attentive to the way your body seemed to resist, he let you tug him up.

You clinged to him, your legs coming to wrap around his waist and your hand holding his jaw to bring him down for a kiss.

“You’re a mess,” you said with a laugh upon noticing his glossy lips and soaked chin, all caused by you.

“It’s your fault,” he said. “I’ll go clean up - you need anything?”

You shook your head, “Stay,” and hooked your legs together across his back, as if to lock him into place.

“Look who the clingy one is now,” he remarked, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t love it.

He didn’t know what all of it meant. He didn’t know how you had gone from dancing with another man mere hours ago to clinging onto Osamu like he was the only thing keeping you sane, but it didn’t matter. He had you and you were his, at least for the night, and he’d gotten a more than good enough taste of you. That was all he needed to know it’d never get better than you - and he’d keep waiting for more.

#KINKRUARY!!!!!!#sorry about the ending i decided i dont care enough to write another 300 words to wrap it up nicely. im over it #kinktober 2020 #osamu miya x reader #osamu x reader #miya osamu #miya osamu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #not family friendly

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theywillcower · 3 years

Note

can we get a more *d e t a i l e d* answer of what happens after cypher seees u in just a sweater & thigh highs 👀 ( gender neutral reader ) thank you so much love your work! :)

I have ascended to a new form of horny

Warnings: NSFW, biting

All Eyes (Cypher x Reader NSFW)

It was never quiet in his workshop, though he guessed it was quieter than it would be in Raze's, and even Breach's. Viper probably had the quietest, by virtue of the simplicity of her tech. Cypher glances up at the monitors above him just for a sec, to see if anyone was coming this way. He had his mask off, just for a little bit, to breathe easier. Hey, he couldn't keep it on all day. He had to eat at least. Besides, this way he could get a sharper look at the screens.

Nobody except them knew that he had this hookup. Nobody else needed to.

He pushes in his chair over to the desk, where a mug of coffee they brought to him sits. With just a dash of hazelnut syrup and cinnamon, it was exactly his order. They'd gotten to know him so well, Cypher thinks fondly, pushing back over to take a sip while looking at the monitors.

After only a second however he spits out the whole mouthful.

Well. They did know him didn't he?

He'd never quite been so pleased that the cameras had such high definition. One foot in front of the other, careful, to make sure that the sweatshirt barely grazing the tops of their thighs, did not ride up and show underwear. No... that was for him. Those tiny spaces of bare skin, in between those thigh highs deliciously highlighting every contour and squish of their legs... so innocent. They had probably thrown that on because they were tired, so late. They'd been together not long, and had seen (or felt) each other naked-- they'd even seen glances of his face. And yet there's something even better about those incidental spots of skin, begging to be marked. His cock strains against his pants at the thought.

He glances at their location, the Western Southbound hall. It was late. Probably everyone was asleep, except him. And them.

A mischievous smile stretches his face.

Perhaps he could meet them halfway.

How late was it, exactly? They yawn, rubbing their hand against their eyelids. The coffee cup in their hands was actually peppermint tea, a blend Sova had recommended. Sasha, unlike Cypher, sweet rose, Aamir, my lovely prince, did not have pure caffeine running through his veins. He was in his lab, they knew, and likely would be for a few more hours before collapsing into bed beside them for a few hours sleep.

They had wanted to be comfy. It wasn't chilly per se, but it wasn't warm. Perfect blend, feeling cute. Theyd had to take one of Cypher's--

"Well now."

They blink, looking up. The masked man of mystery stands before them, snaking his arms around their waist. They laugh, their own arms going around his neck.

"Hello handsome. Going to bed early?"

"No, actually. I was looking through the cameras... you know, looking for midnight intruders... when I saw something out of the ordinary." One hand snakes down to their butt, squeezing and making them gasp. They can hear the smirk in his laugh.

"This pretty little thing, out for the taking."

They swallow. Their mind races to think of something to stop the blush in their cheeks.. "But I'm not."

"Oh?" He sounds surprised.

"Because I'm yours."

There's a pause. The laugh he lets out is downright sinful. Gripping tighter, pressing them back against the wall. "Now THATS what I like to hear, little rose." He leans in, warm breath coming out even through the mask, and making them shiver. "Im going to make you BLOSSOM."

"H-here?" They glance to the side, but.... the doors are closed..?

"I sealed it off. I don't just have access to the cameras, you know." The scratch of stubble on their neck, he's pulled his mask up. Their eyes widen.

"B-but--"

"Dont worry. They'll see nothing. But I will see everything." Under the hem of their sweater go his hands, grabbing and lifting them up like a featherweight. Lips press hungrily against their neck, nipping, kissing, making them whine.

"R-R--"

"Aamir tonight. I want to remind you who your prince is."

They can't help but roll their eyes. "Sure."

"Dont give me attitude. You want me to stop?"

Their stomach sinks. "No..."

"That's what I thought." Before they can give any more snark, he kisses them, their head almost banging against the wall. They whimper as he lets one leg down, pulling off one glove with his teeth and beginning to tease their entrance. A loud whine escapes their lips, only for them to clap their hands over their mouth. Cypher only chuckles.

'"These halls are soundproof. We might have to be quick--" he gently presses a finger in, making them gasp, "But you can be as loud as you like."

"A-Aamir..."

"Mmm..." his mouth makes its way to their collarbone, pulling the sweater aside so he can reach it. "You sound SO delicious when you're nervous. I can tell."

"Y-yeah, because youre-- ah! About to screw me in a hallway," they push back, as he inserts another finger, slowly scissoring them open. "And--"

"Im hurt." His voice certainly betrays a sense of teasing, as he unzips his pants. "You don't think that I can cover everything? No one else will hear you. You're mine," Cypher growls, and they choke as his cock slowly slides in, the stretch slightly painful and all too satisfying. "And no one else gets to see what you look like fucked out."

A choked sob is practically gifted to him as he slowly thrusts in and out, pressing them up against the wall. The thigh highs have gradually moved down their thighs, where he grips on one sure to leave bruises. Deep, quick thrusts chasing each of their highs, Cypher's face perpetually buried in the crook of their neck. When he hit a certain spot deep in them, they let out a cry and looked back up at the wall. They caught sight of the camera, blinking red, and immediately turned away.

"No no, sweetheart. Smile for the camera." One hand turns their chin to the camera again, licking at the bruises he'd formed on their neck. "Im going to remember this. Just how--" he grunts, thrusting deeper, "Fucking INNOCENT you looked... did you think you could get away with it, darling rose? Flaunting your pretty little legs like that, no pants, practically begging someone to bend you over and fuck you silly." To prove his point he quickly pulled out, moved them so their hands were braced against the wall, and thrusted back in, burying himself to the hilt in one stroke. They scream at the movement, as he regains a ruthless pace, kissing at their neck and panting in their ear, voice but a hiss,

"No. Tell me who that pretty little hole belongs to, hm?"

"You," they choke, one of Cypher's fingers reaching into their mouth. He hums, a particularly deep thrust having his cock hit their sweet spot.

"Again."

"You. You."

"Use your names, pretty one..."

"Im yours, Aamir, y-yours!"

With the last word he grunts, forcing himself as deep as possible and letting them feel him. Spurts of hot cum floods them, dripping out around his cock still in them. As he pulls out, they shake, whining as he gently fingers his cum back in them, zipping himself back up.

"Youve made a mess, pretty rose. Come here."

Like a rag doll they let him scoop them up, snuggling against his chest. His lips press against their forehead, a strangely soft gesture given the bruises on their thighs in his fingerprints and the cum soaking their underwear, dripping down into the top of the thigh highs they had put on so innocently before.

"We both need some rest, yes?"

They hum in agreement, but they freeze. "T-the cameras--"

"I have access in our apartment. Don't worry." Another kiss. They roll their eyes.

"So this was recorded?"

"Of course. To watch back and critique our form."

They swat at him as the doors hiss open.

"Fuck you."

"Just did."

"I love you."

"Love you too."

#cypher x reader #cypher fanfic #im not biased not at all #agents after dark #valorant x reader #valorant fanfic

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shibarirobot · 3 years

Text

Aizawa fic - CH 5 - Entrapment

18+ ONLY! SFW (for now)

Shouta Aizawa x Villian!OC/Reader(?)

CH1

CH4

Okay this chapter kinda fucked me up. I got very emo while writing this lmfaoooo, but again sooooooo sorry that I’m so inconsistent, I care about this story and I want it to actually be good before I post ((also I have the shittiest laptop on the face of the planet so I can barely use it)) more like I just dont have the patience to deal with it XD, mais oui! le chapter is done! Please enjoy! x

The chair I’m strapped to is stiff and uncomfortable at my back. I haven't been able to move for awhile and it’s driving me fucking insane. My back aches, my thighs are sore, I can literally feel my pelvic bone, not to even mention the cracked rib still throbbing and I’ve started to remember the broken nose I gave myself. It’s hard enough to keep my head on straight, I can’t really seem to focus on the questions I’m being asked, let alone my answers. I’ve been here for hours, maybe days. I have no clue. I have absolutely no fucking clue. This dumbass, Detective Aiko just comes and goes, sometimes followed by a short man with a clipboard and glasses. He just asks a few questions and leaves, I’ve lost track of how many times he’s entered and left as quickly as he comes. This time he comes in dragging another metal chair and flips it around on the other side of the table, sitting on it backwards, like he thinks he’s fucking cool or something. He’s large, I’ll give him that. His thighs swallow up the chair easily and I’m surprised he can actually sit on the thing.

I look at him with my tired eyes. We’ve been at this too long, I’m so fucking tired and I can hardly hold his eye contact. My lips are so unbearably chapped they feel like they might split open at any moment, they might have actually, I can taste iron. I’m parched. My mouth feels like it’s full of cotton. I’m about to crack, I can feel it. “Water.” My voice is tiny at this point, crackly from the dehydration. “I need water.” My eyes start to sag and I press forward slightly, straining against the straps on my torso, skin raw beneath them after so much of my writhing.

Detective Aiko blinks at me from across the table and reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. He easily taps one forward and plucks it from the box between his lips. I can tell it’s a practiced movement, he does it without thinking. His habit has become muscle memory. He shoves the pack into his pocket again and retrieves a zippo lighter. If I was more conscious I probably would have rolled my eyes, if it didn’t feel like they might fall out of my head if I did. Of course he has a zippo, ugh. It’s like he learned how to be a cop from watching cheesy cop movies. He flicks it open and closed in a split second and the cigarette is lit. He takes a deep breath, sucking down the entire thing, inhaling so deeply that his chest puffs and swells almost double. He holds that breath for a long moment, releasing it slowly. I expect the smell of burnt tobacco, but there is none. The smoke pours from his nostrils in thick swirls, but it dissipates quickly, without a single trace that it had once been there.

I can see his eyes go glassy from the nicotine high, his shrouded eyes have barely left me. He stares at me like I’m a caged panther; cunning, dangerous, volatile. All things I might have been if I could possibly think straight. “You’ll get your water after you cooperate.” He shifts in the chair slightly, flicking the used cigarette butt to the side. It falls to the ground unceremoniously and I can only imagine how often he flings those things haphazardly and how many thousands he has personally littered into our environment. I’m instantly seething again. A moment ago, I had no capacity for anything really, and now I’m filled head to toe with rage towards this stupid fucking cop. This man withholding my fucking water, my fucking life source.

The thought that he’s actually killing me passes and I pull at the cuffs around my wrists. “Fucking water.” The chains scrape across the table and I can feel the blood on my mouth, my lips have definitely cracked in multiple spots, blood pooling between my teeth. “I fucking need water!” Now I’m just shaking the chains, trying to make enough noise to get him to give in, annoy him into submission. “Water!” His eyebrow twitches, he seemingly has a very short tolerance for my behavior now, no longer amused by my sass and antics.

He quickly rises from the chair and kicks it to the side, it goes clattering against the wall and loudly falls to the ground, tipped on its side. The sudden jolt silences me and the room is tense with the lack of sound. “Who do you work for?!” He yells at me, full chested. The same question Eraser Head asked me in the alley. Where my allegiances lie. There’s another moment of silence before I bust into intense, manic laughter. They still really think I work for someone?

My throat threatens to give out on me, but I can’t control the laughter. “Me, motherfucker!” I shout back, only not as full, my voice is dying quickly, my laughter soon falling with it, replaced by a hacking cough that I’m pretty sure just shredded the dry skin inside my very dry throat. That doesn’t really seem to satisfy him though. He just grunts and picks the chair back up, setting it upright, but not sitting down in it like before. He just stands there, so tall and trying to be intimidating.

He crosses his arms over his chest and scoffs at me just once. “So we’re gonna keep playing this game, huh?” He pulls out another cigarette and huffs it down just as quickly as the first, barely even savoring the drag. His eyes close and he shrugs. “I guess you don’t want that water.” He quickly strides out of the room, leaving me alone and tortured. I can’t move, my body is giving out, I can’t speak because of my hoarse, abused throat, I can’t do anything at all, but sit here. My mind flashes back to when I felt this way before, tied to a dining chair in front of my drunk birther. My eyes start to water and I am amazed that I even have the moisture left in my body to cry. The parallels are too similar and I can feel myself reverting back, the whimpering that’s beginning in the back of my throat. A couple tears start to fall and I’m slowly slipping into that mindset when I hear the door open again.

I try my best to harden my face, trying to mask the depravity that I had just been wallowing in, refusing to make eye contact with Detective Aiko as he rounds the table again and sits in that chair. He sets something on the table and I’m surprised when I look up, to see Eraser Head sitting in that chair across from me instead. There’s a water bottle on the table and I honestly have nothing to say. I’m overwhelmed by this change of events and the tears come faster now, silently streaming down my face. I feel so vulnerable and this man that I have only prodded and teased is the one here to help me. It’s like the universe is laughing at me, it feels like a trick, but one I’m knowingly and willingly letting myself fall into. I suck in a deep breath, hoping he won’t say anything about my tears. “They haven’t cleaned you up at all, have they?” His voice is low, but he honestly sounds concerned. I lamely shake my head, unable to tell him that I’ve been sitting strapped to this chair since the moment he left. He grunts shortly then stands, slowly grabbing the water bottle and cracking the lid open.

My tears lessen as I watch him, he’s looking at me like I’m a wounded animal and deep down I can’t blame him. All I’ve done since meeting him is lash out and hurt him. In spite of all that he reaches out to me slowly, the cold water bottle in one hand, the other gingerly gripping the side of my neck and tilting my head back. I look at him hesitantly. I’m just supposed to let him pour water into my mouth? That feels too weird, and intimate, and needy, but I can’t really pour the water into my own mouth, so I part my lips for him. He gently presses the rim of the water bottle onto my bottom lip, easing the cold, fresh water onto my sandpaper tongue. His fingertips graze the skin on my neck as the pad of his thumb softly wipes away my tears. It’s so gentle and intimate that I can’t help but cry harder. I’ve never felt such a sincere caress and it’s like my heart is breaking into a million pieces, astounded by the tenderness that I haven’t allowed myself to even realize I was missing. The silent resentment falling away for a moment and letting something new replace it. Adoration? Sympathy? Genuine gratitude?

I take in this new feeling hesitantly as I try to gulp down the water as quickly as he’s pouring it into my mouth. I relish in the feeling of the cool liquid on my tongue and into the back of my throat, soothing the burning I had endured for so long. The tears continue to fall even after the water bottle is empty and I realize his hand is still gently stroking my cheek in an attempt to calm my tears. He tosses the empty water bottle aside and peers down at me. I stare back up at him, my eyes starting to puff up from the tears I had just shed, cloudy with the residual moisture on my lashes. He’s even more beautiful now than ever before, caring for me so tenderly, and I think I understand now. I love him. I must love him. The way I was drawn to him before, it all makes sense. I’ve never felt anything like this before, no one has ever given me even a sliver of a second thought, but here he is. This man I don’t even know caring for a tortured criminal that’s done nothing, but awful things. It must be love. It must be... something at least.

I realize the moment’s been too long and I turn my gaze away, squeezing my eyes shut. I can’t help but feel embarrassed. Here he is helping me, giving me the water I so desperately needed and I can’t even choke out a ‘thank you’. Should I? Would he want me to? His hand falls away and I hear him start to shuffle to the door. Dammit. I’m breathing heavy, trying to catch my breath from the way I gulped down water like a dying horse. “I’m going to get a first aid kit.” I almost don’t hear him, but my eyes snap open. He’s coming back? To help me even more? Eraser Head is… going to tend my wounds… that I got fighting… HIM. This is all so bizarre and my head spins a little, but I can’t help the trace of a grin that tugs on my lips and the slight twinge of heat in my cheek.

I hear that knock on the door again, but before it opens I mumble out a small, drained. “Thank you.” My throat is still destroyed, but it’s enough that I hope he heard me. I guess I’ll never know if he did or even cared because the door opens and closes with no acknowledgment that I had said anything. Once again, I am left by myself, in this too bright room, strapped to a metal chair. As I sit here, it’s hard not to fall back into my miserable thoughts. Self loathing and what if’s come easily. What if that really was a trick? What if he’s never coming back? What if I just imagined the whole thing? What if he’s disgusted by me and just taking pity? I internally cringe at myself. That one is probably closest to the truth. He thinks of me like a charity case, someone who can’t help themselves. He’s a hero after all, that good ole savior complex will always rear it’s big, nasty head at some point. He’s helping me to make himself feel better, not to make me feel better. I sneer at myself. I almost fell into his trap, but no. I’m better than that. I was almost that dumb cunt I used to be, trusting people, needing others help. Fuck no. I promised myself I would never be that person again. I’m better now.

But then the indignation fades and all I’m left with is the reality of the situation. I do need his help. I’m broken and bleeding, strapped to a chair in an interrogation room. I start to cry again. It’s not a heavy cry, just one that makes you realize so much in such a short period of time. I cry as I realize I do need help. I need more help now than I’ve ever needed before. I’ve probably needed help this entire time and refused to see it, refused to ask for it. Asking for help never seemed like an option, it seemed like a burden. Yet, Eraser Head isn’t even offering me help, he’s giving it. Willingly. Of his own accord.

I continue to struggle with my thoughts on the situation far longer than I would deem necessary before I admit to myself it doesn’t matter because he’s simply not coming back. It’s been too long for him to have actually been going to get a first aid kit. He’s gone forever now. Poof. Might as well stop thinking about him. I can’t though. Can’t stop thinking about his perfect face, the way he touched my neck, the tenor of his voice, the scruff on his chin, the scar under his eye, the heat of his body behind mine. It all sends a thrill through me, but more than that, just a deep sense of longing. I yearn for him. I just want him to come back to me, I don’t care if he has the first aid kit he left for or not. I just want him to be present with me because everything just hurts less when he’s here. The open wounds mean nothing when he’s here. He’s the only reason any of my pain has ever been eased. I need him. I love him.

I start to allow fresh tears to fall, but my eyes are already welded shut from the fat tears I had shed earlier, too heavy to open and crusted over with dried tears because I still can’t wipe my eyes. The new ones gently come and allow me to crack open my eyes just slightly. I’m honestly on the brink of exhaustion, but my body has miraculously found a way to push forward. I’m taking a deep breath, trying to re-center myself. Get a grip on reality. Stretch my fingers and toes, get some feeling back in my aching body, crack my neck as best as I can. It’s not much, but it helps. I’m the only one that can do anything for me now. I start trying to survey the room to a closer extent than I had before, but honestly it’s still the same, too bright, all white room. I guess I can see a vent in the top right corner, but it’s too small for me to even think about escaping from. Not to mention, I can’t see a camera, so it must be in the corner behind me, watching, recording my every move. I grumble. There’s also the two way mirror, that I assume has had at least three people on the other side of it at all times. I’m completely under thumb.

I sigh, there’s not much I can do in this situation, and this dumb collar is still canceling my quirk. I’m chained up and defenseless. Fucking great. The door scrapes open again and I startled to see Eraser Head quickly invade the room, that wild look in his eyes again. The tips of his hair are flicking back and forth angrily, but not like it was before when he was erasing my quirk, more like… he’s just worked up. He’s breathing deeply, standing up straight and crossing his arms, a full 180 from his calm, gentle demeanor he had earlier. He’s actually quite intimidating like this and I start to shrink into myself, not knowing why his mood has changed. I didn’t do anything. He looks to the door and reaches out to flick his wrist in a ‘get the fuck over here’ motion. Detective Aiko comes into the room and unlocks my cuffs, releasing my arms from the table. He seems reluctant and I’m insanely confused by this sudden turn of events. My eyes are wide and I look to Eraser Head again, confusion evident on my twisted up face. “I’m taking you to the hospital. The collar will stay on and I will cuff you down when we get there.” He says it all so blankly and I’m even more confused that I was before he answered.

Detective Aiko doesn’t look up, he just grumbles out a gruff, ‘bad fucking idea’ before moving onto the straps at my torso, allowing me to pull away from the chair just a little bit. I struggle to force my muscles to keep myself upright, wanting to slump over and crumple to the floor. He undoes the one at my lap and I barely feel it because my entire bottom half has gone numb at this point. He lowers down further and unlocks the cuffs at my ankles, fully freeing me from the chair. I’m immediately elated to be liberated once again, getting overzealous and springing from the chair. Blood rushes to my head and my numb legs remind me how bad of an idea that is because I tip forward, falling into the metal table, the wind knocked from my lungs. I let out a wheeze and feel strong hands pull me back up onto my feet from my shoulders.

Eraser Head wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me flush to his hip to support my weight. I can feel his hero muscles swell as he pulls me off the table, shifting so we can shuffle towards the door. I’m still dazed and weak, trying to work with his movements instead of against them, but my legs can barely hold myself up and he ends up dragging me along with him more than anything else. My head is right next to his shoulder, tucked tight to his body and I press myself closer, nuzzling my cheek onto his collarbone. He feels so good against me. I’m so woozy, I feel like I’m dreaming. This all could be a mirage, I am dehydrated as hell. But it feels so real and so good that I just submit to it immediately. I press even further, trying to get up to his neck. Trying to be closer. The moment crashes around me in an instant as cuffs fall around my wrists. Damn. It’s Detective Aiko standing behind me, cuffing my wrists together and ruining the moment I was just having with Eraser. I glare up at him and he just ignores me, squeezing the cuffs tighter, too tight. I yelp, but he just looks over to Eraser Head like, ‘Really?’. Eraser grunts and holds his hand out for the key, he still has that wild look in his eye and I realize now that it’s pointed at Detective Aiko. HE’s in the doghouse, not me. Well, I am still arrested, but it doesn’t really feel like it when Eraser Head is personally escorting me to the ER, cuffs or no cuffs. Detective Aiko drops the key into his outstretched hand with an eyeroll.

Eraser Head spins me around, so I’m facing forward. My head is still dizzy, but my legs are starting to get some feeling back and I’m able to stand on my own now, even if I am a bit wobbly. He pulls me close to him again, gripping my bicep with one hand and supporting my weight with a hand on my hip. He’s taller than I remember him being. Glancing over my shoulder, I have to look up at him. His jaw is set, clenched with the anger he’s trying to hold back, silently seething. He’s still eyeing Detective Aiko with a menacing nature, I know his quirk is eye related, but it seems he also has a natural affinity for staring anyways. I watch him tuck the key into his front pocket, then grip my arm again, his hands are so large. I gulp, now realizing my ass is basically pressed up to his hip. He’s still taller than me, it's more like his thigh, but that doesn’t change the fact that my ass is on this man. My mind goes crazy as he holds me there, having some kind of stare down with Aiko. Neither of them has moved, but after a moment the detective shifts back with a grumble. Eraser Head grunts and guides me forward, supporting me as we exit the interrogation room.

Eyes follow us as Eraser Head leads me out of the room and down the hall. The receptionist at the front desk gasps when she sees me walking (semi) free. I can tell they all know who I am. I can tell they’re all scared of me. I don't need my quirk for that. I take advantage of the tense scene before me and grin, lurching forward at the woman sitting at the desk. Eraser Head is still gripping me firmly, so I don’t make it very far before he yanks me back to his body, but I do make it far enough to scare that bitch gawking at me. She screams and drops the phone receiver in her hand, stumbling backwards. I didn’t really expect such a dramatic reaction, did she really think I was gonna rip her head off or something? I’m fucking handcuffed… and doesn’t she fucking work at the police station? She should be used to this by now, why is she so fucking scared? Dramatic bitch.

Eraser Head pushes me forward, obviously still riled up from previous events. I stumble forward a bit, but his grip on me is so firm I couldn’t fall if I wanted to. We continue walking through the waiting lobby, until we reach two large glass doors. Outside the doors, it’s day time, probably late afternoon by the look of the sunlight. I take a deep breath, ready to take a step out those doors, ready to leave this awful fucking place, full of these awful fucking people. Eraser presses the handicap button and the door swinging open, the air is warm as we step out and it’s a little joy in this shitty situation that I bask in for a moment. When we step onto the sidewalk, I look up at Eraser Head. This protective stance, the hand on my hip, if I just ignore the handcuffs it’s like we’re a couple on a stroll. I smile up at him, thinking about how sweet he looks with his hair catching the late afternoon light. It’s golden hour and it settles on him nicely, highlighting his stark features. His eyes flick down to me and an expression of genuine surprise passes his face for a split second. He looks away quickly, a blush coating his cheeks, but his face returns to its stoic default.

We continue like this for a moment until we come up on his vehicle. I’m not sure what I expected, but a small wave of sadness washes over me as he opens the rear door, shoving me into the backseat. I didn’t really think he would put me in the front with him, but this feels so… impersonal. I guess that’s what we are. Impersonal. I mean, I don’t even know his last name. I slouch into the black leather of the car and pout to myself, feeling defeated. Eraser Head buckles me into the seat, leaning over me with his whole, big body. Heat floods my stomach and suddenly I’m feeling something… else. I huff, breathing in his scent, I can still smell the bergamot on him, but the other scent on him still eludes me. It’s sweet and musky, almost earthy. He pulls away before I can breathe in again, shutting the door on me, boxing me into this car alone again. He’s in the driver’s seat about 4 seconds later, but the silence of being alone again still stands out to me. I shake my head, and try to focus on the sounds of the car as he roars the engine to life and pulls out of the parking lot.

Thank you for reading! :)

I love reading yall’s comments so please leave a note for me! (see that double entendre hehe im so smart)

but seriously, thanks for the love and the followers especially for only one fic

(also I hope u all can tell how much I fucking despise the cops for this chapter)

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auty-ren · 4 years

Text

The Offer: Chapter 2

Touches

Pairing: ClanLeader!Mando x fem. Reader

Rating: T (Mature for future chapters)

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Injury, Touching, Insinuations of sex, Cursing (just a tiny bit), Fluff, Yearning (a lot).

A/N: I’m having so much fun writing this. Please let me know what you think! Comments and feedback appreciated always. It’s also on AO3. Hope y’all enjoy💕

Chapter 1 | Chapter 3

Mandalorian lore via mandoa.org (I dont own it)

ClanLeader!Au created by @magichandthing

Gif by @coredrive

Summary: You finally get to speak to Clan Leader Djarin again.

Your nose was definitely broken.

The elder assessed that much on her initial exam of your face.

The bile in your stomach churned and nausea flooded your senses at the thought of having to reset the broken cartilage. You knew they would have to realign your nose otherwise it would never grow back properly. However, your stubbornness took hold and you wouldn’t let the elder anywhere near your face. You knew the pain that was eventually going to happen, but you dreaded the process. You wanted to postpone it for as long as you could. You tried to rationalize other options, internally debating and trying to come up with excuses for Mira and the Elder. Maybe if it was left alone, your nose would heal just fine; it seemed like a probable outcome you just hoped Mira would see it that way and leave you be.

Mira, of course, had different plans.

It took Mira straddling you, completely immobile due to her weight pressing into your chest, and the strength she held your arms with for the Elder woman to be able to fix your nose from its dislocated position. When she finally did, you're sure your scream reverberated off the walls.

“We underestimated your strength ad’ika.” The woman joked after giving a final dose of a bacta shot. Your eyes were still watering and you just huffed in response, causing Mira to chuckle from across the room.

Mira’s company started to grow on you, even though at first your time together was filled with silence. She often busied herself around the hut; shining her armor, cleaning her assortment of weapons, tinkering with different pieces of mechanics that littered the shelves. You would offer to help and she accepted, reluctantly at first, but you were starting to think she enjoyed your company as much as you did hers.

Most of the conversation was you asking questions about Mira and her people. You had some knowledge of the ways of a Mandalorian but Mira always explained it better. She always answered you with a sense of patience, explaining everything to you in detail you could understand. You appreciated it, the last thing you would want to do is offend her people with ignorance. She seemed to enjoy your enthusiasm for learning about Mandalorian culture.

“Ba'jur bal beskar'gam, Ara'nov, aliit, Mando' a bal Mand'alor, An vencuyan mhi.”

“What?”

“It is a rhyme taught to children, so they can better understand our way of life.” She put down the tool she was cleaning her armor with, handing you the piece to polish. Before you could even ask, she recited the same phrase to you in basic.

“Education and armor, Self-defense, our tribe, Our language, and our leader, All help us survive.”

Days bled into weeks and you started to lose count of how long you had been with Mira. Your injuries had healed fully thanks to Mira and the elder that visited you. Light remains of your still healing bruises were all the evidence of the encounter. As you felt better, Mira invited you to accompany her into the village. It had almost become pleasant, the little routine you two had. The fresh air always felt nice, and Mira filled the time telling you more stories of her clan.

“That man,” you paused, debating whether or not you should even bring up the topic. “The one who I met when we first arrived, who was he?”

Ever since then you found yourself wondering about him more than you liked to admit. He and Mira had been the first people to treat you with kindness in a long time, so you figured the reaction to him was just grateful. Your curious nature made it almost impossible to not want to know more. You had learned much about Mira the last few weeks, and the persistent thoughts of him would certainly cease at knowing more of him. At least that's what you told yourself, but it was hard to forget that blooming you felt in your chest when he first spoke to you. How the deep timbre of his voice felt like honey that settled in your bones. You caught yourself daydreaming how his voice would sound without the mask of his voice coder, just as rich and deep but something new and soft against your ears. It probably felt heavenly to hear him whisper things to you, his breath gentle in your ear.

Mira turned to you and watched as you waited for an answer. It was as if Mira could read your thoughts from the way her head tilted to look at you. You were thankful she didn't pry, that was a conversation you didn't want to have.

“He is the strongest and conscientious of us all, which is why the High Elders chose him to lead and defend our clan. Each of the pendants he wears is a testament to his fortitude.”

You listened intently, hanging on to every word Mira spoke.

“They say he received his signent by hunting a Mudhorn that terrorized the village and killing the beast with a viro-blade as his only weapon.”

“Oh,” was all you could say, your voice just a whisper in the silence left behind her words. As much as you will yourself to be satisfied with this information, it only seemed to stoke the fire that had been set ablaze by him. You wanted to know so much more, the desire to be around him was something you tried hard to ignore.

—

Much to Mira’s protest you mostly stayed to yourself, already feeling so out of place. Aside from her, the elder, and the brief encounter with the clan leader Djarin you hadn’t spoken to anyone else since being here. She tried all she could to get you to attend their weekly dinner, a celebration every clan member attended, she insisted. You eventually caved to her persistence. So you sat with her at one of the long wooden tables, chipping away at the plate full of food in front of you. Every so often you stopped to pull at a loose thread in your sleeve, somehow hoping the action would ease the anxiousness you felt.

The clan had given you new clothes shortly after settling with Mira. She presented the garments to you one night, explaining that the leaders agreed you would feel more comfortable in them. A simple, deep red, long sleeve tunic, and a long brown skirt that flowed around the movement of your legs. It was similar to the attire you’d seen some of the women in the village wearing. It felt unusual at first, you were so used to wearing the same few articles, almost threadbare in places from the years of consistent wear. These clothes seemed almost new, soft to the touch, and fit your body perfectly. The gesture nearly brought tears to your eyes, no one had given you such a thoughtful gift since you were a child.

It was so refreshing to see that not all the hope had been purged from the galaxy. Mira's people were just as legend had described them, fierce warriors with integrity and strength that rivaled entire battalions of soldiers; but there was also love and kinship that was deeply rooted in pillars of their society. It seemed almost surreal, this warrior race had taken you in; had healed and cared for you. It was something you had to witness first-hand, no amount of stories could convey the community the Mandalorians had, at least no one would believe you if you had tried.

You opted to observe the events of dinner, not wanting to cause any more trouble than you felt you had already. Mira had not lied when she said everyone would be there. The tables were filled with people laughing and enjoying the company of each other. It felt so peaceful, and the unsettling feeling in your stomach subsided as the dinner went on. The evening eventually started winding down when dusk had settled over the village. You thought it would be rude to leave without Mira, so you waited patiently on the sidelines wanting to return to the hut.

“How are you feeling?”

Din leaned his shoulder against the wall behind you, his arms crossed and his head tilted to the side. You jumped, you hadn't even heard him coming towards you. He seemed amused at your reaction, letting out a huff that slightly jolted his shoulders.

“I’m fine,” You felt that same pull start in your chest. “Mira has taken very good care of me.”

“Good.”

He became silent, watching the clan mingle like you were. This was exactly what you had been hoping for, to be alone, to be able to talk with him, and ask all the things you had been pondering since your initial meeting. But now you felt so small, every word you had readied was lost on your tongue, swallowed by the intimidation you felt. He was the noblest warrior of his clan, strong and authoritative in his ways but he made your heart flutter in a way you didn't know could. It was suffocating, being around him but you craved it nonetheless.

He moved to sit next to you, straddling the bench you sat on. You could feel him looking at you, but you didn't dare tear your gaze from in front of you. You felt your face flush all the way to the tips of your ears. He hadn’t said five words to you and you were already a mess.

“I should find Mira,” you broke the tension, hoping to escape so you could finally breathe again. “It's late.”

Before you could distance yourself he spoke, halting you in your tracks.

“I can return you to your hut,” he paused pushing himself to stand. He considered you for a moment as if to debate his next words.

“If that's what you wish.”

—

“I haven’t seen you since your arrival.” It wasn't really a question, more of an observation. You turned to look at his helmet, still trained on the path in front of you.

“Mira forced me to break my isolation.”

A huffed laugh came through his helmet, effectively melting some of the tension that had built up. Your own smile stretched across your lips, he still made you incredibly nervous but he at least had a sense of humor.

You didn't exchange any more words, silence falling back over you both. It felt just a little different than before, the tension wasn't drawn so tight. A light airy feeling replaced the energy that flows between the two of you. You could feel your muscles relaxing just the slightest bit, the bubbling worry in your stomach replaced with a dull ache.

Your senses focused back on your surroundings, cool darkness had enveloped your path, lit only by the torches mounted against the huts. People still congregated in the street, groups exchanging wishes of sweet dreams as most of them prepared for sleep. As you passed, side by side with their leader, each person stopped to give a small bow. Some of their gazes lingered on you, not in a judgemental way, most of them just seemed curious in nature. It was probably odd, seeing some strange woman being escorted by the most respected man in their village. If he noticed their looks, he didn't make it known.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a small flash of bright color, sticking out noticeably against the neutral tones of the earth. You stopped and tucked in between two of the homes lining your path home, was a small flower bed. Some of the buds had yet to bloom, the new petals poking through the green shell that encased them. Others were full and brilliant, ranging from every color under the sun. You kneeled down to gently caress the buds in the palm of your hand.

Din didn’t realize you had stopped at first. He noticed the absence of your footsteps and turned around, watching you admire the flowers. He walked closer to you, essentially blanketing you in his shadow. Like before, you failed to notice his presence behind you.

“Sorry,” you apologized once you realized he was waiting for you. Standing up and brushing the dirt from your knees. You awkwardly clasped your hands together in front of you, waiting for him to respond. He stood still, completely static and it felt like a standoff of who would move next. You thought of saying something, anything to get him to act again but before you could he cut you off.

“You like…” He seemed to carefully consider his next words, in some ways it almost seemed meek the way the syllables rolled off his tongue. “Flowers?”

You turned your head to glance at the bed behind you. Realizing now how odd you must've looked, stopping to smell flowers like some child. You looked forward and he had yet to move still staring directly at you, at least that's what you assumed it was hard to tell with his visor.

“Yes, um…” Your mouth felt dry and tightened around your words. You know he didn't ask for an explanation but you gave one nonetheless, trying to ease your embarrassment.

“My mother used to have flowers on my home planet,” You turned your face down to your hands, rubbing your thumb at the juncture of two of your fingers. “I haven't seen any since the day I left...”

It had been a long time since you had thought of your old life. Ever since the war it had become painful to even entertain the good memories. Your parents had become ghosts of what they once were. Their faces were just flashes in your mind, reduced to the few reminders that stuck with you. The smells of cedar and earth reminded you of your father, his clothes always permeated with the smell of the outdoors. Sometimes you could recall how kind his eyes were, seeing a glimpse of them in your dreams. You remembered your mother’s flowers, how they grew during the warm season filling beds of green with vivid, swirling color.

“I didn’t realize they still grew.” You tried your best to keep the emotions these memories held from finding your face, but Din sensed them nonetheless. He hesitated for a moment before gesturing for you to follow him again.

—

“Thank you, for walking with me,” you said turning to him with a small smile on your face as the hut came into your view.

“Of course.” He stopped just a few feet away from you, turning to mimic your position.

“Goodnight,” you said, turning and walking up the few steps of the porch to Mira’s home.

“You never told me your name,” he said, causing you to stop just in front of the door, you turned back to face him.

You told him, giving a slight smile at the end of your words. He parroted your name, climbing up the stairs becoming level with you again. He moved closer to your body, leaving just a few inches between your chests. You looked up into his visor, your reflection more noticeable with the close proximity of your bodies.

He repeated your name, his hands going for one of the necklaces resting against his chest. He lifted it away from him, bringing the necklace around your neck, the cool metal of the pendant resting just above your breasts. You looked between him and the mythosaur skull, the same one you saw plastered on nearly everything in the village. You wanted to say something, your mouth opening, and closing while trying to focus long enough to string a few words together.

“You’re so beautiful.” He leaned his arm against the door behind you, pinning you between him and the wood of Mira’s hut. His other hand came up to trace along the length of your neck, his knuckles stopping when they reached your chin.

You felt like you were on fire, your blood running white-hot under your skin, leaving a blushed tint in its wake. You didn’t dare look up at him, afraid you’d melt under his gaze that seemed to bore straight through you. You kept your eyes fixated on the expansion of chest level with your eyes.

“Have you thought about staying?” His fingers gripped your chin, bringing you to look directly at his visor.

“Stay?” You were a little taken back, your voice coming out as a squeak compared to his. “Here?”

“Yes, here.” He chuckled, his voice dropped mocking the whisper in your tone. A smile threatens the corners of your lips and you bite on the inside of your cheek to stop the spread. He thought it was entertaining, watching you become giddy under his attention. You turned to look just past his shoulder, willing the flush you felt on your face and neck to subside. You had wanted his attention and now you had it but you were failing miserably at being anything but at his mercy.

“Do you like it here?” He said sensing your hesitation, forcing you to focus on him again.

“Yes, of course.” It was true, you enjoyed your time. But to stay? What place did you have here? They had made you feel so welcome but you were an outsider and you had yet to offer any contribution to their way of life. You had felt better than you had in years. Like a familiar version of yourself had taken over again, replenishing the life you so desperately tried to find before. It felt invigorating but you knew it couldn't last forever, and with your injuries in the final stages of healing, you knew that time was coming to an end.

“Then stay.” His voice was firm but held a sort of gentleness that made your heart flip in your ribcage.

He grabbed your hand, leading your palm to rest in the middle of his chest. Your fingers instinctively spread over the warmth of his skin, he interlocked his fingers with yours, effectively trapping your hand behind his.

You couldn’t see his face, but it felt as if you were staring right into his soul. You imagined the depth and piercing look of his eyes. You imagined they were just like the rest of him, fierce and intriguing but with a softness hid behind them. Mesmerizing you and making you want nothing more than to fall deep in their hypnosis. You wanted to kiss him, to feel him against you, flesh and bone to be explored by your fingertips. You wanted to be encased totally by him, to drown in the warmth he exuded, to feel nothing but him for the rest of your days.

With a newfound boldness, you slipped your hand away from his slowly trailing down the center of his chest. The pads of your fingers moved over the toned muscle of his chest, doing exactly what you had daydreamed about since you met him. His skin was a beautiful tanned color with scars scattered, telling the story of his battles. You traced a few, fingers delicately moving across the raised skin. You felt his breath released from behind his helmet, so quiet you may have not noticed if it weren't for the rise and fall of his chest. You continued your movements, traveling down until you met the trail of hair that peeked out from his trousers. He abruptly grabbed your wrist, a groan filtering through to your ears. His grip was firm, stopping your actions but being careful not to hurt you.

“You should get some rest.” His voice was so low, gravelly, barely registering with the voice coder of his helmet. He released his grip, moving your hand back to your side.

You were afraid you had fucked up, misreading him and crossing some forbidden line. Shame flooded your mind, causing your gaze to drift to your feet. He reached up to your face, pushing the hair that fell in your face back, revealing the timid look that fell on your features. He held his palm against your face for just a moment longer than necessary. As his hand fell from your face, you were back to staring into the darkness of his visor, surprised by the tenderness of his actions.

“Goodnight,” He whispered, turning back to walk down the steps, leaving you stunned and missing his warmth.

“Goodnight.”

—————

Taglist: @queenofheavenandhell @youmeanmybrain @theocatkov @dreamgirl-67 @duker42 @spxcedxdddy @vikingqueen28 @hdlynn @leo-moon @tiffdawg

(Let me know if you want to be added or removed!💕)

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in-the-whisper · 3 years

Note

I'm sorry if this is a common/stupid ask but I fundamentally don't understand religion and I couldn't imagine believing so strongly in anything, but it seems very nice(?) and possibly even optimistic to have a constant like that in your life. so in the sense I think I have an idea of what religion is, what makes you decide(?) to follow it or believe in it? genuine apologies if this comes across as patronizing or condescending, it's not my intention and sometimes I'm just bad with words ':]

dude you are always welcome here and i will never assume that you are being mean you are very sweet <3 i am very happy to talk to you!

ok so i come from a super different background so it’s hard for me to even imagine like not knowing a ton of people who are religious so i will try to explain and then if it doesn’t make sense feel free to poke me and i will try again. also it makes me happy so dont be scared i will say oh! someone asked me about God! yay! and then i will write a silly tumblr post while making this face -> c:

okay so one of your confusions seems to be why i would believe in something so strongly. in a way everyone believes things strongly, some even more than me (i mean look at politics and thanksgiving dinner). i think the reason that my relationship with God in particular is something i feel strongly about is because i derived my faith from my natural understanding of the value of my friends and from my understanding of morality.

i love my friends very much (most people do) and the idea of them getting hurt or mistreated makes me very angry (i think people would agree). and you could make the argument that the reason that i care so deeply about people and justice is because of all the stuff ive been through but i did think this before anything bad happened to me really.

there is a difference between atheist (philosophical) morality and Christian morality. for someone who doesn’t believe in God, there isn’t anybody who is more important than humanity who can tell them what to do. if one person does something, and i don’t like it, all i can say is, “i don’t like that,” and not “you shouldn’t do that.” because im not in charge of them. i’m just another person, who am i to go around establishing moral laws for other people?

but what that /also/ means is that there isn’t any “grounding” or like /reason/ for morality or the value of life other than personal preference. this Really bothered me about my philosophy class, every atheist philosopher did this. they all wanted to say that you could make morality for yourself (looking at you nietzsche). But then what happens? What about when someone is killed? or raped? I want to be able to say, “Rape is horrible.” and not just “Rape is horrible in my opinion.” Anything that doesn’t allow for these like absolute, unquestionable, overarching standards of how people /should/ or /shouldn’t/ live just doesn’t add up imo.

Atheist professor of law at Yale, Dr. Arthur Leff, wrote an article on this exact topic called “Unspeakable ethics Unnatural Law.” The entire thing is amazing and I recommend it, but here is the conclusion:

All I can say is this: it looks as if we are all we have. Given what we know about ourselves and each other, this is an extraordinarily unappetizing prospect; looking around the world, it appears that if all men are brothers, the ruling model is Cain and Abel. Neither reason, nor love, nor even terror, seems to have worked to make us "good," and worse than that, there is no reason why anything should. Only if ethics were something unspeakable by us, could law be unnatural, and therefore unchallengeable. As things now stand, everything is up for grabs.

Nevertheless: Napalming babies is bad. Starving the poor is wicked. Buying and selling each other is depraved. Those who stood up to and died resisting Hitler, Stalin, Amin, and Pol Pot-and General Custer too-have earned salvation. Those who acquiesced deserve to be damned. There is in the world such a thing as evil. [All together now:] Sez who? God help us.

So if I think this is true, if I really believe that death is evil, that rape is horrible, that there are some universally binding and unchallengeable truths about how people ought to live, I have to believe in a God. or i can live in a state of constant existential dread hahahahaha, , I joke but I actually did do that for a while it was pretty miserable.

i think the next question was kind of what made me believe in it? and that is kind of a difficult question because i think in a way Christianity just encapsulates a bunch of things that i already believed, and i just found like a label for them i guess. i also grew up Christian, so for me my experience questioning my religious identity was more like, three people you love are dead why do you still believe in a loving God? Rather than which religion or philosophy do i like the best?

idk maybe they come out to be the same but it doesnt feel entirely the same. i’m still a christian because of sunsets and sunrises and because the world feels beautiful and intentional, and because i’ve been in a lot of pain and it was real. it really happened. it wasn’t in my head (looking at you stoicism). it wasn’t unimportant. there is not if buts ands ors it was just awful and that’s that. so what can explain it? what can explain meaning? only God can.

Christianity is specifically the religion im interested in because it’s the only one i’ve come across that is as internally consistent, historically accurate, scientifically accurate, coherent understandings of the universe.

No other philosophy allows you to grieve. That’s why I believe in God. No other philosophy validates grief that a belief in a loving God, a belief that death isn’t meant to happen, that people are violently ripped from you without purpose and that you are meant to live together forever. It allows for a belief in the value of humanity and grace while also allowing you to believe that things that happen to you that might last with you forever are wrong and not just in your opinion. They were violently wrong, they violated ancient laws of the universe, they were an act of aggression toward God himself.

Ok im rambling now but I will leave you with this, which is what i wrote after finally deciding to remain a christian:

“There are several questions I asked that stopped me from rejecting Christianity.

Where did the universe come from and why does it exist?

Why does our experience involve morality?

Why is there love? (deep love between brothers, self sacrificial love, to die for another love)

Why is there goodness?

There are, of course, answers to these questions under ideologies other than Christianity, but I found their answers to be unsatisfying because to me, the existence of these things screams that there is something more to the universe than an unfortunate accident in a vacuum of uncaring nothingness.

When I listened to music encouraging its audience to live, when I listened to people fight for the lives of those they love, when i watched the sun set, or cried at the end of a deeply touching movie, I would think, “In light of this how can you say there is no God?”

In Christianity I found answers that profoundly satisfied my deepest questions.

There is a universe because God in his wisdom fashioned it to be a beautiful gift. There is morality because we stand in the midst of a cosmic battle between good and evil. There is love because God’s nature is perfectly loving and the fabric of the knowable universe was woven in his loving kindness. There is beauty and goodness because life wasn’t created to be a void and an unknowable miserable darkness.

The true issue with atheism is that while intellectually and technically feasible, it gives empty answers to facets of life that do not have empty realities.

It forced me to ask myself this question: How can such a beautiful, meaningful, tragic world exist from nothing and for nothing?”

#rape tw #rape #griefjourney #grief tw #long post #i specify philosophical morality because atheists by and large dont actually think like this but at an academic level this is how the logic #ends up working out

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letstalkaboutshtufff · 4 years

Text

Jon Snow x reader

Pairing: Jon Snow x young reader (platonic)

Summary: reader is a captured wilding and is forced to be Jon's steward. Shes tough and stubborn but one day something happens and her feelings for the crow begin to change.

Warnings: Swearing, violence, attempted assault, mentions of rape. Mentions of blood.

***************************************************

A/n Hello my loves! Just a quick note about this story. Reader is a young teenager, also her relationship with Jon is non romantic. Hes protective of her like a brother. I hope you like it!

***************************************************

"Whats your name girl?" you wanted to roll your eyes but refrained as the new commander of the nights watch, barely a man in your opinion tried to be intimidating in a room full of equally unintimatading men.

As dumb as they looked they still outnumbered you like 100 to 1. So you begrudgingly decided to answer.

"Y/n"

The lord commander, or more commonly known as Jon snow the bastard of winterfell, nodded once, satisfied that he finally gotten a word out of you.

"Well y/n, seeing as your people are gone-"

"Dead you mean" you couldn't help but bite out. "You crows saw to that"

Those damn crows had raided your village and slaughtered everyone save yourself.

"You're lucky we didn't gut you along with the rest of those filthy wildlings" one man spat out stepping forward but was halted by the commander, "Enough!"

"We had no choice, they trespassed and started to cause trouble-"

"Trespassed?! That land has been ours for generations, and just because some rich folk came and decided to put up a wall and cast us out, we're the criminals?!" You felt your anger rise again. "We didnt do anything wrong! We were just trying to survive like everyone else in this stupid godsforsaken world!"

The lord commander sighed with fustration, he tried to have patience, after all she was more or less a child. Well a child with the mouth of a 40 year old sailor.

"I'm sorry y/n, but there are rules, and they broke those rules"

"Rules?" You scoffed, "And who decided on those rules hmm? Certainly not the people who lived here, so tell me Snow, why the hell should any of us listen to rules that were forced on us?! In our eyes you are the enemy. We were just people, trying to not starve and freeze to fucking death and you slaughter us like animals!" You felt the burn behind your eyes as you remembered the screams and smell of blood. But you would die before you cried in front of these heartless butchers.

"I'm sorry that you had to witness it, but you have a choice to make now" he looked into your eyes with seriousness. "You can either be sent back beyond the wall or..." he paused hesitantly, "you can serve as a steward here"

You almost laughed, "Are you drunk Snow?!? Or do you actually think those are fair options?"

"Considering I'm already bending the rules by letting you live, yes I do" he said firmly.

You let out a humorless laugh, "So you think throwing me into the wilderness alone is fair? Or I suppose making me a slave to the nights watch is somehow better?" You glared at the men around you. Half of them fithly pigs who would no doubt use you whenever they got the chance.

"No harm would come to you if you stayed, of this you have my word. And you wouldn't be a slave. You'd be my steward."

But I wouldnt be allowed to leave, so a slave... but it's either that or what's beyond the wall.. I wouldn't last a day alone... after a while of silently debating I looked up into the killer's eyes, and sealed my fate with a nod.

************************************

The first week was hell. All you wanted to do was murder every crow you saw.

If you had poison you would've wasted no time spilling it in the stew you had to carry to commander stupids room every evening.

He acted like he cared, asked about if you had enough to eat and if anyone had been bothering you. But you ignored him. He was just trying to get you to trust him, and then he would turn on you. It was all a sick game, you were sure of it.

Another few weeks passed in a similar manner, he gave up on trying to make conversation which you were ever thankful for.

Not having anyone to talk to was the worst part. Your days were horribly dull. You cleaned, did laundry, prepped meals and repeat. Other than glares no one had messed with you which you were kinda disappointed in to be honest. You would take any excuse to blacken and bruise those ugly mugs of theirs...

Apparently the gods had a sense of humor because the next day you found yourself cornered by two of them.

"You should be on your knees thanking us girl" one of them sneered.

"We coulda left you for dead with those other savages but we didnt. And all you've been is given attitude."

"It ain't right"

"No it ain't" they agreed.

While they yapped you were mentally figuring out how you were gonna fight your way out of this one. Three against one wasnt exactly fair, and it's not like snow let you carry around your weapons. And the fact that you were far away, gathering firewood when they cornered you wasn't ideal.

Ugly man number one tsked when he saw your wandering eyes, "no use screamin girl, no ones gonna hear you"

"What the fuck do you want, the sooner you tell me, the sooner I dont have to look at your ugly faces" you couldn't help but want to anger them.

The bald one shoved your shoulder against the wall, on instinct you swooped your arm over his and brought it down, severing the hold and then you kneed him in the groin...hard.

"You bitch!" He faltered and you took that opportunity to try and get away. Ugly number 2 grabbed the cloth of your shirt and pulled back but you quickly shoved an elbow hard into his face.

While you were distracted, the third man, let's call him horse face, pulled your hair harshly until you were tumbling to the ground with a grunt.

It didnt take long for the other 2 to recover and help horse face pin you down. P

A deep rooted panic spread across your body. "Get the fuck off me!" You tried to hide the fear in your voice as you thrashed.

"Shut up wilding whore!" You heard the sharp smack before you felt the pain blossom against your cheek.

"You got the mouth of a slut, now let's see if you've got the body of one" your eyes widened and you felt a rough hand slide under your tunic.

"S-stop it! I swear I'll kill-" he shut you up with another sharp slap. You could now taste copper in your mouth.

"I swear to God if you say one more word I'll cut out that sharp tongue of yours" he pulled his knife out of its sheath and pressed the cold metal against your cheek. You winced as he pressed in and you knew he had broken skin.

You tried to be strong but you were terrified. These men were going to rape you and you didnt have the strength like you thought you did to stop them.

You closed your eyes praying to whatever gods were out there that this would not happen. But the gods were cruel. They had allowed the crows to wipe out the only people you had to call family. No they weren't yours by blood, but they had taken you in and cared for you. Taught you how to hunt, how to fight, and now this is how your life was going to end.

"That's a good girl" he took your silence as compliance and started to kiss down your neck.

You shivered in disgust and fear, one hand placed firmly on your neck keeping you in place and the other was exploring beneath your shirt.

You didnt want to give up, you wanted to fight. You didnt want to be raped and killed. How would you ever face your family in the after life if you didnt put up a decent fight. Taking a deep breathe , with the risk of losing your tongue looming in your mind, you clenched your fists and let out your last shred of hope,

"GHOOOOOST" you hoped the wolf you had come to befriend could hear through the walls.

"WHAT DID I FUCKING TELL YOU" he clamped a crushing hand over your mouth.

"W-we should g-go, what if that mutt heard?" Horse face looked around nervously.

"Shut up Pud, no way that he can hear all the way in here"

"But-"

"Oh for god sakes, hold her down and be quiet!" He motioned for horse face to clamp my mouth shut instead whilst he began unbuckling his trousers.

"Before I cut that pretty tongue of yours, I'm gonna see how it feels around my c-AHH FUCK" a giant streak of white crossed your vision.

"HELP YOU IDIOTS, DONT JUST STAND THERE, FUCK!" You heard growling and tearing sounds.

The mens hold on you immediately loosened and you took that chance to sit up and see what the hell was going on. And when you saw the familiar white fur and black eyes you almost cried in relief.

Ghost had launched himself at your assailant and was currently biting away at his arm. The other two turned tail quick and made for the door, thinking they could escape, but what they did not expect was a very angry lord commander blocking their way.

"Ghost" he called back his wolf who growled at the men before walking back and standing beside his master.

You couldn't tell whose eyes were more threatening, the wolf, or the bastard wolf..

Before you knew what was happening several crows flooded the room and arrested the bleeding man and his friends.

The commanders attention was now on you. You rolled onto you knees and tried to stand up but found that someone had traded your legs for jelly cakes.

"Y/n" you immediately looked down, not wanting him to see how afraid you were.

You were surprised at how soft the commanders voice was now compared to two seconds ago when he ordered they be taken to the prisons. "Are you alright?" He knelt down in front of you and reached a hand out to your face.

You flinched and he hesitantly pulled back, "Its alright now, your safe, please... let me help you" he said almost pleading.

You don't know what came over you but something was telling you that it was ok to trust him so you nodded.

This time when he reached a hand to lift your face up you didnt pull away.

You met his eyes and found anger and regret in them, "I'm sorry"

You were instantly confused, "For what?" You questioned as he continued to inspect your injuries.

"I said that no harm would come to you, I shouldve kept a closer eye on you" he apologized with a look of deep regret.

You didnt know what to say. Why was he being so nice to you?! It didnt make any sense, weren't the crows supposed to be the bad ones? But he saved you...well ghost did lead them to you so you really should be thanking him but...

You didnt really know how to respond so you just stayed quiet. He moved to help you up, gentle hands supporting you. When it was clear you couldn't stand on your own he asked if you would let him help you to maester aemon.

Reluctantly you nodded and was surprised when he swooped down and gently lifted you up like those dumb princesses you heard about in fairy tales.

You thought he was just gonna help you walk with a slung over arm or something.... if you weren't so exausted you probably would've been way more embarrassed.

Wordlessly he carried you through the halls and into Maester Aemons infirmary. He set you down on the bed with care and said he would be back to check on you later. The maester was already by your side examining your injuries.

You dont know what came over you, but before you knew what was happening your mouth opened and halted the lord commander through the door.

"Thank you snow..." you were glad he was facing the door, you were sure your face was bright red.

But if he had been facing you, you would've seen his smile.

Maybe not all the crows were so bad after all...

********

Ok soo it was kind of short I know, but my idea was for this to be a sort of prologue to a mini series of Jon and the reader. Please let me know if that's something you guys would want! Thanks for reading🥰

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girlmounter · 3 years

Text

URGENT QUESTION TO ALL MY FOLLOWERS, I NEED YOUR FEEBACK!

Okay so here's the situation. I am asking you all to please please read this through and like, maybe tell me if I made the right decision... because I feel terrible about this. I would love it if someone told me if this is correct or wrong and I should've done something else. I'm not a popular blog, so whoever this post might reach (which is not going to be a lot of people) please please take some time out to read this through. I know it's a really long post, but I really really need your opinion on this. If you don't have the time right now, maybe just reblog it and save it for later. It would also help this post reach more people. Also please check the tags for the trigger warnings.

I have been going to a therapist for about 5 months now. My mom, as you probably know by now, is narcissistic and my dad enables her, along with my mom's parents who we live with. I have no siblings, and I just turned 17. Since we live in Asia, all you desi people know how hard society is on us when we go against our parents, who are supposed to be godly figures.

So all along, my therapist, (for confidentiality's sake we'll call him Sam, 21), has been bent on making me talk to them. I dont know why. I've tried explaining so many times that talking to my mom is not an option because 1) NARCISSISTIC PEOPLE DON'T EVER CHANGE and 2) my mom WILL use all my words against me and twist them into whatever she wants and later bring them up to bring me down. You guys with narcissistic parents know this shit too well.

It's not like I haven't ever even tried talking to them, I have! I've done it so many times, with a calm tone, in the most diplomatic way possible. There were times I tried to get the point across by crying and being desperate too. There were also times where I thought anger might work out.

It never did. It doesn't. It won't, because she is not looking for solutions or for mending the bond between us. All she wants is to infantilize me and keep me under her control forever. Mom and dad both want this. They don't ever want to let me out of their sights. They don't let me out of their sights.

A very long story short, I am supervised 24/7, I don't have much of a phone, I don't have friends, I don't have any family members who would support me, I don't have much of a family either tbh. I am monitored like crazy, gaslighted every single day, lied to, manipulated like hell, and babied to the point where it's just narcissistic infantilization and not concern anymore. To them, I'm a baby when it suits them, and I'm an adult when it suits them better that way. She doesn't care about what I think because apparently I'm a liar and to all those people out there who know the smear campaigning and the flying monkeys and the triangulation....yeah. All of that happens on a regular basis. I know I'm not providing any concrete proof and situations but please believe me. Please believe me. My memory is so shot I can't remember anything and i know it doesn't work out in my favor but please please believe me I'm telling the truth...

I have made three suicide attempts, I used to cut and was very badly addicted to it, and now I don't cut, but yeah I'll be sharing the reason in a little bit. Please hold on, this means a huge deal to me. Please don't scroll past this.

So Sam never really even had a smidge of doubt that my mom might be narcissistic, and I wasn't given the benefit of doubt either. After months of research when I myself figured that it might be narcissism, I told him and he went along with it. He does believe me now. But somehow I don't feel very understood. I dont feel better after I talk to him. I feel like my problems are trivial and that I'm just not working hard enough. I feel misunderstood and I never feel satisfied. I asked him for tips to deal with crushing loneliness and panic attacks and stuff like that, but I never receive real answers. When I asked for help with my suicidal thoughts, he just said that it's never an option and that's it. That's the only answer I got. When I asked for help with cutting, the only answer I got was that if I even tried to cut again, I'd lose him.

Like. Is that really how therapy is supposed to work?

Half of the time we just while time away, talking as if we're friends and I mean, it's a paid session. We're not very financially well off right now, what with the pandemic and everything, and we're paying him 2000 INR a week. It's a lot for us because we ain't exactly rich. That's like 10,000 INR a month.

I try to talk, I'm told that I don't stop talking and don't let him speak. When I don't speak, I'm not speaking enough. I dont feel comfortable anymore in a way that I think I should be with a therapist. I have recieved more helpful advice from actual PhD psychologists who are making videos on dealing with narcissism on YouTube. I feel more understood by them than I ever have with him. So many times I have left the session crying and hours later I'd still be stifling tears. So many times I don't feel heard and I feel like if I told him something he'd be angry. Sometimes he snaps and is like way too straightforward and it just doesn't do well with me. He doesn't support a lot of stuff that I support, like anti body shaming, especially for overweight people and stuff like LGBTQIA+ too, really. I'm mocked in an underhand way if I express that I support stuff that he doesn't really like. It's not straightforward but... I can't shake the feeling.

I do sometimes look forward to the sessions, if only because I'll have someone to talk to...but that's pretty much it. I'm not getting anything out of this. He claims that no one will understand me the way he does, and he keeps comparing my life to his, which I don't like. He says that in a way he and I both very similar and he relates to me and then proceeds to tell me about events in his life. He says that I'm his favorite client and now a good friend too, but I feel like that's not how it should be. And I do make an effort to listen to him tell me stuff about his life but...shouldn't it be the other way round?

Now I'm not saying that he is a bad person. I have loads of my own issues too; severe depression, crippling anxiety, overthinking every freaking thing, I'm like 100% sure I have complex PTSD from this childhood trauma, constant pain everywhere, crazy headaches, flashbacks, nightmares, hallucinations sometimes, and major emotion repression. I'm dealing with a million and one things right now and yes that might be causing me to feel worse about this situation than I should. I admit that I'm not exactly thinking about this in a diplomatic way...but somehow it doesn't feel right, and hence this really long post.

If you're still here, thank you so much. Your reading this is doing something that means a lot to me. Truly.

He exercises a lot, and he gave me a whole schedule to follow with the meals I should eat and the exercise I should do and somehow I never feel like I'm doing enough. If I miss out I can't tell him because he always reprimands me for messing up. I dont feel comfortable about opening up and then he forces me to do that and then when I do I don't feel better.

Lately, we'd been talking about how I need to tell my parents to their face what I feel is wrong with their actions, and how without that happening there's no point to our sessions anymore. Straight up went that if I don't talk to them on this Sunday, then we're not going to have sessions anymore.

I tried explaining to him many times how my mom will never change, how I don't want to enrage them further, how I don't want to give her more information on my life that she can use against me again...but no use.

He insisted over and over again on how she has no idea what she's doing to me, and if we just talked it out, my whole situation will be fine. This is just a huge misunderstanding.

I tried so hard to make him understand that that's not how it works for her, she doesn't want to resolve things and she'll just jump at the first chance she gets to use all my information against me, but no. I tried telling him that I have talked to her before and that I also used to think that if I just told her what they were doing wrong, then they would understand and mend their ways, I mean it took me YEARS to convince myself that it was never gonna happen! I tried it so many times and everytime I fell for this trap and everytime I regretted it but he doesn't get that! At all! That they're never gonna change!

Instead of helping me get over them, instead of telling me how to move on, instead of helping me grieve over my entire childhood... he was forcing me to talk things out with them, because if I didn't tell them I would be keeping it inside me and letting that fester would be bad.

I agree that it's not healthy for me to keep things to myself, which is why I talked to him right? And the things which are troubling me cannot be resolved with them because they refuse to change their ways!

The only thing that would come out of that family discussion is me at a disadvantage and them at an advantage by having all the latest scoop on my life and then have my mom (who is a doctor who has also done a course on CBT) psychoanalyse me even more than she does now. I'd be tailed harder. It will get worse and I know it. I've seen it and I promised myself that I would never make the same mistake of opening up to them honestly ever again. And here Sam wanted me to that very thing.

And I agreed initially, I tried convincing myself that maybe it'll work out and after all, Sam will be defending me and everything (even though he did say he would support them if he found them correct) but I didn't feel good about it. I remembered that a therapist is supposed to make you feel more at ease and let you take your own time to process through things and never force a client to do something if they had doubts about it.

And so I texted him today, and I refused. He said we won't have any more sessions, but I said it's fine. Because I don't want to go to him anymore anyway. I think I would rather have no one to talk to, than have someone belittle my experiences and just overall make me feel worse than I did when I first entered the session.

There's more stuff that was related to this, and if you guys want to know something before making your judgement of this situation, please please please ask me, message me, but please just have a bird's eye view on this whole thing and tell me if I made the right decision...please.

I would really appreciate some feedback right now.

Thank you so,so much for sticking with me till the end of this post. It means the world to me, honestly. I couldn't thank you more.

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