#and I figured a meaningless place being touched by meaning would | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

hijackalx · 1 year ago

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GHOST +18

SUMMARY: Gortash helps you remember what your relationship with him was like.

WORD COUNT: 4000

UNDER THE CUT: F!reader, good dark urge reader, hard dom gortash, degradation, praise kink, spanking, daddy kink, sadism and masochism, SLIGHT NONCON, some angst at the end

You watch as the crowd disperses, chattering amongst themselves. The once quiet hall becomes an echo chamber for indiscernible voices; you quickly begin to search for an escape before the socializing gives you a headache.

The coronation wasn't worth your time. You didn't even get to speak to Gortash before he disappeared into the sea of people, and your chances of finding him now are slim.

You needed so badly to speak to him about the situation at hand; you hoped he'd be willing to come to a compromise. There's little desire for conflict in your veins— is it bad to admit that sometimes you wish this weight was bestowed upon someone more combative?

You push through bodies, interrupting minglers and meaningless conversations. "Oh, I'm so wealthy!' 'Yes, yes, me as well!" you mock them under your breath, putting on your most haughty persona. The topics that enthrall patriars never quite intrigued you.

As far as you can remember, at least.

You knock shoulders with one of them, though you remain in character. "My deepest apologies, good sir," your voice comes out nasally, your nose held high with a level of snootiness.

Their hand graces your upper arm, each finger laced coldly with steel. It's not a dismissing touch, but a grab. It wraps around your bicep, holding you in place. Your body tenses, shoulders shooting upright— perhaps your impression was a bit too insulting.

"U-uh—" you laugh nervously while your eyes follow their way up to their face. Your heartbeat stutters in your chest, a stillness overcoming you like a startled rabbit.

A man stands before you; his eyes sunken, his hair cut haphazardly, his skin tanned and scarred. You know who this is.

"You," his deep voice finds you through the noise. "I've been looking for you. For a moment, I was worried that you’d left." he doesn't release you, as if he's afraid to lose you again.

"Gortash," you mutter, your gaze darting over his features. "I... was looking for you as well, actually." you're totally and utterly surprised by the fact he even acknowledged you, let alone had been seeking you out.

"Enver," he speaks, and you don't quite understand what he means until you notice the playful raise in his brow; he's correcting you. How... informal of him to suggest you call him by his first name.

He finally removes his grip from your arm. A gentle grin pulls at his lips, and he seems to try to hide it behind the wine in his glass. There's a beat of silence, and during it you catch his eyes not-so-subtly gracing over your figure. "Your dress is lovely," is all he says, and you suddenly feel that your garment is too revealing.

Your arm lays over your stomach and fastens to the other, as if that would some how barricade you from his scrutinizing gaze. So, the Archduke is a bit of a pervert— not something you expected, but something you can deal with, nonetheless.

"I, um— listen—" you begin, yet struggle to pull your thoughts together in the chaos. "Is there... somewhere else... we could talk?"

His eyes suddenly appear more lively, though there's something else inside them that you can't quite place. "Of course." he places his glass down on a nearby waiter's tray. You're shocked as he places a palm towards the middle of your back, making contact with the bare skin through the window of your dress. He guides you out of the crowd, and you're amazed at how easily he wades through it as his obstacles yield to him.

He takes you toward a dark, spiral staircase. You're not sure if he's being polite when he insists you go ahead or if he's attempting to peek up your dress, and you try not to think about it.

Once you reach the top, your body is caressed by the cool, night air. You stop in your tracks, amazed at how the city glows in the dark. You can hear the sounds of the bustling streets, and the faint hum of the gathering downstairs.

"Magnificent, isn't it?" Enver's voice appears behind you and you flinch. You'd forgotten he was there. "As are many things that bend so pliantly to my will."

You turn around to meet his eyes, how they look up at you from under his brow, steady and ravenous. There's a pit that opens up in your stomach— his plans are sinister, and you need the upcoming conversation to be enough to stop them.

Suddenly, you're attacked by a barrage of self-doubt. What a heavy task for someone as measly as you.

The wind blows through the both of you, pulling at your hair and clothing as if saying to stop stalling. Your eyes flit to the ground once before allowing him to lead you further.

He opens another door for you, this one leading to what you believe is an office. Your bodies are bathed in the warm candlelight as you enter. You approach the long, many-seated table in the immediate vicinity as the sound of him closing the large doors fills the chamber.

You observe the architecture, feeling a sense of awe at being in the presence of such expensive tastes. Enver walks around you, heading to a compartment holding many different kinds of liquor. "I keep the good stuff in here," he comments, the bottle in his grasp clinking against the others as it's removed. "Although, I rarely have the pleasure of sharing it with guests as enchanting as yourself."

His words seem to carry an implication of familiarity. You turn to him with a raised brow. "You know why I'm here?" Your mind flits back to earlier— you remember him saying something about looking for you as well.

With a still hand he pours the cinnamon-colored liquid into both of your glasses. He doesn't look up as he responds, "Do you really believe me to be so dull?" he lets out a small laugh, placing the cork back into the bottle. "Besides, my intuition tells me we both want the same thing."

"... We do?" you mutter in disbelief. Had you been wrong about him? Is he really willing to hear you out so easily?

He hands you your glass. "We do." he raises his drink to you as if to toast, then brings it to his mouth. As he lets the drink disappear down his throat, his eyes remain on yours. This time, you feel that you may be able to trust whatever is behind them.

You join him with a small sip, and there is a short moment shared between you two. You notice just how close he's standing to you, but for some reason you don't step away. Your gaze falters from his own, shakily sneaking a glance at his lips, then his neck, and his exposed chest...

You stop there, quickly darting your pupils back upwards. You notice him still staring, and you wonder if perhaps your eyes explored just a bit too much.

Flustered, you turn around and place your palms on the table. "I—I'm sorry, this is just... a bit much for me." you try to compose yourself, feeling the start of your proposal bubbling to the surface. With a sigh, you begin, "Gor— Enver, I wanted to discuss the future of—"

You can't get any more words out— not even a sound. Your eyes widen, your temperature rising throughout your entire body like a surging wildfire. The only thing you can focus on is his lips on your neck and his body pressed against yours as he pins your hands to the tabletop.

Your breath quivers, heart in your throat. What is happening?

His mouth begins making its way downwards. You shiver out of your frozen state. With a swift, freeing elbow to his ribcage, you turn and shove him away from you.

He stumbles backward, the emotions on his face cycling too quickly for you to make something of it. Eventually, anger is the one that settles and stays. "What in the hells is the matter with you?!"

Your hand grips the glass on the table tightly, ready to use it as a weapon if you must. "I— what's the matter with me?! You just came onto me! I don't even know you!"

"What else did you expect, you little—" A crease forms between his brows. "... You don't know who I am?" his voice appears more softly, harboring confusion.

"Well, yes, you are the Archduke— but you know what I mean! Y-you don't just walk up to any stranger with their back turned and start kissing their neck!"

He glances away for a moment, shoulders relaxing as he finds the answers he's seeking inside the night’s prior instances. "You and I are hardly strangers, my dear."

You go quiet.

No— your memory can't have failed you again, not here. Not with him. You'd remember, surely you would.

With an inquiring grin, he approaches you slowly. "So it’s true. How curious." he studies you as if you're a freshly discovered specimen. "If you don't remember what we were, do you even remember what you are?"

His words rattle you to your core. To imply that your relationship with him was so deeply intertwined with who you once were— it almost makes you sick.

"You're lying," you respond quickly, regardless of whether you think he is or not. You won't accept otherwise.

"Am I?" he stops mere inches from your face, as if to allow you to see the truth through his eyes. They delve into yours, carrying an intensity that yours lack, a confidence that you wish wasn't there.

He hums. "Allow me to jog your memory." with a deep inhale, he opts to press his lips against yours. Your trembling body leans into the table behind you, backing further and further away from him until you can't anymore. He kisses you, and for some reason, you let him. You don't make any extravagant attempts to rid yourself of him— instead, you allow him to have you, as if on instinct.

The kiss lasts a few seconds, and he lingers for a moment before pulling away. You feel an emptiness on your lips, your fingertips leaving the glass at your side to reach up and gently inspect the area.

"First, we were accomplices. You, a chosen of Bhaal; I, a chosen of Bane,” he looks you directly in the face as he speaks, making sure you’re listening intently. “After so much time together, we took an interest in each other, particularly each other's bodies," he explains, "We were so young and knew so little— but we learned from each other. Experimented with each other—"

You shift underneath where he has you trapped against the table. You sink into yourself, your chin tucking down in shame. You're not sure how you feel about all of this, but you do know that there's a growing warmth between your thighs.

Even if your mind fails to remember what you two did together, your body knows.

His head tilts so that he speaks into your ear. "And, Gods, the things you'd let me do to you," as if reliving the memory, he almost moans, the lilt to his tone making your stomach lurch.

”N-no…” you mumble, though there is little substance behind the word.

He lowers himself, his mouth hovering over your neck once again. His breaths fan your sensitive skin before pressing his lips to it.

You twitch, your hand involuntarily coming up to rest in his hair. He hears how your breath hitches, and you feel him smile against you as he sucks softly.

His restless hand finds itself on your thigh, slipping into the slit of your dress. The cold material of his gauntlets raises goose bumps on your skin, your muscles tensing every time he reaches just inches from your core.

He pulls his lips from you with a pop, slightly breathless.

"It became an addiction. We'd meet up at every opportunity— almost every night just to fuck," he says with enough emphasis to make you realize just how filthy your past together was. “Hells, I even remember asking you what your father thought of his prized offspring becoming my personal little whore."

You burn hot with embarrassment, though some part of you likes the name he's given you. "... a- and?" you hate yourself for playing into whatever this is, but you can't help it. You want him to keep talking.

He laughs, "you said you didn't give a shit. Can you imagine that? Daddy's little girl willing to sacrifice everything just so she wouldn't have to go a day without me fucking her into the mattress.” he gives you a lift onto the table, both of his hands roughly pulling your thighs apart so he can place himself between them.

As if acting on its own, you fail to notice how your body arches into him, begging for his touch. "Enver..." you moan quietly, the sensation feeling so familiar on your tongue. The memories he describes to you seem so real yet so distant. You want to remember them, to experience them.

His chest rises and falls quicker by the minute. As his hand comes up to direct you by your jaw, the gold points on his fingertips leave indents in your skin. "You have no idea how elated I was to get news of your reappearance. I don't have words to explain how badly I've missed you— your body."

Unable to compose himself any longer, he finally stops teasing and slams his mouth into yours. He's aggressive and rough; the biting, smacking your teeth together kind of rough. You struggle to keep up with him, balancing yourself with an arm over his shoulders until he pushes you onto your back. Impatiently, he rips his sharp gauntlets from his hands, the objects landing somewhere on the floor with a clatter.

He runs his bare hands over the curves of your body, taking in the sight as if it's the first time. You lift your back as he reaches for the zipper of your dress, his adrenaline-ridden fingers fumbling before undoing it successfully. You help him wriggle yourself out of it.

The cold air hits your exposed breasts, your nipples erect and sensitive. His calloused thumb brushes over one before he tightly squeezes your tit, an obvious attempt to hear your voice. He's delighted when you gasp in both pain and pleasure, his mouth meeting yours to devour the sound. He then quickly trails down your neck to pepper kisses over your chest.

He takes one of your nipples into his mouth, purposefully grazing it with his teeth before soothing it with his tongue. Your hand tangles in his messy hair, lifting yourself into him.

His opposite hand sneaks into your panties, toying with your clit in a cruel fashion. He pinches and teases, refusing to give you what you want. Frustrated, you reach down to move his hand out of the way, to which he grabs and restrains. You try the same with the other, and he repeats.

"Insubordinate little slut," he mumbles under his breath as he pushes his knee between your legs, providing pressure but no friction. "You want to do it yourself?" he says meanly, slightly irritated by your actions.

You immediately begin rubbing against his thigh, finally feeling some relief. You exhale, feeling waves of pleasure course through you.

He peers down between your bodies to watch, his erection prominent in his pants. "Fuck, that's right. Show me how badly you need it."

Your hips eventually start to stutter, unable to continue as you lose yourself in the sensation. "I- I can't," you whine, unsatisfied as you fail to keep your rhythm.

He smiles sadistically at how you struggle. "Oh, you can't?" he pouts mockingly. "Poor thing."

You know what he wants, it sits in the back of your mind, ready without second thought. You've been here before. "P-please,” you choke out. "Please, I need you. Fuck me, please," your voice comes out pathetically, happy to continue begging until you get what you desire.

As if on cue, he flips you onto your stomach, your ass stuck in the air and your cheek pressed to the hardwood. He takes your arm and folds it behind your back, holding you in place. "You say that like I was going to give you a choice." You see how he leers down at you through the corner of your eye, a wolfish look on his features. You don't know how much truth there is to his words, but your pussy flutters anyway.

He runs a finger over your folds, the friction from your underwear making you jump. You whimper his name, completely at his mercy. With a huff, he rips your panties off of you, splitting the delicate fabric in half.

Pausing for a moment, he admires the glistening wetness between your thighs. He kicks your feet apart further to spread you open, using his finger to circle your clit before covering the digit in your essence. You watch as he sticks it in his mouth, cleaning it off with his tongue. He lets out a content sigh, savoring the taste.

You whine while deepening the arch in your back, presenting yourself to him further.

His brows furrow. Picking up your torn panties, he wads them up and shoves them in your mouth. It extends your jaw fully, making it impossible to spit them out. "Shut up," he growls. "You'll get what you want when I feel like giving it to you."

You can taste yourself on the ripped garment, feel how wet you are with your tongue. Your saliva begins to dampen it by the second, and it’s only a matter of time before it drips past the barrier.

The sound of him disrobing fills the air. Your irises roll back behind corkscrewed eyelids, anticipating what is to come with little patience.

The gag muffles your sounds as you feel his length drag between your thighs, parting your puffy folds. Your hole contracts spastically, desperate for him.

Then, he slams into you without warning. You scream, writhing beneath him as his dick forcibly stretches you out. The pain is almost unbearable as you feel tears start to materialize.

He balances himself on the table with his free hand, letting out a long, shuddering breath. "Fuck." He takes a moment before moving. There is no slow build-up, his pace is aggressive and hard from the very start. He fucks you like he absolutely hates you, and you suppose it's possible that he does. If what he says is true, then you abandoned him. Not on purpose, but you still did.

His cock moves in a shoveling motion, hitting your G-spot with every thrust. You send your body back to him every time he reenters you, rocking in sync. It feels natural— it feels good. As you adjust, you realize that you fit together perfectly; two puzzle pieces that were never meant to be apart. Suddenly, his dependence on you makes so much more sense.

You gasp as he grabs a fistful of your hair, roughly pulling your head upward. He holds you there uncomfortably as he speaks into your ear, "if you ever leave me again," he pauses to catch his breath, "I'll fucking kill you. Do you understand?"

Nodding your head is not enough for him. He rips your underwear from your mouth. "yes, what?"

Your breathing is ragged and high-pitched as you're finally allowed to use your mouth again. "Yes, daddy!" you assume that must be what he made you call him before, based on how it forces its way past your teeth. You're sure he gets some kind of power-trip from it, perhaps he's envious of your previous devotion to your father.

“It seems you remember more than I thought.” he uses his thumb to wipe the drool from your swollen lip, then massages the spot where he yanked your hair. "Good. You're doing so good."

His unexpected praise makes your pussy tighten around him, milking him, begging for him to come.

He lets out a deep, throaty moan. "Gods, you feel fucking amazing." his palm makes contact with your ass, a sharp smack echoing through the tall ceilings of the office. You yelp, your fingernails clawing at the tabletop. You can feel the hand-shaped welt forming right away, the stinging sensation rising to the top of your skin. "You like how daddy fucks you?"

He asks just as you feel yourself reaching your climax. It builds in your lower stomach, bubbling in your chest. "Y-yes!" you cry. "Please don't stop! Just like that!"

Cruel man that he is, he does the exact opposite of what you ask. He stops, pulling out of you and leaving you feeling empty. Ushering you up, he switches places with you and grabs you by your wrist, guiding you onto his lap.

He looks at you through his brow, cheeks flushed, breaths erratic, yet with a smirk playing at his lips. "Work for it," he orders, holding himself up with his palms on the tabletop.

As you lower yourself onto his length, he watches you intently, brushing your unruly hair out of your face. Your cheek is red and swollen from being pressed into the table, and he gives it a few condescending pats. "You look a mess, dearest," he laughs.

You ignore him, focused on taking him in. You do it slower than he did, but he remains patient for you. You suppose that's his act of kindness for the day.

Balancing on your knees, you start bouncing in his lap. Your hands hold onto his shoulders, watching how he slides in and out of you. A creamy, white liquid has been created between the two of you, coating his shaft and your entrance.

His attention remains on your face— sometimes shifting to your tits, but mostly your face. You eventually notice, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his gaze. Placing a hand to the back of your head, he pulls you in for a kiss. You cup his face with your palms, whimpering into his mouth as his tongue grazes the inside of your teeth.

He breaks the kiss along with a line of saliva. His nose finds the crook of your neck, resting there as he pulls your bodies flush together. Your arms rest over his broad shoulders, occasionally digging your nails into his skin. He seems at peace with you in his grasp, holding you near. It’s in this moment that you truly feel just how much he missed you, worried for you, yearned for you. You realize that your relationship may have been more than just sex to him, even if not officially so.

He lets out a broken groan as he reaches his climax. His grip becomes almost painfully tight, taking your waist into his strong arms to fuck you again as he releases a thick load of cum inside you. The warm substance coats your walls as you tense around him.

His orgasm encourages your own. Squirming in his grasp, you throw your head back. You never imagined yourself crying out a series of his name, but here you are, and you never imagined it would be so sweet on your tongue. He keeps you in place with his hands on your hips, helping you ride it out.

You rest your weary body on his, your cheek against the sticky skin of his shoulder. Although, you don’t rest easy. There’s a heaviness to your heart, a guilt.

You can’t be the woman he knew— you’ve changed. The things you want are no longer the same, and you’ll betray him without even meaning to. He’s in love with a ghost, one that you just can’t pretend to be.

In the end, you’re in each other’s way, and you always will be. Whatever is between you two is an obstacle, and it’s destined to be destroyed.

#enver gortash #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #enver gortash x dark urge #dark urge #durgetash #enver gortash x reader #enver gortash x tav #gortash

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mbti-notes · 28 days ago

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Anon wrote: Hello mbti-notes. Hope you are doing well and thank you for all your work as always. I am the INFJ from post 642303487006359552. Sorry for asking yet again; I just believe I’m wasting a lot of time trying to figure this out by myself and would appreciate if you have any ideas or pointers.

In the post I mentioned above you pinpointed how I struggled with unhealthy Ni, unreasonable expectations, and lack of patience / emotional intelligence. Your analysis was spot-on, and I come to relate to it increasingly as I go through life, but my progress on these issues has been slow when looking from bird-eye’s view. I think my understanding of them is rather detached / intellectualized and hindered by me being unable to rely on external advice or guidance effectively.

I probably “intellectualize” a lot generally as I rely a lot on external advice, self-help, researching, psychology, etc. to figure out my problems. I don’t know if this is inherently a bad thing—if I hadn’t found many of psychology’s ideas I definitely would hardly be in a good place. However, every time I do this, I feel guilty or afraid that I’m navel gazing, and uncertain whether I actually am. If I don’t do this, however, I feel intractably stuck. Most of the progress I’ve made relied on my own ‘pure’ judgment in some form, but when I continue to tap into it I start becoming delusional or something, and even more stuck. I will detail my problem now and how this happens when I try to work on it.

I have been trying to be more patient, more resilient, and gain awareness of the thought processes that lead to disappointment. On the way, I realized that one of my major problems was immense frustration whenever something ‘went wrong’. I think this is very related to Ti loop and Se grip. If something doesn’t ‘make sense’ to me or if I don’t know what it means for me—such as someone’s mean comments, negative intentions; what makes certain tasks or activities purposeful; whether I’m choosing a good direction in life—I don’t feel my life (presently) is ‘meaningful’ anymore, that my ‘good’ actions are meaningless things that I am ‘forced’ to do to be well-adjusted. I feel an urge to escape from the situation and move into nihilism, perhaps narrowing my point of attention to a very small point so that I don’t have to think about it all. I want to forget about all of the mess. My unrealistic expectations perhaps pile up when I do this.

For example it so happens that I have poor social skills that often leads people to reject me. Of course, it is unreasonable to expect anyone to like me. But when I tell myself ‘it’s okay if people don’t like me’, my frustrations become extreme; I become provoked, implacable. “Why should it be the case that even if people reject me, they think I’m a bad person just for having emotional issues, make gross assumptions about my behavior, etc. etc.” I often resort to thinking those people are ‘shallow’. And it doesn’t help that in reality, I’m getting increasing amounts of evidence that even decent people can be very shallow. I guess it’s not my business and my interpretation is what matters—my judgmentalness here shows my own struggles. And if I’m being honest I’m rather OK with the rejection per se. What bothers me immensely is that the rejection was based on things that indicated that they were first of all looking out for their own comfort rather than mine, that they blindsided my unrealistic expectations of them. I feel exposed for being so out of touch.

But I’ve attempted to be more in touch with reality often, more realistic, but it doesn’t work. All I can think of telling myself is, ‘you should know that people are shallow’, which doesn’t seem realistic at all; it’s just a blanket statement. Or I tell myself, I should go out for your own enjoyment, not necessarily for genuine connection with others. Or even better that I should be more adaptable, chill, focused on mutual enjoyment. I’ve often gone out with these intentions and ended up being totally lost on what to do, acting even more awkward probably creeping people out. This ties back to that things ‘stop making sense’. Like I don’t understand what’s happening around me; I’m here for enjoyment or I’m trying to be adaptable, what does that mean? How does it tie to what matters to me? Sometimes I figure out in the moment why something matters to me practically and act pretty well, but it requires a lot of mental work and tying together all the complex factors quickly, and it happens rarely (though more frequently as I’ve made some sort of progress). It requires thinking of everything at once. And I’m slow when it comes to things like this. It doesn’t help that I feel very angry when I realize that my ‘slowness’ is the thing that’s leading people to misunderstand and judge me. It feels unfair… and then same thing with this, I try to figure out my unrealistic expectation that the world should be fair and reasonable and defuse it, but now it’s double complicated with the original thing.

Similarly I often struggle with figuring out how to find more meaning and purpose in life. I have many meaningful goals, like helping out my family, making progress in my career, learning good things, solving my emotional problems, building a social support system, becoming a better person. I don’t actively feel hopeless as long as I don’t touch on my blindspots too much. But when I try to grow more it comes crumbling down. Like I’ll become disappointed that I think so much about external rewards when it comes to my career. It is pretty clear that I want to be validated for the work I do and it often motivates me, I wonder if a bit too much. But instead of addressing this directly, my mind commonly becomes a mess noticing; I go on internal monologues about how it’s so unfair that I’ve to lose social validation and be judged if I did more meaningful work, or that the industry I work in suffers so many issues, on and on and on until I’ve formed a full internal narrative about how the world sucks.

Anyway, I suspect a window into this issue comes when I try to work on it. I’ll try to make mental models of when my emotions get triggered, what are the ‘underlying issues’ (emotional intelligence, denial, etc.), but if I don’t actively resist by feeling sleepy and detached, I become very frustrated, intellectualize, start reading psychology or researching abstract things like ‘how to solve emotional problems’ lol. I suspect I actually do it right a lot of the time, except with immense self-doubt that interferes with learning. I’ll tell myself, why am I learning about emotions, I should be just doing what I need to do to grow. Also, very often I don’t know where to look or how to interpret what I read, making me more confused. And when I try to ‘handle it myself’, telling myself I myself know what’s best for me, I resort to just ‘powering through’ my frustration, which doesn’t work very well. Either way, my frustrations and underlying hopelessness pile up and I give into some sort of weird entertainment or falling asleep.

I think if I were able to think more clearly and prevent my messy mind I’d be far more efficient. Yet this thought itself triggers me! I become afraid, throughout history, people didn’t really have access to psychology and stuff, or to modern scientific / critical thinking courses, do I not have the resources to handle myself? Am I avoiding or evading my problems? Also, isn’t ‘intellectual development’ going to make my detachment worse? Isn’t Ti loop a problem? I have a lot of evidence now that I should just bite the bullet and work on the critical thinking related to properly sorting out my mind. To be fair I do often start doing this; I’d crack open a book, Google things, or think about my issues more systematically. The anxiety is usually quite extreme though and I don’t learn for long. Sometimes, when I get frustrated or upset I’ll do things that are obviously useless, like Google very very specific questions as if I'm talking to some human expert, lol.

Anyway, you can see how messy and divided my thoughts are here. I guess I would just appreciate some help clearing my confusion and making sense of what is happening to me. I suspect the main issue to prioritize is my pattern / habit of not being able to work through problems patiently. But I’ve thought so for a while and it’s not helped too much, so there's clearly something I'm missing. I’m afraid I'm wasting time digging on this when I could be living a more meaningful and fulfilling life. Sorry this got long, and thank you so much! I am always stunned by your knowledge and insight.

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In a nutshell: Almost all the thought patterns you've described are characteristic of Ni-Ti loop, with a few examples of Se grip sprinkled in. When tertiary loop exhibits such a prominent role in your psychology, it is a clear indication that there is a serious problem happening with dominant and auxiliary function development.

You've learned enough type theory to accurately identify some unhealthy thought patterns and try to apply a "fix", but you still don't have enough self-awareness to catch the majority of them, so it's easy for you to get swept away by them.

It's obvious you're trying your best to work though your issues, but your best isn't good enough sometimes. If it pains you to hear that, it means you are not in touch with reality. It is a reality for everyone that life cannot only be made up of successes.

The best way to build a strong and healthy sense of self is to realize your potential. The first key point you're missing is that potential isn't only realized through building yourself up for success; a significant portion of human potential lies dormant, waiting to be mined, in every single one of your mistakes and failures. If things don't work out for you, keep trying until you finally become smart/skilled enough to get it right. (This is the Ni component of the problem.)

You are essentially denying yourself very valuable opportunities to realize your potential because of trying to escape or deny the things you don't like about reality. To have "unrealistic expectations" means you always expect things to go perfectly for you. You basically walk around as though you are entitled to perfection from everyone and everything, as though you are owed everything your heart desires. This kind of unreasonably impatient attitude is toddler mentality. Is it not the epitome of egocentric thinking? Unfortunately, this leads you to suffer constantly from self-inflicted disappointments and frustrations.

If living life well were as simple and straightforward as your "unrealistic expectations" make you believe, then we would all be doing it, wouldn't we? You call others "shallow" when your own thinking barely skims the surface of how complicated human life really is. This kind of hypocrisy is characteristic of Ti loop, of a mind that is unable to detect its own errors.

One obvious sign of Ti misuse is the tendency to criticize others as a means to deflect disapproval of oneself. No, it is NOT a "fact" that the majority of people are shallow; this is a value judgment that you came to just because a few people didn't live up to your subjective expectations of them. One of the first lessons they teach you in critical thinking courses is how to tell the difference between facts and values.

Ti loop is insidious because it makes you overconfident that everything you believe is "fact" and thus unassailable. Invincibility feels nice, right? Unfortunately, it is actually just imperviousness to facts. As I explained in a previous post, tertiary loop is tempting and addicting because it allows you to reside in a mental space where you are never wrong. But that constitutes a denial of reality, which is precisely what makes one delusional in the long run.

Tertiary loop is an ego defense mechanism. People use defense mechanisms to avoid facing up to inconvenient, unpleasant, or uncomfortable truths. Instead of using Ti as it is meant to be used - to examine and vet one's own judgment transparently - looping INFJs use Ti to invent "truths" that are more convenient and comfortable to believe in.

Ti misuse in FJs often manifests as shifting around blame by telling cause-and-effect "stories" that patly explain the motivations behind undesirable behavior. Your story of choice uses "shallowness" as the main theme... which means you are the only special "deep" one in the world, yes? Another aspect of "unrealistic expectations" is walking around believing that everyone should be like you or else they are inferior.

Unfortunately, these stories ultimately bring you nothing but a false sense of power, a momentary ego boost. You really showed those people who rejected you by calling them "shallow", right? No, nothing was achieved and no problem was resolved. If anything, it made you less willing to open up and socialize, which only serves to hamper future Fe development. If one doesn't take tertiary loop seriously, one starts to spiral deeper into it, getting further and further away from healthy development.

The first step for ending tertiary loop is to admit that your way of thinking is wrong. If you can't do that, if you're too addicted to the mere feeling of being right, then you'll continue the slow descent into self-loathing. I can't tell you how many INFJs have said to me that therapy didn't work for them because they couldn't handle the therapist implying that their thinking was flawed. Some of them even knew they were wrong but still weren't willing to give up the comfort of faulty beliefs.

For someone who struggles so much internally, it's surprising that so little of what you wrote was devoted to feelings and emotions. It's actually not surprising, though, because defense mechanisms are used for the precise purpose of covering them up.

Underneath the thick web of Ti stories and rationalizations is a boiling cauldron full of negative feelings and emotions, right? Though you keep trying to intellectualize them away, they are still there. And the more you try to intellectualize them away, the hotter they boil. What's in the cauldron? Anxiety, loneliness, alienation, guilt, shame, sadness, anger, disgust, resentment, rage, hatred... what else?

What happens with Se grip is that those buried emotions get the better of you, so you lose control of yourself, and your mind behaves as though it doesn't belong to you. To improve your emotional intelligence requires you to finally take ownership of your emotions.

The second key point you're missing is that as long as you're unwilling to deal directly with your feelings and emotions, you'll need defense mechanisms, basically forced to do all manner of mental gymnastics to escape feeling bad. This is the origin of Ni-Ti loop. You're trying to get away from the reality of yourself and how you feel like a shameful social failure, so you have to invent stories and excuses to soothe yourself. And in the moments you are aware of the fakery, you feel even worse about yourself for being a fraud. (This is the Fe component of the problem.)

What's so wrong with allowing yourself to feel, especially when not allowing it leaves you worse off? Are you not human? It fucking hurts to get rejected, so cry about it. It fucking hurts to feel lonely, so cry about it. It fucking hurts to fall down, so cry about it. And once you're done crying, get on with life. Is that not preferable to getting totally lost in a mental maze of harmful and hateful stories?

Do you really want to be a more realistic person, since chronic loop indicates otherwise? Start by facing up to the reality of yourself and learn to accept what you see. Yes, people suck sometimes and the world sucks sometimes, but so do you, because you're a part of the world - stop pretending otherwise. You may not have the power to make the world suck less, but you absolutely have the power to make yourself suck less.

You can always change your part of the world through being a better member of it, through making better choices - this is the spirit of Fe. "Choosing" tertiary loop means choosing to believe that change isn't possible, that change isn't good, or that change is unnecessary. And where does that leave you, as Ni dominant who needs change to make meaningful progress in life?

All those negative thoughts, feelings, flaws, imperfections, and shortcomings are there to help you reach your full potential, because they direct your attention squarely to what's truly missing in your life. It is your job to listen carefully, focus all your attention on what matters most that is within your power to change, and fill your life with the right things... as opposed to dodging and evading, getting distracted by trivial things, and wasting time seeking out empty comforts. The sooner it dawns on you that the worst aspects of you are there to help you transform, the sooner you'll exit Ti loop. And the sooner you can finally chill out and socialize better.

#infj #auxiliary fe #ti loop #self worth #shame #intellectualization #defense mechanisms #emotional intelligence #ask

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webanglikethat · 3 months ago

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things ram and devi have done and said without even saying they’re in love / being in a relationship because they drive me insane:

Ram defied orders from the LITERAL goddess because he didn’t want Devi to die, thus ignoring his duties

-> like …. he willingly let another woman DIE in Devi’s place and !!!! this act had been committed five years ago, when the affection between the two had BARELY begun blossoming

-> “Why bother when the goddess herself allows you to decide people’s fate?” had been Devi’s question to him, but little did she know, he already defied every rule for her, going against literal fate

he saved Devi during the arson, putting her before his own BROTHER

he went after Devi when she took off on an horse during the attack, and carried her in his arms back to safety (which he realllyy didn’t have to do 🤭)

it’s revealed he would purposefully change his route to catch a glimpse of Devi

-> Ram’s wishful desire was to see her at every service; just hoping to catch her smile along the hallowed halls where once they met

he “noticed an unfamiliar feeling rising inside him” when he met her again

Ram always found an excuse to touch Deviya — holding her hand to lead her somewhere, brushing his fingers over her cheek to calm her, cupping her face, putting a hand on her waist, trapping her against the wall, his finger on her lips, holding her hands tighter as if it could heal her holding her waist as she straddled him

he said he “missed her smiling at him”

he kissed her neck (quite literally marking her) while thinking of how De Clare would react, not realizing the jealousy that was growing in his heart at the thought of losing her to him

-> which he then said (in season 2) he’d do it on her wedding day too !!

-> in the same episode he tried to pretend he doesn’t care about their engagement 💀, mission failed my dude 🤭

“That. The way he felt when she was near him. The reason he always looked for her in the crowd and couldn’t stop teasing her”

ram always thought of marriage as a transaction, a duty to be fulfilled, something he simply had to do. and love? love wasn’t a necessary equation. that’s what his family line looked like — alliances, partnership, all devoid of tenderness. but Deviya awakened something in Ram — and for the first time, he was confused and lost

“It’s ironic that even with all the knowledge and wisdom of the world at my disposal, I still can’t figure this out on my own. I’m almost thirty, and for all of my life I have denied myself what I wanted because the greater good was more important. And in all this time�� no one has ever been able to enchant me as much as…”

Ram talked Devi through her anger at the reception so she wouldn’t make a mistake in front of her guests and lose the position she had so long worked for (he helps her see the bigger picture)

Ram told her their connection wasn’t for nothing. they were fated for a reason

the less often he saw her, the more he wanted to see her

-> and if she didn’t came, he would wait for her

he noticed everything she did — be it the way she shifted from foot to foot when she was nervous or how she looked at him in fear (from the subtlest of things to the most obvious, he noticed it always)

he teased her about how much she liked him but then said:

“such a rakhasi cannot possibly die. I need her”

admitting, even if it was meant as a tease, that he could no longer exist in a world in which her presence didn’t fill his heart’s pages

he comforted her on the day of her death, quickly realizing that:

“/ wish this had happened to me instead... hasn't she been dealt enough pain already, in her life?”

“when Ram realized how sincere his desire to take all Deviya's troubles for himself was, it quickly became clear that their secret relationship had taken on a new meaning … growing into something profound”.

what started as a perhaps meaningless, fleeting, teasing affair quickly turned into something more — something he couldn’t put a name to, but he could feel encompassing his body every single second

he could no longer pretend it was just for fun or a distraction

so he finally mustered up the courage to ask Devi to be with him (but not officially 😔) even if it was in secret — for he would rather have her in secret, than lose her be it to death or another man.

noticing how distressed she was, he closed his eyes and then slowly began kissing her fingers. Devi noticed that his eyelashes were trembling. “he’s nervous as well, but once again he tries to reassure me first, even though he could use some support himself."

he always put her before himself, over and over again. this isn’t something he was taught, like I mentioned before. for him, marriage or love was based on children, mutual respect and the husband’s views. yet he interminably put himself in the background, just to help Devi shine

“they kissed each other gently and yet desperately at the same time, as only doomed lovers can kiss.”

“he was with her right at that moment. sharing her pain and fear... would that have been possible if what they had was fleeting? he always chose her, no matter what.”

Ram: “I'll be with you. no matter what.” Devi: “I know”

he fought for her, allowing her to escape

and her thoughts led to him, even as she bled out

“the very thought of losing him was unbearable. and just as things were beginning to blossom between them.” “dying would be a little easier if you were holding my hand right now”

"I'm with him in my thoughts, heart, and soul." // "even if it doesn't make any real sense, it does for me. l feel calmer this way."

being away from her, when she was in a coma, made Ram feel like he was dying too // the thought of losing him (as she actively died) felt even worse than death

-> his biggest dream was being able to touch her again, to gaze into her eyes, to see his affection being mirrored in hers. to hear her laughter again was all he could hope for

they risked MULTIPLE times to be caught just to bask in each other’s presence — even if it was only for a few moments because the risk was worth it — they are worth it to each other

his face “instantly lost colour” when she mentioned her wedding

he tried pretending it didn’t hurt him — that he could accept it, that he could have a part of her and let it be enough, but they both knew the truth

so she laid out her future: her married to De Clare, visiting India from time to time, meeting Ram’s wife — but not him because he would still remain a coward who couldn’t voice what he wanted

so he finally let his feelings free and kissed her, marking her neck (in the middle of the hall where everyone could’ve caught them)

he touched her under the table — at dinner, where again, anyone could’ve seen them !!!

the moment Devi’s smile faded, Ram noticed immediately and shifted his tone, asking softly, “is something wrong?” -> he is SO attuned to her emotions, so skilled at noticing even the slightest change — which is especially important since Ram isn’t portrayed as someone who does this for just anyone

they know each other well enough to play off each other’s words without malice — their banter is so much fun (especially on passion route)

he fingers her in the library 🤭 he’s SO careful with her even though it’s obvious they’re both overwhelmed by the connection — he’s letting her set the pace and the fact that Ram doesn't push, but instead allows her to slowly move at her own pace, amplifies her vulnerability and makes her every move feel more significant. she’s still confused on what she wants and he lets her explore it on her own, and she knows he will wait for her

he wanted to dance with her despite not knowing how to — and in front of everyone too !! he was ready to embarrass himself for her

-> he is so caught up in her that he’s willing to push past his own comfort zone, even if it means embarrassing himself a little; as long as he can witness her smile

now she is the one who takes the power and kisses him, marking HIS neck — and so they imagine each other naked, finally taking the next step and ….

he finally admits it to himself.

He wanted to finally understand what it meant to connect with the woman he loved with all his heart.

Ram Doobay is in love with Deviya Sharma.

#rc ram #rc deviya sharma #they drive me so insane #you guys don’t get it #i teared up multiples times writing this #they consume all of my thoughts #if I was a good writer #rc kfs #rc kfos #romance club #rc devi #devi x ram #📝 devram

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stainfjsss · 2 years ago

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Postal Doe x F!Reader HC's

(I fell in love with her from the moment I saw a poostall royale playthrough, she's like a smelly ferret to me (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡)

🏷️: SFW & NSFW, Established relationship, Just really deranged topics...

SFW

-Doe is really protective of you, she won't outwardly show it though but you can definitely catch it through her actions (having her arm around you, giving everyone else but you a mean look, ECT)

-She's gross. Super gross. If you're with her you're either gross too or into it. Doe can go like maybe 1 week and a half without a shower, realistically she would only shower more frequently to impress you

-She watches LiveLeak videos for fun and also has a shit ton of gory movies on DVD, if you're into that then she'll always invite you to her trailer to watch some but if you aren't she's cool with watching normal stuff or movies at the nearby theatre

-Doe has the shittiest diet known to earth, if you get with her you'll probably feel real bad and start cooking her homemade meals, a major upgrade from her dollar store tv meals (she thanks you in many ways)

-She likes to sleep a lot, longer than you at least, it gives you the opportunity to tidy up her place and maybe do her laundry. Doe has a knack to neglect herself but you do try convincing her not to.

-Despite being pretty deranged, Doe actually has really decent advice if you're struggling through something. She takes both logic and emotion into consideration and does try supporting you and your decisions

She encourages you if you're prone to have self-esteem issues, she tells you just how wonderful and amazing you are and how she's lucky to have someone like you

-Super big on pet names, she calls you a bunch of random things but her main ones are, "Sweetheart", "Darling", "My Girl"

-She likes showing off her dumb arm tattoo thinking it makes her 10x more badass and cool (it does not)

-Doe has really light green eyes, she's kinda insecure about them so that's why she always wears her signature sunglasses. When she has them off she's always squinting and darting her eyes around, not even trying to make eye contact

-She's a smartass, and pretty sarcastic. Sometimes you can't tell if she's fucking with you or not so 70% you're taking her bait, by the time you figure out her deal you've already spiraled into a dumb meaningless argument,

"You know, sometimes we shouldn't take things for granite"

"...You mean granted?"

"What? What are you talking about I know what I said"

-Something so god awful and traumatizing can happen to her and she'll chalk it up as "just not a good day", Doe frequently comes over to your place with a shit ton of questionable bruises and wounds, you patch her up distraught but she kisses you and strokes your hair telling you not to worry

-She likes popping all your hand and toe joints despite how much it hurts, it's a bonding activity

-Play wrestling with you all the time, either at her trailer or your apartment the bed is gonna need to be refitted, you always get your ass put in a headlock but you're not a sore loser. Afterwards you always tell her she needs to get on WWE ᕙ⁠(⁠ ⁠:⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠∧⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠:⁠ ⁠)⁠ᕗ

-She loves pickles on her burgers, if you hate them and make it known sometimes she eats like 5 of them at once and french kisses you with the pickle flavor on her tongue, it makes you gag so bad but she cackles like it's the funniest thing ever. If you do love pickles though then she gives most of hers to you (she's such a good gf)

-Doe is definitely taller than you, her boots just add more to her ridiculous height, she likes to carry you and give you piggyback rides...it's fun until she trips and lands face first on the floor with you (⁠´⁠°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥⁠ω⁠°̥̥̥̥̥̥̥̥⁠｀⁠)

-When you tell her she kinda looks like that one chick from resident evil she either has passionate sex with you or beats you to a bloody pulp no in between (she's crazy)

NSFW

-Doe is definitely into public humiliation, she'll touch you whenever she wants wherever... your reactions and sounds are really cute to her and she'd want to elicit more from you. One day she gets you to wear vibrating panties, it was probably one of the most exciting days of your life

-Shes willing to kill anyone you want gone, of course she wouldn't go crazy or anything but if there's a coworker at your job you've been complaining about for ages she'll ask you if you want them to "disappear" for good. You're well aware that this woman needs to be in an institution but it just makes her sexier

-Doe has a good gun collection, and a gun kink. If you're into it and down to try she'll fuck you with the barrel of her favorite handgun, threatening to pull the trigger and make a fucking mess that you'll be alive long enough to feel and witness

-She's down to try anything. Like, anything. If you have a kink you want to do 9 times out of 10 she's willing to try it out, anything for her sweetheart

-Piss kink. Did you seriously expect any less? The 3rd time she went down on you it was crazy, you begged her that you had to go to the bathroom but it just encouraged her to hold you down by the thighs and coax the piss out of your overstimulated cunt, she made sure not to spill a drop as you bucked and whined against her relentless mouth

-Doe has way too many toys, some you're pretty sure you haven't seen ever in your life... she'd rather blow her paycheck on something crazy she found on Reddit rather than groceries (you give her a bunch of shit once you find out)

ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ

Hope you guys enjoyed, not enough people make content about this crazy doe...she deserves love too (⁠人⁠*⁠´⁠∀⁠｀⁠)⁠｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+ .... Definitely not done with her, planning to make an X reader drabble eventually

#i heart women #poostall royale #postal #postal doe #postal doe x reader #postal headcanons #postal x reader

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thegeekcloud · 2 years ago

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⚠️ BSD MANGA SPOILERS ⚠️

This is some theories I've gathered from tiktok and some i made myself and whether I agree with them or not.

Number 1: everything was part of sigma viewing fyodor's plan - although comforting i don't think thia theory is fairly stable. First of all, there are a lot of things happening in a lot of different places that are shown among the same pages and can't be part of fyodor's plan (particularly anya and bram). Furthermore, Sigma's ability is to exchange information and what he asked was fyodor's secrets. Though this could apply to his plan, the amount of secrets fyodor holds was so large that it overwhelmed sigma (as shown) and even if we got fragments of them in those pages they wouldn't be our characters but rather some more groundbreaking to sigma information . Now, is Sigma alive? Usually fyodor kills with a particular style, meaning that there is ALWAYS some form of blood splatter.

As you can see, there is none. Fyodor could had killed sigma but didn't. He seems to be just overwhelmed the way atsushi was.

Which brings me to

Number 2: Fyodor has a double personality ability. - although I doubt that is his whole ability, i believe it is a side effect from it. Fyodor's true ability remains a mystery to all but sigma. Fyodor told sigma about his other persona and then proceeded to say he lied about it. So the information sigma uncovered by touching him would not surprise him that much if that was all to it. However, the fact that I believe fyodor left sigma alive, also suggests that there is a part of fyodor who made the decision to show mercy. Ergo, the second, scared persona we saw in the last issue.

And now.

For the elephant in the room

Number 3: Dazai is still alive. - i honest to God want to believe that. As a writer myself I understand the decision of killing a character such as dazai. He is in the role of the "mentor", someone who accompanied the mc since the beginning and became a role model/father figure to them and ultimately dies to urge the hero forward. There is sense in killing the mentor. However, this does not seem an opportune moment for it. Other reasons for killing dazai would be to push tragedy into the story, chuuya waking up after the world is saved and realising that he was the one to kill dazai, or simply demonstrating the unfairness of life (basically how game of thrones shocked). Both these options seem reasonable for this case anf Asagiri might have chosen to walk down one of these paths. However, since atsushi is also incapacitated, if asagiri chose the former he would place the entire burden of saving the world to anya. Though jt would make a statement to have a little girl do what all these anility users can't, it would lowkey render the rest of the story meaningless as anya is not as explored as a character as others are. Not in the least. As for the second one.....i'm worried about that one cause asagiri is a f*cling masochist sometimes.

Now, how could dazai still be alive?

First clue that we all agree upon:

Though people have stayed conscious after being shot in the head, we are talking about a

Close up forehead shot

The gun was touching his fucking SKIN

There is absolutely NO WAY for dazai to have survived that shot and take another and also have life to chat.

That shot didn't fire a bullet. Even if a gun doesn't fire a bullet it can still ignite the powder and burn the skin, especially if it's touching it like in here. Someone on tiktok noticed this:

Could it be a design of the jacket? Sure. But it could also be the bullet that never got fired. In the end there are three fracture point on the wall tiles:

The first one happens when dazai is shot on his right shoulder

We see a characteristic blood splatter. Thing is, only two out of three holes have that trail.

Since he was definetely shot in his left shoulder as well we have to assume that hole is from there. So what is the third one at the bottom?

Did chuuya stop the bullet at the gun's barrel, brought it behind him and shot it at the lower wall along with his third gunshot ?

Guess we'll see. All i want is for my baby to stay alive. We should always keep in mind that both dazai and fyodor as also poisoned. My guess is that vampirism will be released in the next episode for at least one of the characters, so that is what anya's contribution.

He can definitely stretch it but he already pulled that chard with fukuchi escaping twice. It's gonna get boring and annoying at some point.

Question for then:

Will akutagawa return as a corpse afyer he is released? Or will he be healed?

#soukoku #skk #bsd skk #chuuya nakahara #bsd fukuchi #bsd #bsd atsushi #bsd akutagawa #bsd sigma #bsd dazai #dazai osamu #osamu dazai #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #asagiri kafka #fyodor dostoevsky #bsd fyodor

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horse-girl-anthy · 2 years ago

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Stupidest Ikuhara Man Roundup

hello all: results are in for the most important poll of the year. in honor of our low intelligence men, I am going through each contestant and giving them the appreciation they deserve.

our first contestant is Reo. he received zero percent of the vote because I forgot to include him, which is a shame because he's a real contender. I define stupid in Ikuhara works as "out of touch with feelings, others, and the broader reality" and oh boy is that true of Reo. he comes to no realizations without being forced into them and is ultimately brought down by his own blindness. sad!

with 1.5% of the vote, Tooi is tied for last. I agree with this result; I think he's one of the smarter males included on the list. however, he is still pretty thick. there's the fact that he simps for his pretty boy friends, and he is another character who doesn't realize what would be good for him until it's too late.

it's impressive that Shoma is so low on this list, given that around half of Penguindrum's humor revolves around how dumb he is. truly a testament to the lack of intelligence found among Ikuhara men. on the one hand, Shoma does have a certain kind of emotional intelligence, but he's just as capable of harming others through his self-centered perspective. despite his lack of smarts, Shoma received only 1.5% of the vote.

after Shoma is Mikage, who in a way is Shoma's opposite: considered a genius but with no emotional intelligence. he's so delusional that he's rewritten the past and can't see the obvious, instead continuing to repeat the same cycle over and over. unwilling to grow up, he only leaves Ohtori when Akio no longer has need of him.

tied with Mikage at 3.5% of the vote is Chikai. his low score is a true miscarriage of justice. the man is very, very dense, helped along by the fact that he thinks he's really smart and realistic. he has catchphrases which he repeats on a loop, and they only seem to impress 14 year olds. like most Ikuhara characters, he's a tragic figure brought down by his own flaws and unwilling to face what he really feels. he's also significantly older than most other characters on this list which should give him some extra stupid points in my opinion.

next is Kazuki at 5%. he's emotionally closed off, disconnected, and unaware of how people around him feel, leading to plenty of interpersonal stupidity. he also is a silly teenage boy; when faced with an obstacle, he always seems to come up with the most convoluted solution possible. I don't know if "I have a hard time talking to my little brother, so I'll pretend to be his favorite idol" is stupid or brilliant, but it's sure something.

with 5.5% of the vote, Enta has been chosen as the dumbest Sarazanmai character. it's funny because most of his cunning is motivated by very stupid feelings. he has an emotional intelligence to him, he can be quick on the uptake, but all of those moments are weighed down by his ridiculous, out-of-control crush.

Akio got 7% of the vote. I know he's an evil mastermind and all, but I think he's really quite stupid. he's so set in his ways, sure he knows everything, that anything outside of his field of vision may as well not exist to him. he chooses to live in an empty, meaningless way since it gives him power, yet he's miserable, but all he does with that misery is feel sorry for himself. a pretend prince indeed.

Kanba tied with Akio. he was my personal pick on this poll, although my vote may have been different on a different day. the boy has no sense; he spends the entire show trying to be the man, the protector and provider and savior, but if he'd read ahead a little he would have found out that he was the one who needed saving. the threads of denial and delusion on this character are impossible to unravel. to me, "thick" means "impossible to reach," and oh boy is that true of Kanba.

in second place, with 9% of the vote, is Touga! on the one hand, I don't know if I think he's dumb; like Anthy, his alienation means he's ahead of his peers in certain ways. but on the other, yeah he's dumb, he's REAL dumb. he's a living reminder that pride comes before a fall, and by the end, even the best friend he's looked down on for years is calling his dumbassery out.

and the winner of the dumbest Ikuhara male poll is Saionji, with 56.3% of the vote! let's all congratulate this absolute fucking moron on his accomplishment. he's the butt of every joke, constantly making a fool of himself; his own show implies that he's on the same level as a pet monkey. and that's why we love him.

thank you to all who voted! the poll received 199 votes, which was way more than I expected.

#ikuhara #i wont do a dumbest Ikuhara girl bc the only true answer is Ringo #i also will go on record and say that the only intelligent Ikuhara males are Mamiya Mabu and Haruka

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unreadpoppy · 1 year ago

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Wash My Dreams Away - Chapter 4

Raphael x Tav (Gwen)

Read on AO3

Chapter 3

A/N: another chapter of idk what the F i'm doing with this fic but fuck it, we ball. Also I feel like....like I might slowly turn this into a halsin fic...

edit: I changed the name of the fic from Brown Eyes to Wash My Dreams Away

Gwen didn’t know what to do.

She stood there, alone in the docks, brows furrowed. Deep down, she had expected that the conversation would lead to that - that her dreams meant nothing and she shouldn’t be so worried about it.

But Gwen was upset. Walking towards the edge of the pier, she sat down, her feet dangling above the water. She looked out and began thinking: why did these dreams bother her this much?

Suddenly, she heard footsteps approaching.

“There you are.” She heard Halsin. The druid sat down next to her, crossing his legs. “People were starting to wonder where you’ve been.”

“I’ve been here.” She shrugged. “Just…looking at the water.”

The elf examined her for a moment. “Are you quite alright?”

Gwen sighed. “Yes. No. I…I don’t know.” She looked at him, frowning. “Can I trust you with something?”

“Of course.”

The tiefling took a deep breath. “I spoke with Raphael. He said he knew nothing and that dreams were meaningless.” She rubbed her face. “And sure, he’s probably right but I just…” She groaned, frustrated. “These dreams, they bother me. They make me feel things and I don’t know what to do about it.” Gwen looked at the elf. “I feel so confused.” He noticed how her eyes had begun to fill with tears.

Halsin placed a warm hand on her shoulder. “Gwen. Close your eyes. Take a deep breath. Try to clear your head.” He said.

She closed her eyes, sighed, and then sat up straighter, breathing deeply and then exhaling. Gwen repeated that a couple more times and then opened her eyes again.

“Good.” The druid smiled softly. “Maybe it would help if you started from the beginning. The first night you had one of these, what were your thoughts, your feelings about it?” He paused, momentarily. “From there, we could try to figure out what the root of the matter is.”

“Alright.” She took another deep breath. “In that first dream, I remember feeling…inadequate, out of place. I was in this unknown room, wearing my dirty clothes and everyone else was just…looking and snickering at me.” Her brows furrowed. “Although I know now that it was a dream… then, it felt real, Halsin. I felt like I was really there, so much so that I woke up tired.”

“I believe you.” He said in a comforting tone.

She nodded. “After that, I felt suffocated. As if the people would swallow me whole.” Gwen shook her head. “In a way, I think that’s a bit how I feel in real life.”

Halsin looked at her confused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…when I lived with my mother, my whole life was our house and her. And then I left everything behind to go explore the world but I didn’t really connect with anyone.” The tiefling sighed. “I grew up in the woods, so when I got to the city, I felt like an outsider. There was always something I never heard of, something that I said that wasn’t appropriate. I traveled with some people for a time but we don’t even keep in touch anymore.” She raised her hands. “Hells, sometimes I think the only thing that keeps our little group together are these tadpoles.”

He nodded along to what she said, allowing the sorcerer to figure things out on her own. “For the most part, I felt alone in the world. Sometimes I’d feel even worse, when I remembered I essentially abandoned the only person that had ever cared for me.” Gwen looked at him.

“I guess that blended with the dream. That feeling of not knowing what to do, of being judged for what I didn’t know.” She looked down, playing with her long nails. “I wished there was someone to come rescue me, a knight in shining armor or a prince, like the ones I used to read and fantasize about as a child.” Gwen paused, taking a deep breath. “And he did appear, dressed elegantly in red and with a fox mask. He made everyone else go away and held my hand and danced with me.”

Before she continued, she asked “Do you promise not to judge me for what I’ll say next.”

Halsin raised a brow. “You shouldn’t be worried about judgment when we have such a queer group of people in our camp.” They both chuckled. “But I promise. You may continue in peace.”

“Thank you.” She looked down. “When I was young, by biggest dream was to be courted like the princesses in the stories. And I think…that’s what I felt, in my dreams. I felt…beautiful, desired. And maybe I should be ashamed about it, because he is a devil but it felt good.”

Gwen raised her head, her eyes meeting Halsin’s. She placed a hand over her chest. “It felt good to be desired by this, at first, mysterious man, whose attention was solely on me. Who made me feel beautiful like I never had before. I was feeling…attracted to him.” She paused, the realization of everything coming to her. “And I think that’s what scares me. That I’m falling for this ridiculous devil, whom I barely know because of some silly dreams.”

She leaned forwards and took Halsin’s hands. “But tell me, Halsin. What do you do if the dreams are meaningless but the feelings are real?”

The druid looked at her, deep in her eyes. “To be quite honest with you, this is a very…new situation to me. What I can say is - you cannot control your feelings, and that shouldn’t be a source of shame to you. What matters is how we act upon them, and as far as I know, you were not…throwing yourself into the arms of this devil.” She chuckled at that remark. “You are a remarkable woman, Gwendolyn Gray. Should these dreams bother you again, I hope you’ll feel safe enough to share them with me. I’ll keep my promise.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Full name, huh?” It was his turn to chuckle. Gwen smiled and shook her head. “Thank you, Halsin.” Not knowing how to further express her gratitude, she leaned forwards and hugged him as tight as she could.

When they returned to camp, Gwen felt lighter, as if a weight had been removed from her shoulder. When she went to sleep that night, she sighed contentedly. That peace of mind she was feeling, however, would not last long.

#raphael x tav #raphael bg3 #raphael baldur's gate 3 #raphael x gwen #tav: gwen #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #raphael the cambion #my writing #halsin bg3

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lopsicle · 2 years ago

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Okay, so I finished Wednesday like 3 days ago and I’ve really been wanting to write a fic since, so let me know if this is any good!

Pairing: Enid x Wednesday (implies romantic, but not together yet)

Warnings: Tickle fic, mentions of death

Words: 2,300.

Overworked

No one particularly liked working hard, mainly due to how tired it could make you, or the task itself, but some still saw it as a necessary evil and would push themselves to their limits to get whatever it is finished. In our case, Wednesday Addams is hunched over her table, each exhale letting clouds of cold smoke exit her freezing lips. It was in the middle of winter, and if she was being honest, which she wouldn’t be, she was experiencing a burn out with her writing. However, she didn’t want to talk about with anyone, or make Enid think she was growing lazy, so the girl continued, no matter how small or meaningless the idea. Her hands were practically frosted over and each tap at her typewriter was a slow, awkward movement. Her teeth gritted in frustration each time her mind went blank, or when she simply couldn’t figure out how to continue her novel.

The girl continued like this for the better part of an hour, before she heard the door suddenly open. The girl’s fingers curled in as Enid merrily barged into the shared dorm. Living with the girl was like a rollercoaster for Wednesday. Enid had her upsides and her downsides, but much like a rollercoaster, it seems confusing as to why you’d like it. She was a polar opposite to the gothic girl, yet as Enid said, they worked, even if they didn’t know why. ‘Wednesday! You will never believe what me and Yoko did, I haven’t had time to write about it on my- are you alright?’ She asked, taking a few cautious steps towards her. The two girls were very observant of each other’s habits, and this definitely wasn’t how Wednesday wrote, her fingers were stiff and her movements had much less energy then usual. It was another mystery to Wednesday on why Enid cared this much about her, but after a while, she learned to accept it, even if she found it aggravating at times. She let out another breath of cold air, which just made Enid more concerned. ‘Yes,’ Wednesday replied. Okay, something was wrong. Her voice was quieter then usual, almost drained, and normally she’d have some kind of remark to make it against Enid, but this time it was just nothing. A lie. Enid walked towards the girl, and reclusively, Wednesday turned her body back to the typewriter, not facing the girl. The werewolf leaned down next to her, and placed her hand on Wednesday’s, causing the girl to let out a sharp exhale and tug her hand away. Enid nearly recoiled just from feeling the icicle that was Wednesday’s hand. ‘Jesus Christ, you’re absolutely freezing! How long have you been sitting there for?’ She asked, as Wednesday finally turned to with a look of irritation. She took her time pulling her paper out from the typewriter and sealing it in her box before giving the girl a response. ‘An hour,’ she said flatly, still too deflated to even shoot a remark at Enid for touching her. ‘An hour?!’ The colourful girl’s eyes widened and she shook her head. ‘No, no, you couldn’t of been sitting there for an hour!’ Enid said incredulously, she knew the girl lacked self preservation, I mean, she practically threw herself at danger at any opportunity, but this seemed stupid, even for Wednesday.

‘You have eyes, don’t you?’ Wednesday shot back at her, which Enid for the most part ignored. ‘You’re going to your bed right now,’ Enid said sternly, standing right behind the girl. Wednesday didn’t even bother looking back at her as she said ‘I’m not a child.’ Enid huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. ‘Well, your certainly acting like one, you’ve been here far too long, you’re feel like ice!’ Wednesday’s finger slowed over the typewriter. She couldn’t focus like this, not when Enid was caring about her, all she could focus on was her denial to let the girl help her, and she hated it. ‘I’m not acting like a child, you’re acting overbearing. I’m behind on my novel, I have to keep doing this,’ she explained, trying to keep a calm tone to not upset Enid further. The girl behind her fell silent, to which Wednesday assumed would be the end of their mini argument. But in reality, Enid wasn’t going to back down that easily, not at all. Wednesday had taken her attention away from the werewolf, which gave her some time to think about what she should do. Sure, she could pick Wednesday up and carry her to her bed, but the gothic one would definitely get disgruntled at that. There was the option of just giving her a blanket while she was on the chair, but Enid thought that would be too simply, especially since Wednesday had proven to be difficult right now. Though, there was one option that lingered in her mind. Wednesday’s arms were stretched in front of her as her digits tapped against the typewriter in an agonisingly slow fashion, and Enid’s eyes were drew to the girls side. Sure, it may seem uncharacteristic for Wednesday Addams of all people to be tickling, but it was worth a shot to at least try. She stretched out her index finger and took a long, colourful now before swiping it down Wednesday’s side. The girl practically recoiled away in surprise, nearly falling off her chair but she caught herself in the desk with her left arm. She flipped her head around to this her dorm mate with gritted teeth, ready to tear into her for even trying that, but the smirk the other girl was wearing completely tore away her confidence to that. ‘Don’t,’ Wednesday ordered firmly, wrapping her left arm around her stomach and holding out her right in Enid’s direction to be ready to try and stop the girl if she advanced. ‘Don’t what?’ Enid asked with the sweetest, oblivious smile as she took another step closer to the goth, causing her to lower herself in her chair and curl her knees to her chest. ‘You know what,’ she stated, her tone having the slightest hint of desperation in it, but that wasn’t gonna save her. ‘I don’t know, could you remind me?’ She asked, suddenly snatching Wednesday’s right wrist and holding her arm above her head. Normally, Wednesday would be able to fight the girl off, but that’s on a good day, not a sleep deprived, freezing day. The girl tightly pressed her lips shut, and covering her mouth already with her left hand. ‘Now, let’s see here..’ Enid’s fingers wrapped around Wednesday’s sides before she started rapidly squeezing against them, causing the cold girl to bounce with each touch from the werewolf’s hands. ‘Hm, you’re already getting really squirmy, someone must be very ticklish, that’s so fun!’ Enid smiled down warmly at the girl, who despite her current mannerisms, was still wearing a neutral expression.

Wednesday had been tickled before, so she learned how to control herself in the situation, however Enid was probing rather difficult for her. Wednesday didn’t mind the tickles at all, she was favourable to them, but she’d die before she’d admit that. I mean, with her other interests like death, and torture, you’d think admitting that she likes tickling would be easy enough, but it seemed far too off-brand and childish for her, she couldn’t allow herself to. That’s why Enid’s teasing was making it even harder for her not to crack and let out the giggles blocked up in her throat. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll stop at any time!’ Enid said thoughtfully, as her hands made its way around to Wednesday’s stomach. ‘As long as you take a break and get yourself warm, I mean, even your tummy is freezing!’ She exclaimed, scribbling her long painted nails around Wednesday’s stomach, sending sharp ticklish shocks all throughout the girl’s torso. Wednesday pressed her arms further against her face, not wanting let a single reaction slip as she buckled slightly at the devilish touch of her friend’s nails. Her head shook slightly in response to Enid’s statement, half because she still wanted to continue her writing, and half because she didn’t want it to end just yet. She bit down on the inside of her cheek as some laughter nearly threatened to spill, but kept herself composed nonetheless. ‘Fine, have it your way!’ Enid said, but her tone was only half serious, mainly because she was still concerned for Wednesday, but knew the girl wouldn’t listen to her normally. Her scribbling got even faster, with one hand clawing at the girl’s stomach and her other randomly scratching along with her nails. The nail on her pinkie finger even slipped into the girl’s belly button and started swirling against it in circles,vans finally, all the tickling attention caught up to the girl and she couldn’t contain herself anymore.

‘Kihihihihihihi!’ Wednesday’s legs kicked back and forth halfheartedly as a barrage of soft snickers exited her mouth. Her expression miraculously remained neutral, but her lips were curling at the end of her mouth. Enid’s heart melted at the sight of the squirming girl beneath her. ‘Aw, you have such adorable laughter! You should really start laughing more!’ She encouraged, but she knew it would be fruitless; Wednesday would hardly open up like that. However, the teasing was making this all the more torturous for Wednesday, slowly breaking down at her composure. The worst was yet to come for the girl as Enid’s nails trailed a bit further up and her nails were just barely tracing at her bottom rib. This tipped Wednesday over the edge, she held her hand tightly against her mouth and began twisting her body around in the chair, flailing her legs around as she tried to use her free arm to bat at Enid’s hands. ‘Aw, what’s wrong, did I find a bad spot?’ She cooed, letting her fingers wiggle and pinch against the girl’s ribs, which made her jolt and squirm around, her arms randomly flailing around as laughter carelessly poured out of her mouth. ‘Ah! E-e ihahahd! Stahahahp!’ The girl could only muster out a couple of words between her laughter, which Enid chuckled out. Enid slowly pulled away her fingers from the goth. ‘Hm, I could,’ and in an instant, she jabbed them all back against her ribs, letting them wriggle around and scratch against the sensitive spot. ‘But you have been difficult lately!’

Wednesday utterly exploded into loud, awkward laughter. ‘Ahahahaha my gahahahahad, fihahaahahne, I’ll tahahahahake a breahahahahak!’ She conceded, still flustered she was bested of tickling of all things. Enid slowly pulled her hands away, giving her ribs one last pinch which made the girl jump. Wednesday leaned back in her wooden chair, taking in deep breaths through her nose as she settled down tiredly. All the squirming had only warmed the girl up a bit, but she was still extremely cold. Enid smiled softly at the sight, proud of her new discovery. ‘Thanks for your cooperation.’ She decided that Wednesday looked tired enough and slowly, almost cautiously picked her up but Wednesday accepted the touch and even wrapped her arms around the colourful girl’s neck to make it easier for her to be carried. She pulled back the pitch black covers of the girl’s bed and placed her against the mattress, which she nearly melted into. Enid leaned down next to the bed. ‘How are you feeling?’ She asked compassionately. ‘Drained,’ Wednesday replied, but she wanted to say more. So much more. I mean, this could be her one opportunity to final receive any form of tickling, she wanted to take it so badly. And this was Enid she was talking about, the girl was so trustworthy and had accepted Wednesday’s other morbid interests, she’d be sure to accept a softer one, right?

‘I didn’t mind that..’ she muttered, barely audible but Enid picked it up with a teasing smirk. ‘Mind what?’ She asked, which caused Wednesday to subtly curl up a bit. ‘What you just did,’ she responded, her throat tightening a bit as the words left her mouth, unable to take them back. Enid raised an eyebrow at this and examined the exhausted girl again. She wasn’t messing with her, that was for sure, and she liked the tickling? Enid’s face took a second to process before breaking out in a wide smile, thinking of a careful response before saying ‘That’s okay! I think I liked it too!’ She offered, and Wednesday let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding. ‘Maybe we could do it again sometime!’ Enid offered again, presenting it as just a possibility as she didn’t want to overstep. Wednesday pondered in silence for a moment, before finally saying ‘Just don’t tell anyone or I’ll rip out your tongue.’ She warned her, which caused Enid to giggle. ‘Of course! Our secret!’ Wednesday covered her mouth and let out a small yawn, her eyes blinking slowly and it looked like the girl was on the verge of passing out. ‘Okay, I’ll leave you to sleep now, night Wednesday!’ She turned to leave, but she felt a small, gentle pinch on the back of her trouser leg, behind her knee. She turned to see Wednesday’s arm stretched out to her, and she mumbled a small ‘stay here..’. Enid’s heart fluttered at the sight as she gave the girl a nod, seemingly loosing her ability to speak as she crawled into the bed next to her. Neither of the girls were that experienced with physical contact, so Wednesday leaned the side of her head on the girl’s lap as Enid pulled the covers of her, and the girl was finally starting to feel warm as her stressed expression was replaced with a peaceful one.

#sfw tickling community #tickle fic #wenclair #wednesday #wednesday tickle #lee wednesday #lee! wednesday #ler enid #ler! enid #tickle content #enid tickle

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crownedcrowrow · 2 years ago

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(Alright here's the rant, there's art at the end if you don't feel like reading)

2k3 Leonardo and Rise! Raphael have so much more in common than I would have guessed despite the many differences between them. Specifically their roles in their respective teams, being the leader or the responsible sibling. Both had to grow up too quickly in my opinion, we can clearly see that both are much more mature than their brothers. (This is more of a head cannon but this is why I assume that's the reason they both are shown to own a teddy bear as I mention in the post that started me on this rant.)

To get into the more specific observations, neither one of them asked to be the leader. They just kind of fell into the role because, well, who else would?

In the Rise Movie there was a storyboard that didn't make the final cut. As Raph is talking to Leo Raph states that he never wanted to be leader, he was the oldest and it was his responsibility to look after his brothers. In the episode “Samurai Tourist”, Usagi has a conversation with Leo. Usagi says,” Your eyes betray you, they show me the oppressive burden you have chosen to shoulder.” Leonardo responds with, “ Someone has to.”

Onto my next point. OH MY GOD these poor CHILDREN are so sick with worry and anxiety that they bottle up for the sake of those around them. They are constantly worried about doing a good job and making sure their brothers don't die while also focussing on keeping calm to set a good example. Not to mention there are times they are teased by their brothers for trying to do what they can to make the team stronger. I sincerely don't think their brothers do it on purpose, they just can't relate, therefore they just view it as meaningless team building and extra training. But when there is a close call, it is the leaders fault, after all, a leader is supposed to be able to protect their team. If something goes wrong, if someone gets hurt, or ends up dead, the leader should. Have. Done. Better. They should have found a way out or made a better call, right? Anything it takes to make sure everyone gets out alive, even if it means to sacrifice yourself for the sake of your team. Or at least this is their mindset. We see this demonstrated many times with both characters, Whether it’s Raph throwing himself off a clif to help his brothers ulcock their mystic powers or taking a stab through the shell to protect his little brother. For Leo, whether it's jumping head first into tricky situations to protect his brothers or fighting the Shredder all by himself, even choosing to take on the burden of beheading the Shredder by himself and living with the knowledge of what he did just to make sure no more harm would come to his family. But when their brothers don't listen to them or worse openly ignore them, it gets frustrating and eventually that pent up frustration is going to cause “the cork to pop off the unopened bottle.”

“I'm the oldest here. I'm responsible for keeping us safe and making sure we can handle anything that comes our way, because if I dont we could all end up dead. “

“We stopped half! And only because we got lucky! Is that good enough for you? IS IT? We're always one step behind! We act like a bunch of amateurs! How many times are we gonna get beaten before you guys wise up and realize this isn't a game!?”

To put that all into simple terms, they need so much therapy. Specifically group therapy with Rise! Mikey's “doctor delicate touch” as their therapist. I also just like to think that if Raph or Leo start to think a bit too much about their shell scars and how they got them, their brothers would put gold painto over the edge, kind of like Kintsukuroi. ( If you want to know more about it look it up, I don’t feel that it’s my place to talk on behalf of the Japanese practice. Just think it's really neat and has a beautiful message behind it. Since the turtles are of Japanese descent I figured Splinter would have told his sons about it.) Anyway thank you for coming to my Ted Talk!

As a thanks for making it through my rant here's some art of the bois.

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marimqo · 2 years ago

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[Rough Draft] Yandere Xiao

/Part 1/

Concept/Content: Soft Noncon/Dubcon;

—Reader holds a vision or at least has some kind of fighting ability like the traveler-not weak mortal; Reader could possibly be older than normal human beings. Reader’s name is Mao - pls imagine you got reincarnated as someone named Mao ;;

—No OOC (at least that is what I attempted to do);

—TW Soft hostage/kidnapped; manipulation; smut (might contain heavy smut for the next possible parts too); Obsession and Possessiveness; stalking

-Reader knows Xiao, they are familiar with each other before Xiao reveals his dark desire.

A/n: Rough draft posts means I haven’t really reread and edited them thoroughly; these are just quick rough writing I wrote down to not forget.

I also don’t enjoy putting blank space or y/n in a writing paragraph so I randomly name us Mao. Please bear with me 🐟

Xiao’s burning sensation about you was getting unpleasantly overbearing. He didn’t understand this mortal-like feeling and it kept frustrating him these current days. He wondered what these feelings could have been as he had seemed to lose all his self-control while the feeling kept getting stronger and more intense. He knew he shouldn’t do whatever insane ideas that his mind had been yelling him to do, but it was genuinely getting harder and harder to resist the temptation as days gone by. At some points, he had come to conclusion that this could very well be his karmic debt messing with his head, nevertheless, this was something he has never dealt with before and he really didn’t know how to handle it right. Unfortunately, before Xiao could even figure his mind out, he had already been killing every single being that approach his beloved a little too close —without you knowing, of course.

He could not stop himself, he could not handle this enragement that kept on appearing and lingering inside him, telling him to brutally slaughter those who get too close to you. He wanted you for all himself only, no one deserved to get close to you except him. He might have let it slides if it was just some small talk and meaningless human’s chitchat —for your mental well-being, of course. However, if there was a connection that could possibly be formed and bonded just a tiny bit deeper than he allowed it to be, he would absolutely devour the other person.

Xiao was sort of a distant psycho, he didn’t want to let you know about his obsessive side unless he had no other options left. He would occasionally affect and manipulate your surrounding occurrences and events to make sure everything was under his control, and that you would not be, for even a second, out of his sight. Xiao preferred to play innocent and distant in front of you. So you would think he was harmless, that he would not do anything maniac and overboard. He remained calm and mature in front of you most of the time to create a perfect impression. Little do you know, behind his mask, there was blood everywhere.

However, none of that mattered anymore, because here you are, influenced under his touch, moaning uncontrollably even though you tried so hard to hold it in. He felt completely dazed and high as if he was heavily drunk and could pass out any minute because of this overwhelming thrilling sensation, this was too good to be true, it felt like his heart was about to explode any second now. He was getting so lost in lust that he was already willing to let his mind executed exactly the insane ideas he had been keeping for himself for gods knew how long.

He didn’t bother remember why he was able to get himself into this situation with you in the first place anymore, it was not like he was complaining. You said it was a silly mistake and you didn’t really want this but he didn’t care, he saw the opportunity and took it. When would be the next time you become as vulnerable as this again? He had had enough of waiting and stalking you just to wait for the right time to lure you into his embrace once and for all. But now, look at this golden opportunity gifted by the celestia, he could not let it go. You were heavily influenced by the drug effects and is being super sensual and heated, you bought the wrong item and tested it on yourself recklessly, how careless of you, right?

Xiao walked in right the moment the effect was spreading and you, as helpless and it made you became, immediately ran over to him to steal a kiss. You wrapped your hand around his neck and back and pulled him in for a needy kiss. As the effect started kicking in harder, his natural male body scent became more seductive to you and your sensual body.

“It seems like you appear to need a helping hand, mao”

“n-no..i’m sorry i-i didn’t mean that..”

“..Relax, I won’t tell anyone”

He said, impatiently and roughly brought you up in his arms and carried you over the bed, eyes filling with lust. Xiao slammed you against the bed, following with a sloppy kiss like he was really about to eat you alive, no doubts. Tongues and heavy breathing intertwined, with your sweet little moans in between it all. You couldn’t think clearly anymore, you just wanted to go with the flow right now and let your body felt the pleasure it deserved. But there was something telling you this was not right, you should not be doing this with someone who was not your lover. How would this result in?

Despite you being the person who was affected by the drug, Xiao on the other hand seems unwillingly to let this pass more than you, it almost seemed like he was the one who was drugged in the first place and not you. You called out his name in a lustful and tempting tone telling him to stop. He ignored. The only thing he wanted to focus on right now was making sure you went insane from the pleasure he was giving and made sure you would remember this night forever. He wanted to imprint you with your first time, he was so happy he was your first. Not like anyone else would be capable of this besides him anyways, considering all the secret slaughterings he has done.

“mao, this is all your fault”

Xiao’s mind had gone blank and corrupted completely after hearing his name escaped those beautiful lips of yours again and again, telling him to stop. He was so aroused by you calling his name in such a lewd way even though he knew you didn’t mean it. He hovered over you and started caressing every inch of your curves, amused by the thought that this is all his now and there was no way for you to run away from this situation. You would eventually have to give in, he would make sure it happened that way. And the things after tonight, well that would be another issue that he could handle later on.

Xiao’s sharp golden eyes were filled with so much heavy lust and dark temptation that just one look into his eyes and you knew there were no escape, he would not listen to you at all.

He loved the way your tiny cunt could not let go of his dick whenever he tried to pull out, it tightened and seemed displeased. His eyes got darkened quickly by the thoughts. Yes, you were the one who seduced him, this was your consequence and not his problem to consider stopping this now. He began to express his sexual desires towards you for hours and hours without stopping or slowing down the pace. It was so messy and dirty, one time after another with merely any breaks in between. You probably have done it in every position possible in every corner of the room by now.

You were so embarrassed and could not believe what Xiao was doing right now, it all felt so unfamiliar, this was not the Xiao that you knew at all. How could an adeptus who barely made any mortal interaction had capability to perform sexual acts so surprisingly well like that…

Wait, well? WELL? What do I mean by well!? I’m enjoying this?

Another deep thrust inside of you cutting through your thoughts. He kept changing position and you were just blindly following his lead without the strength to fight back anymore.

“You’re distracting, mao? I’m very unpleased with your attitude. What a disrespectful act towards an adeptus who is trying all his best ways to please you right now”

He groaned, teasingly yet he also truly seemed unpleased. You gulped and asked him one more time to stop.

“Xiao, stop please, it’s enou–ngh”

He continued without considering your words with a dead silence response and rough moves, making your overworked body trembling once more time.

The night is still long. He thought.

He couldn’t get enough of you.

Oh my innocent mao, you wouldn’t think that would be enough for me who has suppressed his feelings for too long, would you?

For how long it could go, Xiao wouldn’t let you lose conscious at all. You didn’t understand how you didn’t faint at some points also, you assumed it was possibly his adeptus manipulation ability.

He finally stopped when the sun came out. You let out a sigh of relief before falling into darkness.

After waking up we will proceed on the next part shall we? Sleep tight, mao.

#xiao x reader #yandere xiao #genshin impact #xiao smut #xiao genshin x reader

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tartglias · 4 years ago

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Xiao, Zhongli and Venti with an immortal s/o

“Sooo 👀 can i request so some fluff hc for venti, xiao and zhongli with an immortal s/o?”

thank you so much for requesting!! this is my first time writing for more than one character at a time so it was a challenge lol thank you sm!!

Xiao

Xiao never understood the importance of time. Days, months, even years feel like nothing when you’re immortal. What a funny thing that is, immortality. He knows normal humans would do anything for it, and he despises them for that. Nothing so great came free, he knew that well. He was freed from tortures, only to get tormented by karma. He could still hear the voices and screams calling for help from tortured souls, these still haunt him daily. But the worst moments come when he sees that figure, that person who he once considered close. So close he could use the human word “soulmate”, if he believed in those, to describe who that person meant to him.

Many centuries back he met you, such a gentle person who got to break down his hard walls. A smile, a touch, a kiss. That’s all it took. So many meaningless years, and he never once encountered a person as kind yet strong like you. Someone who made the daily nightmares cease, with a simple smile and brush of fingers.

He remembers your last words like it was the day before. You were on top of one of the tall stones in Huaguang Stone Forest, Xiao laying his head on your lap and you placing small qingxin flowers on his hair. He wouldn’t allow anyone do that to him ever, but in the end, you were you. And you were different.

“Xiao” you called, once you were done placing the flowers. He opened his eyes and muttered a “hm?” in response. “I have to leave soon. Mondstadt calls me”

He sat up.

“What do you mean?”

“By tomorrow morning, I’ll be on my way back to Mondstadt” you said, quietly standing up.

He stood up too.

“When will I see you again?” he asked, now not being able to look at you.

“I don’t know” you said, reaching out for his hand and taking it. You placed a soft kiss on his knuckles, and he felt himself calm down at the gesture for a moment.

“I meant it when I said I’ll love you forever, Xiao” you said, finally locking eyes with him. You had teary eyes, he dreaded to see you like that. If it were up to him, he would swallow every bit of pain in your body and soul, just to see you smile.

And with that, you disappeared. As quickly as you broke down his walls, you disappeared just as quick the next day. Days, months and years became even more meaningless, but somehow he felt them longer. He missed you every day, he whispered to the moon every night, wishing that some archon would hear and bring you back to him. He knew you were like him, but he never heard from you again. Were you able to finally cross to the other side? He tried to erase those thoughts from his mind.

He later found himself in that very same stone, the one in which he last saw you. New Qingxin flowers blossomed, and they reminded him of you. He sat down, staring at the horizon. But then, he felt a strange swift of wind, and a presence behind him. He quickly stood up, ready to put his mask on and kill whoever dared to interrupt his solitude. But he didn’t. The mask in his hand dropped to the floor, next to the flowers.

“I’m back” you said, with a shy smile.

“You’re back” he said, more to himself than to you. Were you really there?

His question was soon answered, once you stepped closer and pulled him in a hug. He found himself wrapping his arms around you, holding you as close as he could, while trying to hold back his tears.

“I’m sorry I took so long, my beloved” you said as you locked your eyes with his. You grabbed his hand and held it, but you never once let go of the hug.

“I’m here to stay now” you whispered.

Zhongli

“You need to stop playing with people’s hearts” Zhongli said, as he sipped on his tea and looked at you questioningly. You rolled your eyes in response and put your focus back on your potion. A few petals from the most exotic flower in Teyvat, a little bit of juice made from vines and a teaspoon of slime condensate.

“Sometimes mortals need a little push in the right direction” You said, finishing up the mix and transferring it to a small bottle made of glass. “Plus, we’ve been here for centuries, I’m bored and I need a hobby”

“I don’t think that messing with human’s love lives can be considered a hobby. I don’t think it’s morally correct” he said.

“You’re very dramatic. I can feel the true desires of every being that touches the soil in Teyvat, and if I sense that the desire is mutual, I simply work my magic” You said, sitting back on your chair next to the tall man.

“Can’t you let them figure it out by themselves?” He asked.

“That’s no fun Zhongli” You said, finishing up the sweet perfume-potion you were creating.

You and Zhongli have been friends for centuries. You met when you moved to Liyue as the representative of the Dendro Archon, someone you really looked up to. Zhongli was kind enough to make you feel at home, and soon became friends with the Geo Archon. Though you must admit, you always wished it was something more.

Maybe that’s why you picked up this “hobby” of yours. Unrequited love is something painful and mortals only live a short life, you believe they should live it fully, if possible.

“Are you alright?” Zhongli asked, interrupting your thoughts with a concerned look on his face. You didn’t realize you had a sad look on yours.

“Oh? Yeah of course” You said, quickly brushing it off and proceeding decorating the small glass bottle.

“Y/n-“ he started, placing a hand on top of yours in order to get your attention. “I’ve known you for a long time. I know when something is wrong”

It was funny. He knew you like the back of his hand, he knew how to read you since the first time he laid his eyes on you. Yet he never found out how you truly felt about him, how your heart made like a million flips whenever he did something as simple as hold your hand, or brush a hair away from your face. All these little things and gestures, have been making you swoon over your closest friend for years, centuries even.

“Time and love are strange concepts, aren’t they?” You asked, looking straight at him. Here goes nothing, you thought.

“I believe those are rather simple concepts”

“You can spend a lifetime with someone, know every habit and expression but you don’t know how they truly feel about you” You said staring at him, searching for any hint that indicated he knew what you were talking about. But you saw nothing. Who were you kidding? He’s just your friend, has been for a long time.

You let out a defeated laugh, standing up and letting go of his hand. “Forgive me, I don’t really know what i’m saying” you said, grabbing the potion and starting to leave. But you felt his hand on your wrist, stopping your movements.

“You said you felt the desires of every being that stepped foot on Teyvat’s soil, am I right?” he asked, looking at you. You nodded. “Does it work on me?”

“You wanted to get close to me, as a friend”

“My apologies my dearest y/n, but I think your blessing is wrong” he said, standing up and holding your hand once again. “I did want to get closer to you as a friend at first, but not any longer. I’ve been observing mortals for a while as well, on my daily walks through Liyue Harbor, and I think I finally understood my feelings”

You were sure that if Zhongli listened close enough, he would hear the fast beating of your heart.

“I’ve been waiting for you to use your love potion on me, my dear y/n. I’m sure it wouldn’t have worked anyways since I believe it would take a lot of effort to make an effective potion that could work on me. But it would have given me the excuse to tell you how I really feel” he said.

“How do you feel then?” you asked him, looking up at the tall man.

“I think I’m very lucky to have you by my side, and it makes me want to travel to the Dendro nation and personally thank the Archon for assigning you to Liyue. I also want you to still be by my side for the centuries to come, if you’re okay with that” he said, lowering his voice by the end.

You acted before you could process your thoughts. You stood on your tippy toes and kissed his cheek gently, never letting go of his hand. He liked you, he felt the same way about you. It was real.

“I’m okay with that” you replied.

Venti

It was almost noon, almost an hour after the original time you accorded with Venti to meet. You planned a picnic date by the big tree near the statue of the Seven, your favorite spot. The same spot which later, became Venti’s favorite spot as well.

He wasn’t a person who would jump straight to conclusions. You were late. Maybe you fell asleep, maybe you couldn’t find the guitar you promised to bring so you could play a duet. Being late doesn’t mean something bad happened, right?”

He decided to wait a few more moments, but once the sun set, he had enough. He went out to try and find you. He went to your house, but noticed the door was locked and no one was inside. “They left” he thought.

He slowly but surely started to get desperate. Where were you? Were you hurt? Did you get lost somehow? He went to Angel’s Share, and not even Master Diluc had seen you. If Venti wasn’t in such a panicked state, he would have noticed the rare concerned and worried look Diluc had on his face.

If any traveler walked by literally any road in Mondstadt, they would soon encounter a big rush of wind. Venti went from here to there as fast as he could, trying to find you.

He soon enough found you in Stormbearer Mountains, fighting hilichurls and two pyro mages. You looked tired, sweat covering your body and your clothes were dirty. It was obvious that this has been going on for a while. You gripped your sword as hard as you could, and kept fighting. Why didn’t you call for him? With no exception, Venti tells you daily to call for him if you ever encounter a problem. It’s not that he doesn’t think you’re strong, oh no, he believed you were the strongest mortal in Teyvat. But in the end, to him you were still a mortal. Fragile and over-sensitive. He often told you to call his name, that the wind will carry it and he will appear there to help you out. So why didn’t you?

“y/n!” he screamed, once he laid his eyes on you. You turned around and saw a rush on wind, and felt his presence. What you didn’t feel though, was the pyro attack coming from one of the mages. The mage summoned three pyro artifacts that surrounded you, and burnt you. You felt your energy slip away, your head dizzy and your body burning. Then, you felt the cold wind, Venti quickly finishing off the mages and the remaining hilichurls.

Venti thought it was over. You were kneeled down, burnt skin, gasping for air. It was over, you were going to die. He felt his eyes water and fear running through his veins. He wrapped his arms around you, making you lean on his chest.

“Don’t leave me” he begged. “please”

“My dear, I don’t think I can” you said, letting out a short laugh.

“Please stay strong, I think I can carry you to the cathedral but you need to hold very still so-“ he started saying, now fully crying but you interrupted him by putting a hand on his cheek and wiping his tears with your thumb.

“I’m serious, I don’t think I can leave anyways. Venti, I literally can’t die.” you said, with a laugh and slowly standing up.

“You... you’re immortal?” he asked, looking up at you, not being able to leave the floor.

You nodded. “I thought you knew”

“I hate you” he said, standing up and wiping away his tears. “I do”

“No you don’t. But you’re cute though!” you said, grabbing his face and kissing the tip of his nose. “I’m very sorry I’m late though, my commission took longer than I thought but let me compensate you with dinner and a bottle of wine”

“But you’re still burnt?” he asked you, concern still in his face.

“Oh don’t worry about that, it will rip out when I start walking. I have healthy skin underneath” you said, like it was the most normal thing in the world.

“Why do I feel like this is not your first time getting so hurt?” he asked letting out a soft chuckle, suddenly feeling lighter now that he knows you’re okay and will probably be okay for a long long while.

“Eh, been there done that a few times” you simply said, taking his hand and walking back to the city of Mondstadt.

#xiao x reader #venti x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact headcanons #xiao imagines #xiao scenarios #venti imagines #venti scenarios #xiao headcanons #venti headcanons #zhongli scenarios #zhongli headcanons #zhongli imagines

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hotch-stufff · 4 years ago

Text

Surprise, Surprise

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x F!reader

Warnings!: there are no warnings, im not telling you a single thing. It's a surprise. Just read and find out ;)

Also, as much as I love him, Jack does not exist in this story, wasn't really sure how to write him in.

Author's Note: I'm so sorry that I haven't written in a while, I have had no inspiration and my bf dumped me so... ya'know that was nice. Anyways, finally getting some inspo, hopefully I will be writing more. Hope you guys enjoy this one :) Also, the mood board is mine, but the images are all from pintrest.

Word count: 1.4 k words

This is an emotional roller coaster

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You couldn't breathe.

You couldn't move, or speak.

Your knees gave out as you fell to the floor, sobs racking your body.

You felt arms wrap around you, but it didn't help. You were suffocating. He was your air, and he had just been ripped from your lungs.

He was gone, dead.

Your husband.

The love of your life.

Aaron Hotchner was dead

* * *

You don't remember anything after the doctor uttered those words. You don't remember Rossi picking you up and holding you. You don't remember the sad glances, the tears shed by your teammates. You don't remember the car ride to your now empty shared apartment. You don't remember lying down and sobbing into the pillow for hours.

No, you only remember the pain. The unbearable pain of loss.

He was gone. Really gone.

You cried and cried for hours on end. Until you had no tears left to shed.

Then you just lied there, staring at the wall, gripping his favorite shirt in your arms, remembering every little moment with him.

And it hurt like hell just thinking of everything you did with him. The day you met. Your first kiss, your first date. The day he proposed. Your wedding. Every little thing.

And you wouldn't be able to do anything else. You wouldn't have kids with him. You guys had just talked about having a baby just the other day. He wanted one so bad.

You shouldn't have waited.

Because now, now he was gone.

* * *

The next few days were a blur. You found yourself with home-cooked meals overflowing your fridge. A team member at your house every night. But it was all a blur.

All meaningless without Aaron.

The funeral was coming up. You didn't make any arrangements, you asked Rossi if he could handle it and he quickly agreed.

He had taken care of finding the casket, picking a place, and finding a burial site. Everything.

The only thing you had asked for was a closed casket.

You couldn't handle looking at him.

* * *

On the day of the funeral, the girls all came over to help you get ready.

"Alright y/n, do you have a dress?" Penny asked as she walked out of kitchen.

"In the closet." You croaked. Your voice being hoarse from the crying and lack of speaking for the past two weeks.

"Okay I'll grab that, and shoes. Jj is going to make you breakfast and Em is going to do your hair okay?" You gave her a sad smile and a small okay.

Penny quickly walked back your hallway as Em began pulling your hair back in a low ponytail. You felt the tears begin slipping down your face once again.

Jj saw as she walked back in the room with a bagel and coffee.

"Oh sweetheart." And the dam broke. They comforted you the best they could. But they couldn't even imagine what you were going through, because he was gone.

* * *

The funeral was a blur. It seemed like everything was these days.

It was a beautiful service. You don't remember much. Lots of hugs and 'sorry for your loss's.

It had gone quickly, and soon you found yourself in Rossi's living room. Everyone but the team had left, you sat alone. The rest were in the kitchen cleaning up.

You didn't move from your spot, sipping your wine.

Everyone walked in, and found spots around you.

It was silent. Not a single word was spoken.

"I'm taking a leave of absence." You spoke.

6 pairs of eyes shot to you, but they couldn't say they were surprised.

"It's just too much. I'm not ready to come back." Your voice was quiet. Rossi was the first to say anything.

"Take all the time you need."

* * *

And you did. You spent about 3 months in that apartment, alone and sad and heartbroken.

But you realized that Aaron would never want you to live like this. And you really needed to be able to pay the bills.

So after those 3 months, you gave Rossi a call. He had become until chief since you had left, and he instantly accepted you back to the team.

You were slowly getting better.

Each passing case a distraction.

Each one fixing you just a bit more.

Each one giving your life a purpose, a meaning again.

And you felt better. You stopped crying yourself to sleep. You stopped sitting in silence for hours on end. You stopped crying every time you thought about him.

But you still visited him every week. You still thought about him everyday. You still wore your wedding rings, refusing to take them off.

But you were better.

* * *

A few more months went by and you started going out with the team again. You spent more time with them. Almost every weekend. And you were somewhat okay.

And it wasn't until about 8 months after his death did your world come to another crashing halt.

You had been called in to the BAU, not entirely sure why, but you came in none the less.

You figured it was a case, but Jj hadn't specified on the phone, which was strange.

You had walked up to the conference room, and were surprised to see the whole team sitting there ready to go.

"Hey guys, do we have a case?" You asked, but Jj sent you a sad look causing you to grow worried.

"Y/n, you should sit down for this." You had no idea what was going on. What on earth was happening. "Peter Raymond recently resurfaced, and was taken into custody this morning about an hour ago. He resisted arrest and pulled a gun on an officer. He was shot and killed." Your heart hammered in your chest. He was gone. The bastard who killed your husband was gone. Rossi stood walking towards Jj.

A pit grew in your stomach, there was more, something you didn't know.

"8 months ago I made a decision that greatly affected this team. Aaron Hotchner received substantial injuries from the wounds he endured, but his surgery was a success and he was airlifted to an unknown location. His identity was changed in order to keep him safe. But he is alive."

You couldn't believe your ears. He was alive. Alive?

Your eyes shot to the door and there he stood.

Aaron Hotchner.

You couldn't breathe.

You couldn't move or speak.

He was alive, you should be ecstatic.

But you only felt anger.

Your eyes shot to Rossi.

"How dare you." You whispered out, surprising the team. You weren't an angry person, you never yelled at your teammates. But you, you were seething. "How could you do that. You knew he was alive and yet you let me suffer. You watched as I cried day and night. You watched as I let myself go, as I lost myself." You shook your head in anger.

Aaron stepped forward reaching out for you, but you shook your head.

"Dont touch me. Don't fucking touch me." You felt the tears fall down your face. Again. "You left me. You're dead. You're gone. Y-you left." You were shaking and crying and once again Aaron reached out for you, but this time you let him.

He brought you into a crushing hug, holding you like you had begged to be held for months.

He was here, really here. You could smell and feel and see him. He was really here.

"Y-you bastard. You left me." You whispered desperately as you cried into his shirt.

The team was quick to disperse. They too were mad at Rossi, and they wanted to reunite with Hotch. But they left you be, at least for now.

Aaron pulled back slightly, looking down at you.

"Sweetheart I'm so sorry. I wish I didn't have to. But he would have killed you and then he would have killed me." He had tears running down his face as well now. But you were so angry at him.

You pushed him away.

"I could have gone with you Aaron. You could have gone into witsec. You didn't need to fake your fucking death Aaron!" You yelled at him. you couldn't even believe you were eating this conversation.

"Y/n please, I'm so sorry." You were mad yeah, but you were so overwhelmingly relieved that it overpowered your anger. "I missed you sweetheart." He whispered out and you broke just a little bit more.

"You bastard. Y-you stupid man." You pulled him back to you and slammed your lips together. "You stupid, stupid man." You gasped out between kisses.

"I know, I'm so sorry. I love you." He stated after you pulled away.

"I-I love you too." You were sobbing at this point.. "Don't ever do that to me again." He nodded, leaning in to kiss you again.

And you kissed your husband.

Because he wasn't gone.

He was right here.

And god did it feel amazing to have him back

------------

Thanks for reading! Requests are still open, so ask away! Currently I'm only taking requests from my prompt list, which is right here! School is starting up soon though, so i may not be writing very often, but i will definitely try! Anyways, if you would like to read more of my work, here is my masterlist.

#aaron hotchner x reader #imagine #angst #fluff #reader insert #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #hotch imagine #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotch imagine

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chronomaza · 2 years ago

Text

"Adding up" - A short story by me

I saw an angel sitting on my porch this morning.

A man with brilliant silvery wings and dark skin, clad in a silky white dress shirt and holographic jacket, sitting on the outdoor couch in the morning dew. They were looking down at some sort of dizzlingly complex tablet as it floated in front of them. They did not touch it, but it remained in place as numbers were written into it.

Cautiously, I approached them. They were muttering something, and as I got closer, I realized what it was.

“6… 5… 10…”

My curiosity now getting the better of me, I walked up to them.

“Excuse me,” I asked. “What are you doing on my porch?”

The angel briefly looked up at me with desaturated yellow eyes and deep, navy blue pupils, then went back to their tablet. “Oh. Hello there. 20… 2… 12…”

I huffed and crossed my arms. Divine entity or not, I demanded I know their business being on my property. “That didn’t answer my question, why–”

“Sorry, I’m a little focused right now. 40… 2… 80… I’m doing some important work right now, been moving around a lot, and this spot looked comfortable enough to rest a bit, so. 12… 29… 5…”

I looked down at their tablet and its steady flow of seemingly meaningless numbers. “And… what is it you’re doing, exactly?”

“Counting. 67… 8… 7…”

“Yes, I can see that. But it’s rather out of order, isn’t it?”

“It’s not counting up, it’s gathering numbers. 2… 120… So, really, I’m not counting, I’m adding- well, it’s adding.” they gestured towards the tablet. “487… 68… Numbers appear, I say them, and they’re added to a sum in a different program for collection- data’s important.”

“Seems rather inefficient that you’d need to speak into it, doesn’t it?”

“Well, it keeps my hands free. 9… 15…” They said, not doing anything notable with their hands. “Besides, if I did use my hands, I’d surely lose them from how much I’d have to type.”

The angel suddenly paused, looking worried. “Wait… hold on.” they scrolled upwards on their tablet. “487…?” They swiped at the screen on their tablet, causing a second screen to appear beside it. They typed something on it, but I couldn’t see it.

I sat down next to them. “What’s it for, anyways?”

I seemingly caught their attention again. “Oh, I can’t tell you right now. Maybe I can in a minute or two, depending on how severe this gets. 860… 1647?! Shit! It is increasing fast! What the hell?! 2… 78… 346…”

“I thought angels didn’t cuss.”

They stifled a laugh. “That’s a stereotype- I sure as hell do. 2689… 345… 32… You would too if you had my job.”

“And… your job is…?”

“Again, I’ve already told you, adding up. 2345… 456… 823… 25…”

“Surely it can’t just be that, right? Surely there’s something else to it, right?”

They sighed a little. “Yes, but I don’t believe I’m allowed to tell you that either. 3007… 124… 743… 6789…”

“Why?”

“It’d scare you. 12786…” They scowled. “12786- Fuck me! What’s going on right now?! 345… 2345…”

Well, it was no use trying to get any answers at this point. I figured they couldn’t tell me much, so I decided to ask them something else. “What’s your name?”

They smiled a little. “Mavu. And I don’t believe anyone has bothered to ask that before. 3245… 8275… 1235…”

“Mavu huh?”

“Yep. 456…”

“Say, what’s it like being an angel, anyways?”

Mavu chuckled. “You ask odd questions. 23467… 9032… 5678…”

“What do you mean?”

“Most people don’t ask these sorts of questions. 46256… 23435… 2345…” They suddenly seemed incredibly nervous, and looked through the previous numbers. They mumbled something vulgar under their breath, but shook themself and continued. “Usually it’s stuff relating to their religion or whatever. You know, what happens after death, who god is, etc, etc. Both questions I’m not allowed to answer, by the way. 3245… 13567…”

“I’ve never been a super religious person. Besides, I guess I’m just curious.”

“Hm, I see. Well, an angel is just kind of what I am, it’s my job that really matters. 213245- I… GOD! What the hell?! Sorry- that wasn’t at you, 2468… 8927… As for my job, it’s… not fun, but someone’s gotta do it. 9348...”

“I see. Does your job pay well, at least?”

“Angels don’t have a need for money. 345…”

“I almost envy you…”

Suddenly, they stared blankly at their tablet, almost in a horrified way. “938237… 4234… Ok, no, this thing has got to be broken.” They pressed a button on the screen and the same number appeared again. They pressed it over and over, but the same thing happened every time. “Tears began to well up in their eyes. “No… no… no… no…” They briefly looked my way. “I’m sorry, this is sudden, but… can I… hold you?”

I woke up a little, both surprised and perhaps a bit flattered. “Uh… any… particular reason?”

Mavu went quiet for a moment, then wiped tears from their eyes. “I’ll tell you in a minute. Just… please, can I hold you? 1023478… 583394… shit… I… I… just really need some comfort right now, that’s all.”

“Ok, sure.”

“Thank you.” Mavu gently grabbed me and pulled me closer until I was sitting on their lap, and wrapped their wings around me as if they were a blanket. They rested their head on my shoulder and squeezed me tightly, almost like one would hold a cat while they were stressed. “14568646… 435567… 4358892… 239884111… oh god… no… no… no… This can’t be real, it can’t be…”

“You know, for the record, I believe this counts as cuddling.”

“I know… 100023478… I’m sorry…”

I let out a relaxed sigh and laid back into their arms. Sure, it was a little out of the blue, but I didn’t mind. Something about their embrace was unbelievably comforting. So warm, so soothing. Besides, I wasn’t going to pass up something like this.

I looked up at the sky as they went back to softly muttering their strange numbers. The sun had only risen a few minutes ago, and birds were chirping everywhere.

Everything seemed remarkably normal, and rather peaceful, until I turned my eyes to my right. On the horizon, was an ominous rim of glowing red light. Unexplainable rumbles could faintly be heard, and I could’ve sworn they were getting closer.

Mavu squeezed me even tighter, their tears now soaking my shoulder. “302983217… I… I believe I can tell you what my job is now. I-I don’t think the numbers will matter anymore in a moment…”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, you know. I don’t mind.”

“No… I… I think it’d be the right thing to do at this point.”

The rumbles in the distance were getting noticeably louder, so much so that it was obvious it wasn’t from a thunderstorm.

“Alright, then what’s your job?” I asked.

Mavu wiped away their tears. “I’d like to apologize, first. For being so clingy, I mean. You see, I’m usually not like this.”

“Hey it’s alright, don’t get all bent over that. Besides, this is one hell of a thing to brag to my friends about. If they even believe me in the first place, heh…”

They chuckled a little, and teared up even more.

“Hey, it’s ok, I won’t tell anyone if you don’t want me to.”

“It’s not that. I wouldn’t mind either way, I know very well nobody would believe you.” They looked up at the sky in a lonesome sort of way, then back down at me. “Thank you for comforting me like this.”

“It’s really no problem, it’s just the kind thing to do. But I do think you’re dodging my question.”

They rested their head on my shoulder again, closing their eyes. “I’m not sure if I want to tell you.”

“Again, you really don’t have to.”

“No, I do have to. I’m holding you in my arms, I’ve been talking to you. You deserve to know. You see… my job…” Mavu put his hands together, and his tablet turned into light, retreating into his pocket.

I waited in anticipation, watching the sky. As Mavu hesitated a little, I saw streaks of red dash through the clouds, burning them away and giving everything a red tint.

Soon, the entire sky was ablaze, waves of fire were dancing across the sky like a hellish version of the northern lights. I could feel the ground shaking, car alarms starting to go off and birds fleeing into the air.

The air was getting hotter, too hot to breathe, screams were echoing in the distance, steadily growing louder, and a horrendous, terrifying roar like a motor was rising up from the depths of the earth, becoming louder and louder.

It was then, softly, Mavu spoke again, scarcely audible over the now deafening turmoil around us, his voice somber and quiet. “My job… is tallying up human deaths for soul collection.”

#writing #my writing #short story #horror #angels #writers on tumblr #writeblr #short fiction

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yanderenightmare · 4 years ago

Note

bitchy bratty catty pretty-girl who gives fuck-all, the school tries to straighten her ways by introducing her to a temporary captured shiggy, who is soooo fucking pissed off at this smug pretty bitch, going to track her down and make her pay!!!! >-< plez Mizz Nightmare

yandere kidnapper ! SHIGARAKI TOMURA

TIP-JAR

goodiebag WARNINGS: yandere, dubcon/noncon, abuse, profanity, bullying, anxiety, drugging, kidnapping, abduction

CUTTHROAT

“Wow! Right for the kill?! You’re real cutthroat.”

She wasn’t really surprised to hear that they’d caught him, and unlike many others she wasn’t surprised to hear that they’d be holding him on campus. She had full confidence in both the faculty, the promising Hero-course students, and UA’s security system, knowing damn well it could serve well as a prison not just for the students who went there, such as herself, but for the leader of the League of Villains as well.

To say she felt safe as she walked with Aizawa to meet him would be an understatement. She knew why the teacher had been tasked with taking her there, the intention being to scare her, give her a picture of what scum she would become if she continued down the path of fuck-all she was currently on. But, even though she wanted to rebel against taking any orders, she was feeling something far more superior than the will to fight back, something that trumped safety and laid waste to fear, she was feeling thrill.

This would be a means to an end, a cure for boredom as well as a way to show once and for all that she was a hopeless cause, maybe then these obsessive heroes would leave her the fuck alone already.

“Wow, you’re really ugly! I mean, they warned me you were, but I could never’ve imagined it’d be this bad!”

She was jeering laughs at the lanky figure who towered over her, his hand wrapped tightly around her throat and his eyes spiraling in disbelief in process of understanding why what was found beneath his fingertips wasn’t turning to ash.

“Aren’t bad guys supposed to be sexy?” Her idiotic rambling only succeeded in confusing him more as she shrugged his seemingly useless normal hand away, walking to sit down on the floor, knowing it would be a while until Aizawa let her out again. “You know, to seduce and lure people into their ranks?” She looked over the meal tray he’d flipped out of her hand before seizing her throat, nothing sharp, no cutlery, no broken glass, just one measly apple. “I’m guessing you’re not in charge of recruiting. I mean… who would ever want to follow your ugly mug?”

She watched in anticipation of what remark he’d hurl her way. She’d heard he was bratty, she’d heard he was the one who could set her straight, divert her from this collision-course she’d set herself out on. Yet, his response was more than disappointing, not at all the tornado of a tantrum she had been preparing for. “You talk too much.” He didn’t even sound at all any provoked by her words, dismissing her as he slowly made to pick up the apple from the ground, checking to see if it was his quirk that was gone or if there was something else afoot, finding his answer in the ashes of the fruit.

“Come on.” She drawled, crossing her legs beneath her, keen eyes looking at him as he too sat back down to lean against the wall, looking only a fair bit of annoyed with her presence, as though she were a stain on his shirt, an inconvenience of some sorts. “You were gonna kill me!” She laughed, his red scrutinizing orbs looking to her with a sneer. “Without a thought, in cold blood, no remorse, even after I gave you food like the mutt you are, the least I can do is spit in your face!”

He didn’t answer. Eyes still set on her where she sat planted without a single care, annoyed with how comfortable she looked, as though she were in her element, as though she was winning some sort of game, a game that wasn’t even about him as her eyes flittered to the black-glass of the window every now and again.

She clicked her tongue, beginning a new ramble. “Tell me, Shiggy.” She smiled, eyes wicked and gleaming and untamed. “That quirk of yours…”

She might have phrased it all like a question, but Shigaraki could hear it plain and simple, how her one goal was to mock him, poke at him until he burst, and not even for the sake of watching him burst, but for the sake of proving to whomever was on the other side of that glass that they couldn’t tame her. He didn’t need to know her entire story to see that much, how he was being used as a pawn to convert some meaningless pretty-girl.

“Can you control it? Or does everything you touch turn to ash no matter your desire?” It wouldn’t have been out of place if she’d licked her lips with how dripping with venom her words were. “It’s like the Midas touch, isn’t it?”

Her poetic phrasing of his deadly quirk had his eyes narrowing, but he hadn’t much time to think her wording over before she began a new escapade.

“Have you ever fucked anyone, Shiggy?” She didn’t even look at him as she asked, alerting him of what he already knew, how she had no interest in his answer, only his reaction, and the reaction his reaction would beckon from the people in the other room.

She was trying to rile him up, prove how vicious she could be, prove how she hadn’t a single fuck to give.

“I bet you’ve never truly touched anyone. How could you? I mean, first…” She laid down on her back with a careless roll, looking to the ceiling, ignoring him if it weren’t for the fact she was talking to him, or about him, or at him. “Who would ever want to fuck you? All those wrinkles and all those scars. You look like the onset of death.” She giggled, and he watched her tits bounce as though they were laughing at him too. “I cannot imagine anyone willingly wanting whatever you have to offer. And even if you force it on them, you’d be bound to fuck up with how much they’d struggle.” You’d think she carried a vendetta toward him, with how personal her attacks were, yet it was all given away with how little she was paying attention to him, as though she’d judged already whatever it was she found interesting and was now done with him. All she remained focused on was creating a show, to see how far she could take it before anyone came in to stop her, how much she could poke until something snapped, how much she could bend until something broke. “Just one slip of the hand and you’re left with your dick only halfway wet in a pile of dust.”

He didn’t know if she knew how correct her imagery was, he guessed she didn’t, he wanted to believe she’d show a bit more restraint then, a bit more unease, more respect. She acted as though she wasn’t trapped in a box with a notorious villain, seemingly unaware of her own stature as well as his. She was nothing but a school-girl and yet she felt comfortable enough in her safety to be lying on her back, flinging insult at the person she was locked in with.

“I don’t see how it could bother you for too long though.” Again, she had him intrigued. “I mean… pretty stupid bitches who’re only worth one fuck anyway can’t really be counted as a loss, can it?”

It was clear she didn’t view herself as one of said pretty stupid bitches, even though a pretty stupid bitch is exactly what she looked like in Shigaraki’s eyes. Perhaps that was her point exactly.

“Have you ever dusted someone who did count as a loss?” She rolled over, head propped up on her elbows, laying in her palms, her feet kicking the air behind her. “You ever fuck up so bad? Committed an irredeemable act? Something so unforgivable even you can’t forgive yourself?” Her eyes were set on him again now. “Do you think about it every day?” Her tone shifted then, to something sadistically sweet. “Does it hurt just as much now as it did then?” Her face split into a grin, eyes ablaze as she observed, searched for a breach in his composure. “What happened to mommy and daddy, Shiggy.” She singsonged, toying with him. “Were they your first victims? Did you cry? Do you still cry? Or did they deserve it?”

Her look was earnest, salacious until she rolled her eyes in boredom at his lack of response.

Sighing, she calmed back down, briefly. “I get it… You don’t want to play with me ‘cause you don’t think I’m a worthy player.” She scoffed as she looked to the side with a melodramatic drag. “You should check yourself. We keep you in a cage, give you food, have you on a leash and collar. You’re nothing but our pet!”

She giggled again, biting her tongue, gnawing on it between the rows of her teeth with her mouth open in a wide smile.

“You know… My quirk is called immunity, but it should really be called repellent.” She looked at her hands then, now kneeling in front of him. Her gaze split like lightning, snapping to look at him again, a catlike smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth. “You and I aren’t that different, are we?” It looked for a second as though she were about to stand up, but the movement fell short as she instead gave way to crawl closer to him, one elegant arm followed by the other, all with the grace of a huntress, a panther easing in for the kill. “In fact… I think I’d go as far and say we’re the exact same…” His eyes didn’t deceive him, this time she did lick her lips, only now her words weren’t dripping with venom, but with some other sickly-sweet nectar. “’Cause…where I never let anyone come close, you let ‘em come close… only for them to die!”

“That’s enough.” He must have closed his eyes the second he felt her breath fan over his face, because he’d missed the time the erasure hero had walked in. “This was a waste of time.” The dark-haired man groaned, disappointed.

“Aw, really?”

She wasn’t in front of him anymore, to his surprising disappointment, though her sweet smell still lingered about him pleasantly.

“And I was just getting to the fun part…” She walked to the threshold of the cell-door, not once indicating she’d turn around and take one final look at him. “Well, anyway… tootles, pet.”

Even as she insulted him, she did it twice over by not returning his gaze.

She was still sleeping, she noted as her mind, though still groggy and drowsed out, became lucid enough to start thinking. She was sleeping, yet the sleep felt unsafe, as though her alarm was bound to go off any second, firmly shaking her awake and telling her time was running out for her to get to school. And if she’d slept through the alarm, a teacher was soon to come fetch her. Yet, for now she remained halfway asleep, waiting for an alarm or a knock on the door unknowing of how it would never arrive.

He wasn’t sure if it was the drug that had perhaps made some of her senses dull under the impression, for… surely she should feel that her mouth was stuffed full and made to suck on a rag, surely she should feel that her wrists were tied together behind her back, and how her thighs and legs were secured together in a frog tie, the rough rope, scratchy in texture, and how it scraped against her soft doughy skin. Perhaps he didn’t tie them tight enough. It was hard to get a good grip without accidentally dusting the ropes, but he knew the struggle was worth it, seeing her now, in all her defenseless vulnerable rightful glory.

“Not so tough now…” He taunted at her small sleeping frame. Even with her clothes still on, he knew her naked body was only a mere touch away from him. How he could spread her open without her being able to kick, only wiggle for him, like a worm on a hook. No… that imagery is too ugly to be describing her, when she’s so far from ugly. She’s more like a butterfly trapped on a pin, wings fluttering hopelessly, reduced to nothing but beauty, nothing but a little doll for him to play with, tamper and poke fun at just like how she’d done back when he was captured at UA.

He decided pro putting the blindfold on her, perhaps the product of her bullying him in the cell, her jabs at his appearance subconsciously having gotten to him despite himself wanting to dust them off like he did with everything else. Her comments were sharp, and seemed to have the same type of immunity her body had, where his ego, much like himself, hadn’t the thickest of skin. Besides, she was… so painfully out of his league.

It hardly mattered though, now that he would regain all the control.

She laid on her stomach, face mushed against the mattress. He’d removed the pillows and comforter so she’d be placed like a centerpiece on his little operating table. She looked so harmless now, so sweet, especially tied up the way she was, and with those whimpering moans that were simmering to the surface, breaching her sleep, escorted by her wiggling, her delicious tempting little wiggling, begging for Shigaraki to come introduce himself, now with the turned tables.

“Did you really think I was just gonna let it slide?” Her wiggles came to an abrupt holt, breath caught in her throat, making her choke out a curt gasp through the thickness of her makeshift gag. “Did you think you were safe? Like you were simply spitting on a grave. No ghosts coming to haunt you.” She panicked once she felt the bed dip, four fingers sharp in their venture, sweeping up her back, settling around her neck, drawing out painful sudden studded goosebumps, spreading across her skin like wildfire in a field. “Silly little slut.” She squealed at the feel of his warm breath on her cheek, unable to move away, her head halfway buried in the soft mattress, teeth sinking into the cloth in her mouth when his tongue, wet with drool, large and flat, dragged up her already teary cheek. “Boo.”

Her ears were burning, so much blood gushing and rushing and pooling in her head like a storm, she barely registered him drawing back with that maniacal giggle, where with as trademark as it were, there was no doubt where she was or who she was with. Yet, she hadn’t the time to think about it, she hadn’t the time to regret or answer questions she hadn’t even the time to ask, because as her mind was cooking up chaotic whirlwinds of fear, crippling fear despite being crippled enough already, brutal fear that her gut feeling like acid festering and mind reeling in on itself in such vehemence she felt she might just faint, give out like a light in a blizzard, she was given no time before he was talking again, pushing her even further out on the edge she found herself, stepping on her fingers one by one, with no mercy as she dangled above jagged rock that were sure to spear her like an arrow through a dove.

“You were wrong, you know.” She felt his hands trace a careful set of four fingers down the fabric of her shirt, rubbing into her spine, further pushing the breath from out of her lungs. “I’ve fucked before.” He spoke casually, though peppered in between the notes of nonchalance was found the spiked flavors of spiteful mockery, like the mean girl on campus, like how she usually talks, like how she had spoken to him. “But, what I haven’t done is played with someone’s body the way I’m gonna play with yours.” He listened to her whimper, sobs surely to soon wrack through her body, uncontrollably and thoroughly, making her gasp and choke on nothing but air and fear. “I mean, it’s only fair.” She heard the shrug in his voice, that sarcastic sigh and lightheartedness. “You fuck with me, I fuck with you.” This time he growled and she swore she would piss herself with how scared she was.

He was going to kill her, she knew it, she could feel it crawling up and down her body as though mites were hidden in her clothes. She already sensed him peeling off her skin, flaying her with her screaming. And in those seconds, those hopeless seconds, she wished for death, for it to be quick, painless, like simply snuffing out a light. She nearly prayed, squeezing her eyes shut to pray to that God or Devil she never believed in, never needed as badly as she needed them now. She wished for her heart to give out, for the right vein to pop, for a lung to collapse, anything, just for her to be dead before he had the mind to torture her to death.

“Does that sound fun, pet.” And there she broke, waterworks in full effect, no longer simple silent tears but something that had built under pressure like boiling pot of water, bubbling, soon to be blubbering incoherent sobs out into her gag, all to his vengeful amusement.

He watched her for a moment, one longer than he’d probably intended, despite not having view of her eyes, watching the blindfold wet as her eyes leaked at the complete overwhelming loss of hope, lips sucking on the gag those tears that managed to escape and run down to salt her lips.

“So pretty, aren’t you?” He accused, giving her barefoot a squeeze, making her wiggle with what mobility the bonds allowed her, looking handicapped, as though he’d disintegrated both her arms and legs when he’d simply tied them up where they would be stored safely and out of the way until he deemed it okay for her to use them again, where until then… she’d remain his little immobile toy. “Pretty little girl, all tied up.” He giggled, both amused and pleased, leaning down to tug those locks of hair that had curtained her face behind her ear, making the thin wisps at the back of her neck bristle in alarm. “All alone with the big bad ugly villain.” He bit it out with a smirk, and she swore she felt venom drop where he spit the words on her face. “Pretty girl… dressed in such pretty things.” He mused, tugging on the fabric of her silk pajama shirt, his other hand stroking a thumb over himself and his caged member, the beast behind the boxer, the one she was still so completely unaware of. “To hide her rotten core.”

He snickered some more at the notice of how ticklish she was, or perhaps it wasn’t as much a reflex but rather a violent display of her fear, how she kicked, or tried to kick her legs, once his hand with its lanky slender fingers danced a pattern on the sole of her foot.

“They won’t be of much help to you now…”

It’s was a cute display, seeing her struggle in an attempt to swat away his spidering hand, endearing, had him drooling he realized, but didn’t bother to wipe his chin, instead giving into the urge he had to touch what was so temptingly sprawled out before him.

“I bet you think of these as your armor, don’t you?”

All five of his fingers touched down on her shirt, and soon there was no shirt left to separate his dry course fingers from her warm skin. He nearly let out a gasp as he watched how she stayed in place, having not become a pyramid of ash. Her beautiful body still right there, warm glowing skin still touchable, more touchable than anything else.

“Keeping you safe from prying eyes and hands… Not my hands though.”

He could excuse how he hesitated on the fact of him wanting to enjoy himself, wretchedly and thoroughly, gorging in every moment he was gonna make her scream, but… he knew that wasn’t the reason… he was… and he hated to admit it, but… nervous. He had this gorgeous creature trapped and under his thumb and he was nervous? No matter how terrified she was and immobilized it was like she still had the power, just like she had in that prison cell.

Perhaps it was due to the fact that he’d thought about her everyday he was trapped in there. She had said she would see him later yet she never once, not once, came a second time. Why would she lie? Just to fuck with him some more? One last and lasting punch in the face? He had dreamed of it. How many times had he fantasized about doing every possible nasty thing in the book to her, teach her a lesson, make her beg, make her kneel, make her bow before him? But now, having her right there, this frail little girl who wouldn’t have the strength to fight him even without the tight rope holding her down, this little girl who despite being just that had him enthralled for months, still just as hellbent, enslaved, spellbound to make her pay… but that wasn’t it either… making her pay was only half of it, maybe even less… what he wanted, what he truly wanted, was to prove to her that he could have her wrapped around his finger despite being what ugly freak she’d made him out to be, that despite being ugly, he could have a pretty-girl like her melting.

He gave fully into his wishes then, her shorts gone with a touch, leaving her in a precious pair of cotton boxers. A sigh of reverence left him, a shudder running through him. He was expecting red lace or something exotic, something vain and narcissistic meant to enhance or simply show off just how pretty she was. He figured that was what she’d dress in, something sexy, because she had the full body that one believes go hand in hand with hot lingerie, yet… she’d chosen comfort. And why wouldn’t she? When she could make it look like the hottest item his eyes ever had the privilege of seeing.

“Fuck…” He drawled, now with a wanton whine, his hand giving himself a squeeze as his cock was beginning to strain uncomfortably inside the confines of his boxers. “Just look at you…”

He only barely dared touch her, not just out of fear of her disappearing like anything else would, but because he didn’t at all feel as though he had the right to put his hands on something so beautiful.

“You shouldn’t be allowed to wear clothes.” He stated, still in awe. “Not when they cover up this perfect body.”

She screamed into her gag as he grabbed around her waist, pulling her pliable little body up into a kneeling position, then pulling and arranging some further to have her in the same position, just over his slap this time, with his bulging cock rubbing through the fabric of his briefs up into her still clothed sex, though with both cloths a thin material she felt the abrasive ticklish friction begin to stir something in her lower abdomen despite her fear and no regard to her disgust. And now, provided with the full view of her delectable little frame, her precious tits sprung free and strutting towards him with how her arms were bent in their confinement behind her back, and perky by both the cold wind of his breath and the goosebump-giving anxiety, leveled with his face, looking eager to receive his mouth, perfect nipples for him to suck on, gnaw between the rows of his teeth.

“These perfect tits…” He licked his lips, hands kneading one mound greedily as the other held her steady. “And this…” He placed all five fingers on the fabric of her panties, turning them to ash, all five staying to touch the delicate skin of her sex, feeling her quake, such a good replacement to feeling someone disintegrate. He groaned out a curse, body sagging, slouching at the sight of her exposed bare little private, he hunched over in awe as he ran his fingers through to disappear in the slit of her precious pussy. “This perfect little pussy.”

She wiggled on his digits with a squealing whimpering sob, so alive and warm and soft he could cry with how safe he was beginning to feel, without the fear of touching just a bit too much getting in the way. Although he was feeling the slight sensation of inferiority in the light of her perfection, or maybe even because of it, he decided he’d give a little scare, perhaps as a means of tipping or evening the scales.

“You know, pretty girl…” His other hand, the one not currently preoccupied with cupping her pussy, brutally brazen for the first time, spread its fingers to stroke the dome of her ass, before curling like claws to grab a fist-full of the ample flesh, making her jump and lose balance, resulting in falling flush against his chest all with a muffled cry. Her face mushed against his collar, her wet reddened nose painting tears onto his throat, such a strange type of comfort against his scars. “I’ve never slapped anyone?” He could feel her heartbeat and how it hammered like a race-horse on the track. “Or, no, I’ve slapped plenty, but a slap from me means death, usually.” His hand ascended, wrapping around her throat, all five fingers with hungry-pressured fingertips, guiding her back off his chest to sit properly, though leaning to bite her earlobe, all to feel her rub down on his aching cock some more. “But I slap you and it means pretty marks and pretty screams, doesn’t it?”

He laughed, knowing full well that he wasn’t going to hurt her, or at least not as badly as he had given reason to think.

“Such a fucking pretty girl, aren’t you?” He trailed a path of wet open-mouthed kisses down her neck and between her breasts, gripping her waist as she recoiled back. “With pretty tits.” Breath labored, or hefty with greed and desire. “Pretty girl with a pretty pussy.” He squeezed her sides, as though getting ready to make a ragdoll of her again, pulling her into the desired position. “Let me taste you.”

Her heart hammered like a hammer hitting an anvil, as she was placed on her back, hands crushed beneath her, uncomfortably wrenching in their bonds. Her mind, stuck in its prospect, hadn’t pieced it together, despite having been stripped naked, she still hadn’t given it a thought, hadn’t dared give it a thought, but his comment made the realization coat thickly, drape her and the pressure seemed too much for her mind to take, plummeting into a free-fall. He wasn’t just going to kill her, he was going to rape her first.

Thighs easily pried open for him to settle in between, scooting back on the bed so he could lie down, lower half humping the mattress desperately, imagining having her wrapped around him, but all in good time. She shook more than writhed, seizurely beneath him, with her blushed pussy a beautiful slit so ripe for the taking, quivering at the warming breath he whispered upon the tender flesh. With his hands wrapped around each their ankle he pushed her thighs and legs up and out of the way as to not have her knee him in the head while he feasted.

He listened to her struggling to breathe, her stomach rising and falling sporadically with her sobs, untuned and painful and begging for any kindness he had to spare, he was going to give her exactly that. Kindness.

His chapped lips felt so good it was cruel, abrasive and inescapably delicious, welcomed yet unwelcome by the bucking of her hips as she squealed into her gag, falling prey to more and more hopelessness. His tongue came second, warm and wet and long and strong, sliding in between her folds only to swipe up and flick off at her clit, forcing a shudder to run all the way through her core into the tips of her toes, mind reeling.

“So cute.” He noted the sensitivity with a mocking jeer, the sound simmering on her skin. “I bet a pretty girl like you’ve never been fucked by a guy like me before.” Then his teeth were the ones to make an impact, grazing over her budding clit with how it reached out in search for stimulation, having its wish granted in such a sense forcing her toes to curl. “Come on my ugly face, pretty-girl.” She really couldn’t resist with how his words were tickling on that sensitive spot, and how intent on finding and following that spot that had her coming on done and abusing it, playing with it with his tongue and chapped lips, switching between such smooth soft yet forceful pressure and bristled rough chaffed contact, making her spasm, wanting so desperately to tug her arms loose to push his incessant face off, because she wouldn’t be able to resist it, she was going to come and make an humiliating mess on his tongue just like he wanted, the knot was going to snap and she would be screaming from the force of it.

He smirked with the taste of her essence on his tongue, giving her a couple more torturous kitty-licks that had her brutally recoiling by the oversensitivity he was abusing. It served well as an ego-boost as he was suddenly feeling the urge to take her blindfold off, make her gaze upon who had her wrapped around his finger. What more, he wanted to remove her gag, hear what she had to say to defend herself, what pathetic please she would come with to try and prevent him from going any further.

His mouth sloshed its way up her stomach, hands touching and grabbing and groping with greedy fingers onto anything and everything they got ahold of, feeling up her smooth skin and soft flesh, before having made their way to grab at the blindfold. Her eyes were petrified, blinking rapidly, especially every time his clothed cock bumped into her bare pussy, leaving strings of spit and fine silken cum to hang from between where she parted with the cotton of his pants.

She was thoroughly out of it, delirious, fear-ridden and numbed with pleasure, cotton yet swivel-eyed as he fought to be her focus. He pulled the gag out of her mouth too, wiping his chin before turning the fabric to ash, eyes looking her over all the while.

His tongue rolled over his lips. “Such a pretty face.” He gathered her face between his fingers, blunt fingertips pushing into squishy bloated cheeks. “Even prettier with those tears you fucking crybaby.” It will never get old, the feeling of nothing happening still under all his five fingers. “Even better with my handprint, don’t you think?” It was funny how she didn’t seem to pick up anything of what he was saying. “Or covered in my cum.” Her brows had scrunched so hopelessly close together, whimpers upon sniffles and whiny mewling and hiccupping panting, so pathetic and precious. “So fucking pretty.” He groaned, giving his lips a second wetting with his tongue. “Kiss me, pretty-girl.” He scrunched her lips together some more, leaving her incapable of refusing.

She tasted herself on his tongue, choking on the sweetness as he forced it like a slug down her throat. Her own tongue submissive in nature, staying beneath and out of the way of his. It was a series varying from needy whimpering moans and growls that followed from his throat, poured into her receiving mouth, giving nothing but weak whines in return. His one free hand, the other one still holding a firm grip onto her chin and cheeks, continued in its hungry exploration, grabbing with an almost childlike curious freedom, leaving painful marks in their wake, having her yelp against his willful lips, which smirk grew upon every inch of reaction she fed him, until pulling away in a haze, panting, with a new little wish he was going to have her be the star of.

“Let me fuck that pretty face.”

She hadn’t the time, nor the mind, to form any protest, reduced to mere whimpering as he pulled her back into a kneeling position, conjoined thighs and legs folded beneath and supporting her ass, still with her arms tied snuggly and unbudgingly behind her back, made to watch him fiddle with the band to his sweats, pulling them below his hips and falling to his thighs, displaying his surprisingly clean boxers and not so surprising hardness. Cock throbbing within its confines, fighting desperately to come free. His hand pulling his boxers down and, cock springing loose, slapping against his abdomen, standing long and hard, tip blushed red and angry, a bead of pre-cum spilling sweetly from his slit.

“Open up, lick it up.”

She’d been lost in taking in the sheer size of him, girth thick and threatening, looking bigger than what she could wrap her hand around, her stomach twisting in tension and unease. Too caught up in imagine it ripping her apart than realizing how he was going to fit it into her mouth first.

Her eyes widened upon the thought, lips slightly apart in horror, bottom-lip quivering. “Come on, pretty-girl.” One hand tugged on his shaft, the other gripped her face, protruding nails to sink into her jaw, prying her mouth father apart to accommodate his size.

She whined at the taste of him, arms struggling behind her back, knees shuffling wider apart to support herself as he pushed on further, fingernails still digging into her soft cheeks, making her lips pucker into a soft welcoming oval. He liked the way her brows furrowed into that beautiful look of plead that had his balls aching where they hung, soon to be pressed up against her soft skin, smothering her chin. He also enjoyed how her whimpers had turned to delicious little vibrations of his cock, drumming alongside his length, such pretty friction.

“Come on, take all of me.” He licked his lips as he urged, other hand coming to caress the back of her skull, gathering her pretty locks between his fingers, abandoning all regard to how she should be turning to nothing but dust molecules instead of being a nice warm soft wet pleasure hole for him. His usually small scrutinizing scarlet eyes turning moon-wide with lustful frenzy. Voice ragged as he clawed at her scalp to obey him, no thought to her whining in protest. “You can do better.” His tip met with the back of her throat and her whine turned more desperate, nearly a scream, but he couldn’t care, not with the memory of her talking to him like he was some pussy-bitch, he was going to show her who the bitch and who the boss was. “Such a pretty little thing with such a nasty filthy ugly fucking mouth.” He spit through grit teeth, begging to fuck the back of her throat, having her gagging on him, hopeless in search for breath. “A mouth like that is only good for one thing.” He gave a few more painfully deep ruts, having her eyes roll back at the loss of breath, before ripping loose again. “Same goes for that pussy.”

“No, no.” She scrambled on the bed, trying to get away, trying to rip free, so hopeless he should have felt bad, but couldn’t bring himself to the feeling as he sat there and laughed, eyes wild, dick prospering, hand pumping his length to the sight of her.

He followed her pathetic struggling little shame, climbing on top of her. The panic swallowed her again, forcing a overwhelmed rush of sobs to come spluttering and blubbering and screaming from her little shape caught beneath him. “Such a little slut.” His fingers were at once groping her pussy, diving between her folds to rub her slit and clit. “Still so wet, are you excited?” She turned her head away as she struggled, eyes squeezed shut. “Aw, pretending it’s not me.” He snickered. “Good luck.”

Offended, he decided against making it pleasant for her, thinking she deserved as little sympathy from him as she had showed him, but his brutal actions slowed at the feel of the pressure around his finger when he’d pushed it inside her.

“So tight.” He stated, shocked as he tried swirling the digit inside, to feel the walls giving little wiggle-room to do so. She winced as he hooked, a heavy breathy shrill type of wince, as though he was pulling a knife from her gut.

He left the finger there, much to her discomfort.

“That comment…” He started, working her tightness as much as he could, still with only one finger. “When we first met.” His other hand gathered her face again, forcing her to look at him as he leaned down, resting his forehead on hers, wanting to see those eyes as he got confirmation on his suspicion. “You said you push people away… that you were a… repellant.” Her breathing hitched as she sniveled like a little girl who scraped her knee. “Did that count for this as well?”

He hadn’t yet let the smile stretch on his face, but the chiding smirk started to grow as the answer was clearly displayed all over her face and by the telltale feeling his finger shoved inside her way too tight hole told him.

“Aww, is the pretty little girl a virgin?” He gave her no inch of regret, even with the fact clear as day. Having worked her tightness well enough to cram another bony-knuckled finger inside her, making her cry out. “Don’t worry, that pretty pussy is in good hands.”

She owed him, this way they would be even. Besides, he wasn’t making it completely miserable for her either. Her face might be telling one story of torment, but her drooling pussy was telling him something utterly different. Perhaps it was due to her amateur ability to hold on, but she was soon creaming all over his fingers, body spasming in tired bliss, eyes fluttering for a moment or two, trying to grasp what the fuck was happening. It was adorable.

“I think my little slut is ready.”

She murmured a sigh, energy spent on crying and struggling and coming twice already, all she could do was moan when his cockhead broke through her tight little weeping hole. He had to moan as well at the snug hug her pussy squeezed and seized him with, biting roughly into his bottom lip, tooth snaggling in the dip of his scar. Brows raised in bliss, scrunched in an eruption, as he sunk deeper and deeper into her tight convulsing cunt, preciously clutching around him, fluttering upon the fulfilling snug fit that had her toes cramping in their curled state, eyes zoning out, unable to focus, mouth blubbering and chewing on incoherent sentences, only capable on slurring out muddled moans and wet gasps as he fucked slowly into, lolling his hips forward carefully, holding onto the mouthwatering feeling of her warmth around him.

He pushed his thumb into her clit, which had her back arching and moan ripped from her throat before she settled down into the mattress again, welcoming the stimulation where she was crippled to preventit. “Your pretty pussy loves being taken by my disgusting cock, doesn’t it?” She could only hum and croon in reply, as he hit the very back, pushing into her cervix with a rather soft nudge, having her result to sucking on her bottom-lip, purring whines like a little kitten taking pleasure from their master. “I hear it in your pretty moans.”

He was no longer biting out the word pretty as though it were a curse or venom on his tongue. It sounded more like praise than anything, something akin to awe, pride even, smug for having it all under his thumb, burying his cock inside the word, for being the one to have reduced such a pretty thing to such a pretty mess, all for him, all by him, making her all his.

She made a shuddering gasp, moaning into his mouth as he leaned down. “Oh, is the pretty girl gonna cum all over my disgusting cock.” He cooed, all five fingers placed on her cheek when cupping it to have those gorgeous opium-blown eyes look at him when she came undone, for him to find such dangerous satisfaction in seeing her conquered beneath him, finding it to be the last push to send him off his own edge as well. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum in that pretty pussy.”

He made to have that final bone-crushing kiss, faces mushed together in a sloppy mess of wet slippery tongues and drool, moaning and groaning, inhaling each-other.

Reduced to mere gasping and panting. Cock, having for the first time felt the fulfilling pleasure of blowing inside the warm comfort of a precious goddess, feeling her gush and come all over him in the near split-second, feeling her clench and tighten around him like a vice, robbing and ringing and milking him for every drop he was worth. He gave some more pumps, pushing deep within her, felt a shudder run down the underside of his cock, overstimulated and satisfied for the first time.

Still coming down from his high, he made to take in her shape and state.

He hadn’t really fantasized she’d be so pliant after being fucked, but looking at her now, he couldn’t imagine her any other way, anything more right then her glossy sweat-slicked body spasming in aftershocks of her orgasms, laid so preciously snug against his chest, thighs visibly shaking with still small feeble stuttering moans slipping from her lips in blubbers. He wasn’t too far from the same state himself, having had only barely the mind before exhaustion rendered his limbs too heavy for moving, to untie the knots and rearrange them into something more comfortable. He decided tying her wrists together in front of her to be better, legs free but too tired and dumbed-out to struggle.

He looked at her drowsy state with a smile, betting he could make such a grateful little pet out of her, and if not, then scramble her mind through so many cruel methods, and make do with a brainless toy instead. But, looking down at that blissed-out hopeless look on her face and that dainty defenseless body he’d manipulated and forced to its knees, he couldn’t really see how any cruel methods would be needed.

It seemed to him that all she needed was cock, a couple of orgasms forced from her pent-up body, a little relief. The little brat was just a bit grouchy and grumpy because she hadn’t had her pussy played with. He could relate, he also gets frustrated when not getting his dick wet for a while. She was just begging for someone to come handle her and that’s all there was to it. Just look at her now, so sweet and spent, lying in his arms.

Come to think of it, he knew for a fact that he wouldn’t be needing to apply any harsh treatments in taming her, she just needed to be tied up and made to feel just how good being taken care of feels until she accepted it willingly. And if and when she decides on being bratty, he’ll have plenty of methods of shutting that trap right up, or in making her scream.

TIP-JAR

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rocorambles · 4 years ago

Text

Reassurance

Pairing: Sakusa x Reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Spanking, Atsumu’s a jealous asshole

Summary: Atsumu annoying Sakusa isn’t anything new, but when the blond setter says something that hits a little too close to home, you’re there to reassure your dark haired lover and remind him that he’s the only one for you.

Author’s Note: The original request was for reader to have a fwb relationship with Sakusa, but in the spirit of Valentine’s day and desire for slightly softer Sakusa content (although it’s still pretty rough sex OOPS), I have them officially dating in this story.

Miya Atsumu is a thorn in Sakusa's side, a fact that doesn't surprise anyone on the MSBY Jackals. But usually there's a slight playfulness to their bickering, a taunting smirk thrown in to take off the razor sharp edges of their vicious words that Bokuto and Hinata nervously laugh at and that Meian rolls his eyes at before they all resume practice.

Not today however and Bokuto grits his teeth as he holds Sakusa back with all his strength, a worried look in usually carefree eyes, as Hinata wraps his wiry arms around Atsumu and practically tackles the fiery setter to the floor, as Meian sternly shouts at both players to calm down, strategically placing himself between their thrashing bodies as they fight against their human restraints and bare their fangs at each other.

The team adores you and how can Sakusa blame them when he himself fell head over heels for you in a way he never thought was possible? So he just fondly looks on as Bokuto and Hinata look at you with star-filled eyes and ignores the harmless subtle looks Meian sneaks at you when you appear at practices, matches, and team outings. It's harder to ignore Atsumu's blatant leering stares, but the blonde setter never makes an outright disrespectful move other than flirtatious comments here and there, so as irritating as it is, Sakusa doesn't say a word for the sake of the team.

But today he had gone too far and although it wasn't the first time Atsumu had openly raved about how breathtakingly attractive you are in the team locker room whenever you posted a new picture on social media, it is the first time he has openly denounced your relationship and everyone freezes at the setter's scornful words when he questions what you see in Sakusa.

Even the team airheads quiet down, but Atsumu continues prattling on about how he would treat you so much better than Sakusa, how you deserve more than some frigid germaphobe, seemingly unaware of the growing tension in the air, the cold fury in dark eyes as Sakusa stares him down. But then he looks Sakusa dead in the eyes, not a hint of a joke in his disdainful gaze, and all hell breaks loose as Sakusa lunges at his sneering teammate.

Despite how aloof Sakusa comes off as, he’s not completely oblivious to his own reputation and how cold he comes off as to others. He sees the skepticism in other’s eyes when the two of you walk out and about. He hears the doubtful mutterings as people wonder if he’s even capable of being a caring boyfriend. And the worst part of it all is that they aren’t wrong.

He is irritable. He isn’t friendly. He’s not a great communicator. And the thought of intimately touching anyone had always turned him off to the point where even he himself wondered if he was destined to be alone. Until he met you.

Women are pretty enough. He can admit that, not a stranger to appreciatively looking at an attractive female who asks him for his signature after a game. But skin on skin contact with a stranger? Holding a conversation about meaningless small talk? Out of the question and dating wasn’t something he even remotely considered as he focused on volleyball and being part of the future Japan National Team that would bring the country its first volleyball gold medal.

And then you had swung into his life out of nowhere, turning his world and opinions upside down and for the first time he found himself wanting to get to know you better, talk with you.

It hadn’t been easy, figuring out how to make a relationship work and in his defense, you’re his first girlfriend. But he grimaces when he looks back at the arguments the two of you used to have, the tears in your eyes when you asked him if he even cared about you, were you so disgusting that he couldn’t even bear touching you, the hurt in your eyes when he chose to stay silent instead of tell you how he really feels. And he groans when he remembers how his own damned pride had refused to budge, refused to allow himself to be vulnerable to you, refused to meet you in the middle.

But when you had come to him, defeated, a slump in your shoulders as you asked him if he wanted to just end things, he had clawed and torn his pride to shreds, love and fear of losing you overcoming his constraints and the two of you began anew, communicating and working together to create a joint journey. It’s an amazing relationship despite the slight spats the two of you still sometimes have, but that doesn’t mean doubt and insecurity don’t brush the edges of his mind every now and then when he feels like he’s failed you as a partner.

Damn Atsumu and his ability to stick his claws where it really hurts.

Needless to say, both Atsumu and him are promptly kicked out of the gym after both receiving an earful from Meian about their unprofessional behavior and an affectionate but stern slap to both their heads as their captain orders them to go cool down and start practice on a fresh new page tomorrow.

And he knows he should take the wise advice, should walk around, maybe jog, let the fresh air calm the turbulent storm inside of him calm before he returns to you, but doubt and uncertainty drag him to your front door and before he can even register what’s happening, he’s pounding relentlessly on the wood until you open it up for him and stare at him with surprised wide doe eyes.

“Kiyoomi? You’re really early. I haven’t even started prepping for dinner yet-”

Your words falter as you’re brusquely pushed against the wall of your foyer, the front door slamming shut behind your lover and you yelp when lips come crashing against yours, almost painfully so. Bewildered you almost have half a mind to shove him off and have him explain what’s going on, but then he’s pulling away himself, calloused hands clutching the fabric of your shirt tightly, and your chest tightens at the distraught desperation in normally calm eyes.

“Kiyoomi? Is everything okay?”

You moan as he kisses you once again, more tenderly than before, but passionate enough that you’re gasping for breath when he finally pulls away and you melt into his tight embrace as strong arms wrap around you and hold you tight to him.

“I just need you. Now.”

And how could you possibly deny that intense stare as dark eyes pin you down?

Intimacy with Sakusa is usually premeditated, process-oriented, starting with a thorough cleanse in the shower and both of you neatly folding and piling your clothes safely in a corner before falling into bed with each other. Nothing like this and your heart races as you’re being dragged through the house and literally tossed onto the bed with so much impact you bounce back, only to be held still once more as Sakusa’s hands scramble to remove your clothing, almost tearing your outfit in the process as he haphazardly tosses them somewhere to the side.

You want to tell him he can relax, that you’re not going anywhere, but before you can soothe him you squeal as you’re pressed against the bedsheets, a mouth hungrily kissing and sucking dark bruising marks all over your neck, your collarbone, body writhing as two hands cover your breasts, kneading and rolling your nipples between dexterous fingers. And suddenly you don’t want him to take it down a notch after all, your hips arching up and insistently rubbing against him in a desperate plea for more that he’s quick to answer by grinding his own groin down against you.

It’s desperate, pathetic, two grown adults humping each other like animals, but neither of you can get enough of it and you’re embarrassingly close to cumming just like that, lewd moans filling the air as you succumb to the combined assault of his body, mouth, and hands. But you indignantly whine when he abruptly pulls away, shocking you back to attention when the cold air pierces you without his body covering yours. And Sakusa smirks at the way your whining turns into a yelp as he easily drags you to the edge of the bed by your ankles until your legs dangle off the mattress, a glint in his eyes when he sees how you nervously swallow at the sight of him kneeling between your legs, his fingers teasingly positioned at your inner thighs.

Sakusa has talented hands, a fact that’s well known to anyone who’s a part of the Japanese Volleyball Association, but you wonder if they could ever imagine just how much more multifaceted his gift truly is and you let out a high-pitched keen as he glides two fingers inside of you, twisting his notoriously flexible wrists in a way that instantly has you seeing stars as he reaches and drags against places inside of you that you never even knew existed. You’re dripping and you wince at the lewd slick sounds you hear as he relentlessly explores and ruins you, shyly biting your lip when you vaguely think about how Sakusa abhors the mess of sex, and you make to gently push him away from you, reassuring him that he doesn’t need to go through with this.

But you startle at the animalistic snarl directed at you, unable to do anything else except slump back down on the rumpled sheets, desperately digging your nails into the fabric surrounding you when he adds a third finger and increases his pace, twisting and turning, plunging even deeper inside of you. It’s overwhelming and you know you’re dangerously close to the edge already, head thrashing side to side as little mewls and whimpers slip past your lips, but then your back is arching, mouth gaping wide open as lips wrap around your clit and you scream as they suck on the engorged bud, convulsing and gushing even more as you dive headfirst into your first orgasm of the night.

Your body is still shaking, eyes still in the back of your head, but you whimper, trying frantically to ground yourself as a hand firmly grasps your chin and urges you to gaze into dark eyes.

“Tell me how good that felt.”

“So good, Kiyoomi. So so good.”

Your voice is slurred, mouth thick and heavy with exhaustion, but your word are good enough for now and you weakly cry as you’re suddenly being turned over, forced to slump down onto your stomach and chest, arms splayed out in front of you as your face rests on the bed, shaky legs barely holding your lower body up as you’re now forced to stand and bend over the edge of your bed.

You’re not sure how much longer you can keep this position up, but arousal churns inside of you once more when you take a second to realize the position you’re in, ass and glistening pussy on full display for your boyfriend, reduced to nothing but a pair of holes as you bend over and present like a slut. And you whimper, ass automatically pressing back and shaking in want as hands grab onto your hips and something hard grinds against you.

Any other time you’d be embarrassed to display such wanton behavior in front of your more reserved lover, but it seems like Sakusa is just as impatient as you and you claw at the sheets, grappling for purchase when he slams balls deep inside of you in one swift motion. He doesn’t give you time to adjust, not that you need much assistance considering how drenched your pussy already is, and you wail as he starts up a brutal pace, fingers digging into your skin as he holds you still while his hips thrust back and forth.

The pleasure is mind numbing and you can feel the sheets underneath you begin to soak with your drool as your jaw remains slack. But you need more and one of your hands slips down between your legs, searching for the little bud at the apex of your thighs, only to be briskly slapped away and you turn your head to complain, only to collapse back down and scream in the sheets as Sakusa swiftly replaces your wandering digits, rubbing and circling your clit.

Your legs are trembling, stomach tightening as something hot coils and slithers inside of you, body tensing as arousal builds up to a crescendo inside of you, the lewd sounds of Sakusa’s balls slapping against your ass with every thrust echoing throughout. But as you teeter totter on the edge once again, you’re dragged back to the present when a hand sharply smacks your ass.

“Who’s making you feel this good?”

“You, Kiyoomi! You!”

“Can anyone else make you feel this way?”

You can barely register the words, struggling to make sense of the questions he’s suddenly pouncing on you, desperate for release and being used. But you’re silent for too long and you howl as you’re punished with two more harsh smacks.

“Answer me.”

“NO! No one except you. Kiyoomi, please, please, please, please…”

You’re babbling at this point, incoherent wanton ravings of more, please, and Kiyoomi drowning the air, and you think you might start sobbing in pain and denial if he doesn’t give you what you want, willing to degrade and lower yourself to pleading and begging. But Sakusa takes mercy on you, satisfied with your answers, and you gratefully begin to loudly moan again as he chases his own end, dragging you along with him. And all it takes is a few more stuttered thrusts and more coaxing of your clit to have you falling apart underneath him once again, and the clenching and convulsing of your tight soft walls has him tumbling down after you, painting your insides white.

You really do begin to collapse to the ground this time, trembling legs unable to stand anymore, but strong arms are there to catch you and your body goes limp in relief as you’re gently laid fully onto the bed and pressed against a comforting warm hold as Sakusa lays beside you, letting you nestle further into him and tuck your head under his chin in a way that makes you feel safe and loved.

It’s a few moments before you can even begin to reassemble yourself, but when you do, it’s your turn to nudge a handsome face into making eye contact with you and you gently pepper Sakusa’s face with soft butterfly kisses as you urge him to finally explain what all that was about, reassuring the guilty and embarrassed countenance that it’s fine, both of you are fine, and everything is going to be fine, no matter what he says.

You listen attentively, stroking long wavy locks as he hesitantly tells you about the incident in details, scowling and holding your lover even more fiercely to yourself when he repeats Atsumu’s vicious words, murmuring reassurances to him about how you only have eyes for him and even if you ever did leave him (you wince when he glares and bodily wraps around you like a serpent), it sure as hell wouldn’t be for a snot-nosed arrogant prick like Miya Atsumu.

He loosens his grip on you, appeased by the way you affectionately drown him in kisses and nuzzles as he continues on to recount the rest of the day’s events, but he stares askance at you when you burst into laughter as he tells you about the fight that had almost broken out, that he had almost started, peering at you questioningly and unamused, unsure what you could possibly find so funny about the situation or his atrocious handling of the matter.

And then he’s full on glaring at you as you relentlessly tease him for his childish impassioned reaction to Atsumu’s bitter words, mockingly cooing at him and fluttering your lashes as you call him your big strong hero, breaking into disbelieving cackles every once in a while when you imagine your mature, level headed lover trying to get into a fist fight over some silly words a stupid brat had said.

But you’re not laughing when you’re suddenly being pinned on your back again, a surprised yelp forced from you as Sakusa sharply nips your earlobe before irritatedly staring you down.

“Clearly I didn’t work you over well enough if you have enough energy to laugh and make a fool out of me. Let’s change that, shall we?”

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu fic #haikyuu smut #sakusa x reader #sakusa smut #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi #haikyuu x reader

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