#then help a single one of those annoying cunts find their friend | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

legallybrunettedotcom · 7 months

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Do you have a solution for breaking the cycle of self isolation after you've been made to feel inferior for being a "loser" who hasn't had as many life experiences as you should've at your age? I find it very hard to connect to people my age because im in my 20s and I've never dated. Even if I can get past my own insecurities constantly telling me I'm lesser because practically every single person my age (even the biggest outcasts or people who are less conventionally attractive than me) has been in a relationship and I haven't, people still bring it up and make it clear they find me weird because of it, like you said. I don't wanna be like this my whole life but frankly, its difficult not to choose self isolation when people actively and purposefully make you feel uncomfortable over being a "loser".

i put it under the line because i ended up blabbering too much.

sometimes i break that cycle and then get down a bit and decide to get stuck in it again. i'm the same, i never dated anyone, never kissed anyone and i don't know why. it's not like you can leave the house and yell who wants to fuck and everyone will flock to you. no one ever showed any interest. another thing is i have no friends, like genuinely. i try to hang out with people, but none of them are friends. i'm a proper loser in the eyes of everyone. i don't think there is a solution here that won't include constant heartbreak. it's just a process of endless trial and error until finally something works. or it might not work. like ever. we are both only in our 20s, there is so much ahead of you if you wish there to be. i don't think one should be jumping into the den with lions, but if an opportunity is presented to you, even the smallest one, take it. if you feel afraid or weird about it, learn to recognize that kind of thinking and try to be faster than it and go " ok let's do this, i'm counting 3-2-1 and my final decision is this or that. we're doing this or we're not doing this. end of story. " it's about learning to think less, as stupid as that sounds, but you see around yourself that the happiest people are those who don't think that much, they just do shit. through it you'll accumulate new experiences, new knowledge, new interactions etc. i know it's so easy to get stuck inside your head and only focus on yourself but it's important to practice curiosity, not just in the books, but when it comes to people as well, the person opposite you will always know something you don't.

you mention in the brackets the outcasts and people less conventionally attractive than you. it's the typical thinking of someone who has been insecure their whole life like what do these people have that i don't? envy obviously isn't the healthiest of feelings but it's normal and sometimes it just jumps in front of you before you can be your proper rational self. but i point you right there to those brackets, it seems to me that you do see something positive about yourself. i think all these insecurities that we have are often not genuine but a shield and just this sort of thing of oh let me put myself down first before someone else does. i did that my whole life and i still sometimes slip into it, but then one day i was like wait a second, why am i allowing intimidation? write down your qualities. like don't be humble, try to be as objective as you possibly can be, but also be a bit of a bitch a bit of cunt and write down every positive trait you have. i don't really like this modern self help books sentiment that is just constant repetition of know yourself know yourself you're the center of the universe blah blah it's so selfish and annoying and pathetic, but you do need a starting point, have some fundamental understanding of who you are or at least of who you're not and understanding of everything that you can possibly be and accomplish. if you find security in yourself, everything that you are and your potential to learn so much and be so many things you wish to be, maintaining your openness and curiosity and being less serious about yourself, other people's opinions and these notions of this type of person is a loser and this type is not, won't hurt you.

the human experience is so varied, everyone is learning on the go and there is this idea and concept of normalcy that a lot of people have failed to conform to. simultaneously we're all (for the most part. even those who mock you.) aware that there is no such thing as normal, no right way of living and yet we so desperately seek the conformity and approval and mistake it for community when it all reeks of malice and competition.

when it comes to all these people you mention, sort it out with yourself like ok do i genuinely want to do these things? am i seeking validation from people i don't respect? does this or that feel right to me? i know you don't want to be judged and you don't want to constantly be alone but do you really want to engage with people who don't respect you? like in my head, a good friend won't judge and laugh but will give you some encouragement, a bit of a nudge because sometimes that's all it takes. like i said in the beginning, trial and error. but that is every interaction til the end of your life. whether you're a loser or not. you try, you see ok i like these people or you say ok this fucking sucks and you move on. you get down a bit and then you try again. another thing i said in the beginning is that this might never work. some people never find friends, some people never you know find romantic love etc. it's a possibility and it's not the end of the world. is it an incredibly difficult thing to accept? of course. there is nothing i can say here that will make it an easier thing to accept.

i don't like those condescending posts that start with "you need to do this", you don't need to do anything you don't want to do, but toughen up, put some muscle on you, i don't mean literally, physically, but i think you get my sentiment. i don't think there is anything i said here that is going to be helpful, that is going to offer a concrete solution, because i think you know what the solution is and it's that annoying advice that people always give and i have been given it a million times, of like put yourself out there, you'll find someone, it'll all work out etc etc and it's like omgggg thanks for nothing. and i suppose in a way i did offer you the same annoying advice. no matter in what kind of cycle you find yourself in, the only way out of it is doing that very difficult thing that you dread. a person who isn't afraid can't be brave. try to develop a mantra, a story, a channeling of sorts that's gonna make some things a bit more bearable. i literally repeat a line from a book inside my head. this is how i try to sort out shit with myself. not everything works for everyone.

oh and another thing that helps is getting angry. not aggressive, not physical, not violent, just maintaining a healthy dose of anger inside yourself that propels you forward.

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blackdagger456 · 2 years

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Let’s Talk About: Incorrect Analysis’s On Catra

You Cannot Condemn Complex Characters Like Catra By Focusing On Their Negative Actions/Traits Without Or Disregarding Why It Happened.

Really, REALLY tried not to talk about this on Tumblr and to keep it on twitter but I couldn’t help it. I had to share this discussion here. Because apparently it is hard supporting Catra nowadays as said fans like me and supporters of Catradora, Glitra and all other ships involving her are more than fully aware.

I am very sick of people using inaccurate information to just defame Catradora, Glitra and Glitradora. People only using the surface level of their situations and putting scenes out of context makes me annoyed to the highest level. Especially when they use it to prop up other ships

Let’s start with the three original posts in this thread to begin with.

So much.

So much shit is wrong here and we’re only at the first half of this post.

No, my mistake not so much EVERYTHING about this post is bloody wrong. Nevermind the fact that every single person under these threads agreeing or offering their own arguments against Catra is instantly wrong because this person is saying that an abuser was right to abuse their victim. It completely disregards the entire context of said scenes, what they actually mean and any other scene prior.

No, Catra did not deserve anything Shadow Weaver did to her. Nevermind the fact that if Shadow Weaver HADN’T done those things none of what this person ,and others who agree with him, is complaining about would have happened in the first place. Without Shadow Weavers abuse I bet my own right arm Catra would have left with Adora on that day in Theramore.

The scene in which Catra claws Adora is now famously used out of context in arguments against her on both twitter and Youtube. Let me break this down to you in simplest terms.

#1. They were children. Children are emotional and often lash out when they feel threatened or hurt.

#2. It was to further highlight Catras insecurities about Adora leaving her for other people which was further proven when she went to talk to Glimmer in the literal next scene. (One I love for other reasons such as Catra and Glimmer fully letting their guards down around each other and bonding over Adoras silliness to find comfort in each other.)

#3. The rest of that flashback is what prompts Catra to go into the rising action of her redemption--which i agree I wish there was more of but i’m satisfied with what we got--which doesn’t stop until the final episode.

#4. When doing analysis using words like ‘cunt; does not make you or your words seem smart it has the opposite effect.

#5. Catra was having a panic attack because at that age Shadow Weaver was telling her that the only reason she was even alive/kept around was because Adora like her. If Adora stopped liking her Catra would have no use and be thrown out so Adora hanging out with Lonnie and making more friends isn’t just her being possessive or a sociopath it is her associating her survival to Adora liking her.

#6 After that scene we switch to adult Catra looking at the window in thought, thinking back to that moment in contemplation and--in my mind--regret.

Moving on to that just absolute wrong opinion about Shadow Weaver. Yes she was interesting but by no means did she deserve to be electrocuted/binded by magic, gaslit, manipulated and threatened for her entire life.

She did not deserve a lick of the abuse she went through. That is not an opinion that is a fact, nobody deserves to be abused in the slightest.

Which leads me into the next thread.

(Shout out to Dude and SovietOnion for spitting facts. The latter is one of my fav She-Ra account so give em’ a follow.)

In the words of AceVane everything these two just said was “Incorrect as fuck”.

Firstly, SW was responsible for Adora and Catra. Never is it stated or shown that the other three were under her direct care. There was definitely a form of brainwashing in the form of propaganda which linked back to The Red Scare the US went through.

Shadow Weaver in no way shape or form had anything resembling a redemption arc. What she got was a Darth Vader death scene that still felt iffy in hindsight because of her final words.

“You’re welcome.”

Ah yes, thank you for gaslighting us and abusing Catra physically/Mentally and Adora Mentally which caused heaps of problems across the war and all seasons.

Truly, we owe you everything.

Now, as a character I like Shadow Weaver and Hordak. As a friend told me “I know this sounds iffy but I like it when abusers have layers. I don’t like em but I like to understand they why.” A statement which I am fine with--HOWEVER.

You not gonna sit there and tell me that no other character in She-Ra was properly developed at all.

Like bro--

A good 90% of the cast was worked on and developed through the entire show Shadow Weaver more or less stayed the same, sasyy, manipulative self through the show. Hordak is another matter but you aint gonna sit there and tell me you’re gonna ignore her gaslighting Adora and Catra as soon as they got back to Etheria and her manipulation of Glimmer.

I’m sorry but that aint flyin by me. You can’t just point out all the negative aspect of Catra and then look at Shadow Weaver and say she’s completely fine.

You cannot judge Catra on her negative actions alone. To do so would be an insult to the character and show, it also shows how little you understand of her AND Adora in the first place. You need to explain it fully. You need to explain the cycle of abuse and how that’s part of Catras arc, breaking that cycle and trying to get out of it and failing. She tries with Entrapta and Scorpia, the only two positives in a toxic environment she’s known all her life.

But it doesn’t work because she is STILL reeling from her best friend/crush seemingly abandoning her, the plans they had made to eventually run the Horde, refusing to return to their ‘home’ all while her abuser is still targeting her every chance they get. I’m not denying any of Catras actions, but I do realize the why in the situations. Saying that “All she did was apologize.” is a severe wrong to all characters involved.

She did so much more than that and there is so much context. During the entirety of her time in Primes ship was reflecting, she looked upon destroyed worlds, she tried to get SOME kind of familiarity in trying to speak to Hordak, comforting and talking to Glimmer and seeing herself in Horde Prime. Prior to her capture she had once again lost everything, she sent Entrapta to Beast Island an action that gave her PTSD and nightmares. She pushed away Scorpia the consequences of which rocked her and contributed to her breakdown.

She was going to let Glimmer fully kill her, showing another suicidal tendency like she did during the Portal episode. She didn’t care of she died as long as she won turned into I lost everything just kill me already. Let’s not forget she was jumping at shadows in hopes of Bringing Scorpia back to the point that Lonnie—someone she grew up with but had a sort of rivalry relationship with—was visibly worried. On Primes ship she sacrificed herself knowing she was probably going to die, ‘knowing’ that with Glimmer gone Adora wouldn’t come for her, acknowledging and owning up to her own actions through—well through her actions. And when it comes to Adora well—if you guys really think she was ‘chasing after Catra’ you really didn’t understand who Adora is.

Firstly she had no idea Catra was on the ship, secondly when she found out of course she went back for her because at the end of the day Adora isn’t the type to leave someone to freakin die. That’s not who she is, even without their history Adora wasn’t ever going to knowingly leave Catra behind. Even after she rescued her Adora has long since stopped holding Catras hand when it came to her barbs and blame but she understands Catra. She understands her more than anyone which is why she stayed when Catra asked her too during that scene on the ship post rescue. Building on that it’s also why Entrapta forgives her after she apologizes when the two are alone and THAT is a turning point.

Catra apologizing.

Realizing what she’s done and finally working to break out of the cycle she has been trapped in her whole life. From journeying to the ship and the entire rest of the war on Etheria she works on herself and is still called out for her actions.

The princesses do not trust her right away nor should they but Catra works on it. She has Adoras trust, they’re together again and she has new support in the form of Glimmer and Bow and returning support in Entrapta. Catra BREAKS the cycle and only then, ONLY then does she start to get what she truly wanted.

Acceptance. Love. Friendship. All she wanted and in the end she is deserving of all of them.

#blackdagger 456 #shera #she ra and the princesses of power #catra #catra shera #lets talk #rant #salt #analysis #spop #spop catra #shera 2018 #catradora

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kyovtani · 3 years

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Bodyguard!Kawa who teases you and flirts with you without realising how much it affects your cute little body. Until one day you go to him, begging for him to follow through with his teasing promises.

okay nonie this lit just had my corruption kink lights go OFF pls- this is so delicious I LOVE IT HERE–

— cw: corruption kink, teasing, kawa mocks your whimpers, light hard dom!kawa, clit play

when oikawa first starts working for your father, it's not his job to look after you. he's there for your mother and most of the time he's supposed to be with your dad but after a while, he finds himself at your door and by your side.

he doesn't question it, he just knows your father wants you to be safe and trusts him the most, which is why he chose him, of all guards. and to say that oikawa enjoys being (one of) your personal bodyguard(s) is an understatement.

in the beginning, he flirts with you every now and then, knowing that none of his fellow colleagues are going to rat him out to the boss because everyone knows what a big flirt he is.

as time goes by, his flirting turns more and more suggestive and oikawa begins to become a lot bolder the more confident he gets. the only reason for this being the fact that he found out about your lack of satisfaction from your most recent little boy-toy.

he knows you're not the most experienced, only having had a couple of boyfriends before and only a few of them actually getting to touch.

but oikawa is also very much aware of just how naughty you are. he's got a few glimpses of your little twitter account which is basically filled with rather hardcore porn. who can blame him, though? it's not like you're being subtle about it anyway.

you always leave your door room open a little, as if you wanted Oikawa to hear your little moans and whiny begs as you touched yourself in broad daylight, not giving two fucks about all the security guards in your house.

and as the weeks fly by, tooru finds himself growing more and more aroused by the mere sight of your face. you're just so sweet, so kind, you look so innocent and pure but it's because nobody knows about all those little toys in your drawer, the ones you like to stuff your tiny little cunt with almost every night of the week.

but Oikawa knows. he knows how badly you want- no, need someone to fuck you properly.

and after getting to know you for quite a while, Oikawa also knows exactly what to say to get you all riled up. and even though you like to act as if it doesn't affect you, both of you are very well aware of how badly you usually ruin your little lacy panties whenever he teases you.

his favorite thing to do is annoy you with the fact that none of your boyfriend has ever made you cum, something he heard you saying to your best friend on the phone and his absolute favorite fact to exist ever since.

he wants to get you all worked up to the point where you can't take one single breath without thinking of him and his fat cock.

and it doesn't take much for him to do, either. he's got you wrapped around his finger after all.

"been starring at my cock all day, angel baby", he hums, his pretty lips stretched into a shit-eating grin as he catches your gaze drop down to his clothed crotchf for the nth time, "is it because you know it's bigger than any of the little boy toy-cocks you've had or is it because you want it inside your little pussy, hm?"

you whimper at his words. not only those, but also his attitude, his cockiness, his confidence and that stupidly pretty face- all of these things make it so much harder for you to keep your composure.

but you remain strong. most of the time.

however, after weeks and weeks of ongoing teasing, you can't keep it together any longer.

tooru, who's basically always ready to tease and annoy you, can't help but look at you with big eyes and parted lips when you come to stand in front of his door at three in the morning. tear stained cheeks, pouty lips, soft sobs and thighs tightly pressed together– a sight tooru never knew he needed this badly until now.

"p-please, 'kawa", you cry softly, your voice a mere whisper as you look up at him, "please fuck me. take my pussy, make it yours, stuff it full of your cum- i don't care, just please make the pain go away."

"does it hurt, angel girl? does your cute little cunt hurt?", oikawa whispers, taking your soft face into his big hands, the cold metal of his rings burning against your heated skin.

you start nodding hastily, sobbing even heaver when he suddenly pushes his leg in between yours, pressing his strong thigh right against your barely covered cunt.

oikawa can't stop the loud moan from escaping his throat at the feeling of your throbbing pussy, the wet spot on your little panties slowly growing in its size and before he even gets to say anything, you start grinding against him.

"i need you, 'kawa", you whisper and bury your face in the crook of his neck, inhale his heavy scent, a mixture of mint and cigarette smoke, "i'm all yours."

"say it, again, pretty girl", oikawa grunts, pushing the leaking tip of his thick cock against your throbbing clit, watching your juices dribble out of your little hole with amusement gleaming in the brown of his eyes, "i want to hear yyou say it."

you gulp harshly, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as the arousal sets your body on fire, your head spinning with such fast pace, you struggle to breathe properly.

"i'm your d-desperate little cockslut, 'kawa", you whimper, nervously wrapping your fingers around his delicate wrist in hopes of getting him to slide his fat cock into your spasming hole, "want you to fuck me stupid, just like you promised."

at the sound of oikawa's deep chuckle filling the tension-filled space of his room, you can't help but let out a choked out moan, looking at you with heavy lidded eyes.

"y-y-y-yes you are, angel baby", he teases you, pushing his lips into a fake pout as he has you look into his eyes, lining himself up with your sopping wet entrance, "and now i'm going to show you how pretty little sluts like you deserve to be fucked."

and as he slowly pushes his cock into your tight cunt, stretching your poor little hole out and basically splitting you into half to the point where the first waves of your orgasm hit when he's only halfway in, oikawa sits back and watches the way you finally cum for him and him only.

#haikyuu smut #hq!! smut #hq smut #oikawa smut #oikawa tooru smut #haikyuu x reader #💌.anons

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imaslutforremusandsirius · 3 years

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Oo a jealous punishment regulus smut? Or a teasing regulus one?

Jealous

Hope you enjoy it babe, i tried to include them all in one🥴

Warning: 18+

---

„Reg, we were just joking around. It‘s not that serious!“

Ignoring you he kept walking towards the Slytherin dorms. You hesitated when he went through, but quickly made up your mind running after him.

„Regulus!“, you called, frustrated with his childish actions.

He just slammed his door shut and left you there. In the middle of the hallway.

„Fine act like a child! But don‘t come crawling to me when you need someone to fuck you!“

The Slytherins around you gasped, already gossiping if you really were the one dominating the relationship, but you didn‘t stay any longer to hear the rest.

Your mood was sour after that incident. You took it out on everyone, until Lily cheered you up a little. Sirius of course made it his mission to annoy his little brother any chance he got, like floating his food or firing peanuts into his water cup. You were still wondering where he got the peanuts from.

Regulus‘ resolve was slipping, but he held himself back. He would punish you later for your disobedience.

---

Doing your rounds in the hallways you tried to distract yourself, but your mind kept playing the mental image of Regulus giving you the ‚You fucked up‘ look. God, the way he stared at you during dinner, his eyes blazing with rage, jaw pressed tightly together. You just wanted to crawl on your knees and apologize. And suck him off.

„Where are your little friends? No Sirius to avenge you?“

You swirled around startled, looking at Regulus. God he looked so good in his green-silver robes, black hair neatly styled. The way he stood, like he owned the fucking castle and everyone in it. The air around him screamed Noble House of Black.

„What the fuck are you talking about?“

Regulus smirked, clicking his tongue.

„What have I told you about cussing, love?“

You snorted, crossing your arms on your chest.

„What makes you think I‘ll listen to anything you say?“

Regulus let out a small laugh, fingers flexing at his sides and he crossed his arms behind his back. Fuck, the way he‘s standing.

„Last I checked you were still my little girl.“

„Maybe I should be calling you that, considering the way you were acting last night.“

Regulus smug expression changed in seconds, mouth pressing into a thin line.

„Careful“, he barked out, „you don‘t want to go there.“

„Or what little boy? You gonna go running to mommy?“

That was a low blow and you knew it, but you were so fucking angry and horny and just wanted a reaction. Anything. You wanted him to break you. To lose himself in you and give into his rage for once in his goddamn life.

„Seems like I made a poor job in disciplining you. Lets change that.“

„Fuck you, don‘t think I‘ll break that easy Reggie.“

„I‘d be disappointed if you did. Put up a fight slut, it‘s more fun this way.“

He was walking in your direction with every word, the distance between you rapidly shortening.

„Oh really? Sirius didn‘t take so long in breaking me down, but I doubt that you have his skills...“, you taunted, a haughty smile dancing on your pretty lips.

Regulus halted at the mentioning of his older brother. His eyes narrowed and he finally closed the distance, shoving you against the wall. His eyes bore into yours, fixing you with a firey glare.

„If any other name besides mine comes out of your whore mouth, I‘ll fuck you right infront of the entire castle to see.“

Seeing the effect of his words on you he kept talking, angry eyes making you melt.

„I‘ll tie you up and fuck you right in front of my brother. That will teach him to stay the fuck away from what belongs to me!“

Now you understood why he was acting the way that he did yesterday. He thought that Sirius was trying to take you away.

„What the hell are you implying“, you said, willing it to come out strong, but it sounded more like a moan. You couldn’t help it, the way his hard on was pressing against your lower belly.

„He had his filthy hands all over you little girl. Don‘t you see the way he acts around you? He wants you all for himself!“

You would have laughed if you wouldn’t have been busy trying to keep your moans in as he bit at your jaw, grinding his cock against your belly. You could hardly tell him that Sirius was mental about a certain tall werewolf in his house.

„Maybe I‘m the one who needs to be taught a lesson...“, you breathed, lashes fluttering as you looked up at him.

„Don‘t expect me to stop.“

That was all he said before he turned you around to press your front against the brick wall. His ringed fingers came down on your ass in hard spanks, rings leaving imprints of ,RAB‘s and snakes on your flesh. You bit your lip, pressing your burning cheek against the cold wall to calm yourself. Pained whines escaped your raw lips when he pushes your skirt and underwear down, the rough material dragging against your sore skin.

„Quiet. I don‘t want a single sound. You‘ve said enough already.“

His fingers were hot against you wet cunt, slipping inside of you easily.

„Can‘t believe this turns you on. Was it the bit about me fucking you infront of the school or infront of my brother? Might try it out..“

Ypu cried out when he curled his fingers, spreading your legs with his feet. Crouching behind you he put both of his hands on your ass, spreading you open and put his face right between you thighs. His tongue lapped against your folds, finding your clit. Sealing his lips around it he locked his jaw, sucking on your clit until you were riding his face. The pain of his palms against your bruised skin mixed with the pleasure of his tongue and your knees buckled, barley able to support your body weight.

Pulling back he stood up, deliviring five quick slaps on your clit this time when you protested and your pussy clenched with the sensation.

„Regulus“, you breathed, „please!“

He was fumbling with his belt, metal clinking as it fell on the floor.

„Now you‘re begging? I thought I didn‘t have my brothers skills?“

You whined again, turning around to snake your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. One leg wrapped around his hip, tugging until he fell forward, holding himself up with his palms on the wall beside your head.

„Reg, I‘m sorry I just said it to rile you up. Please just make me cum!“

He caressed your jaw as you spoke, pouting with faux empathy. He surged forward to bite your bottom lip hard, gripping your other leg to secure it around his waist.

„You cum when I say so little girl. Anything else and I‘ll leave you like this.“

With that he fucked you hard and fast against the wall, hips mercilessly pounding into you. His pubic bone was dragging against you clit, lips on the sweet spot on your neck.

„Fuck want to feel you deeper“, Regulus groaned, pulling out to sit on the ground.

„Sit on my cock“

You nearly came with those words alone, his raspy voice making you weak as you positioned yourself above his cock. Pulling you down hard by your shoulders, he held you down, fucking up into your cunt. Your eyes rolled back, no spund escaping your lips as you could only hold on for dear life. Pushing you on your back he put your legs on his shoulders and that position did for you. He was so deep that the tip of his cock pressed against your sweet spot with every thrust.

„Reg- ah please please please mor- Regulus!“

Thats all you could say. Your hands gripped his biceps as you mewled and whimpered. „Regulusregulusreg- please please wanna cum!“

Your broken cries made him go harder, sweat forming on his forehead and he leaned all the way forward until your knees were resting on the floor beside your ears.

„Hold it little girl.“

You sobbed, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as you neared your climax with every push of his hips.

He was moaning too now, biceps flexing with the effort of keeping himself up and his cock twitched inside of you, veins rubbing against your walls.

„So full so full please“, you begged, „too much plea-“

„Cum then slut“, Regulus sneered, voice breaking as well now, „show me that I broke you!“

With his hand on your clit and cock deep in your pussy you came hard, squeezing him so tight he came only seconds later inside of you.

„God, yes take my cum...fuuuck.“ His voice was only a whisper against your ear, as he kept grinding and fucking you slowly. As if to make sure that his cum got everywhere.

„Don‘t you ever test my patience again, little one. Next time I‘ll make them watch.“

#regulus black smut #regulus black #regulus x you

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gaiuswrites · 3 years

Text

Ashore

Part one | Open Waters

Pairing: Frankie Morales x fem!Reader

Summary: You and Frankie leave the beach with only one thing on your minds.

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 3.6k~

Warnings/tags: smut, ✨butt stuff✨, oral (f receiving), some lovey-dovey shit

Notes: Here we are friends. You don’t necessarily have to read Open Waters to understand the contents of this chapter (considering it’s mostly just booty bumpin’). You can thank heathens @javierpcna and @whataperfectwasteoftime for the debauchery to follow. It’s been a while since I’ve written and I’m genuinely nervous to post this lol but alas. We have arrived. Is it shit? Is it pure filth? Who’s to say hehehe. Cheers bebes x

Masterlist | read it on ao3!

The worst part was, you had to get gas.

Frankie drives. You sit beside him.

The return trip is hushed with anticipation—with sullied stain-glass imagery occupying the void. You've said next to nothing since you packed into the car; the only noise comes from the radio—the preset station phasing in and out as you wind along the backroads leading away from the shore—Journey, Jimi, Led Zep and the like all crackling dry through the speakers.

Everything, each micro-movement, feels stifling— like burning ants under a magnifying glass— each gesture riddled with intention, Frankie’s words echoing clear in the caverns of your mind.

He glances left right at an intersection.

‘Anything?’

He flips on the turn signal, blinking one two one two one two.

‘You gonna let me have your tight little ass?’

He steers the wheel with the heel of his palm.

‘When I cum, it’s gonna be here—filling you up.’

The engine rumbles as you idle at a red light—stalling. Dawdling. The sun spills lazily from the horizon, draining the last of the afternoon’s light with it, bleeding the sky scarlet—emboldening the horizon— and you watch as the setting glow catches the hair on his arm—there, resting on the console between you. His hand fists over the gear, knuckles creasing as they tense around the worn, leathered head. You’re playing a game—a silent, ruleless game. You know he can sense you observing him, can feel the heat of your gaze weigh on the flex of his fingers—the same fingers that had ripped an orgasm out of you not two hours before.

You almost unbuckle your damn seatbelt and fly out of your chair. You nearly break with it, with the unspoken tension filling the car like gas and fuck, how you crave him; how you yearn to put those fingers in your mouth and suck—lave the summer clean off his digits and bob around the long width and—

The light turns green.

Frankie resumes his hand to the wheel, your lewd fantasy dissipating along with it.

It’s minuscule. You would have missed it save the fact that you’re so acutely aware of every fucking breath you two share in the aluminum confines of your old Jeep. It’s a subtle thing: Frankie adjusts his hips— innocent enough— but your eyes flicker over to find the groin of his drying swim trunks tented.

You’re not ashamed to say it— your mouth fucking waters, you salivate— and as if on cue, he squirms again, seeking relief from both the blood rushing south and the blister of your stare. His lips part— the rasp of an inhale as he prepares to speak—before his focus is torn down to the dashboard, an orange symbol popping up in the gauge stealing his attention.

“Shit,” Frankie mumbles under his breath. Looking around, he scans for a nearby station and groans at the realization that he’s just passed one, spotting it in the rearview mirror. “Shit.”

You swivel towards the passenger side window, attempting to hide the I told you so expression pulling wry at your mouth. Not that you’ll hang it over him, but you did inform Frankie that the tank was empty on the way to the beach. You hear another muffled curse come from the man beside you, and the world goes topsy-turvy and reverses itself— the act of Frankie making a grumbled U-turn.

He puts the gear into park with a huff, Van Halen’s solo abruptly cut short mid chord.

The car door opens with a rusty squeal and Frankie clambers out, fishing his wallet from his back pocket and swiping his card through the reader at the pump—but not before he squeezes a palm into the plush of your thigh, thumb searing like a brand into your skin. I’ll be quick.

Fuck, you could have cum right then.

Your gaze follows his movements, dogging after him as he waits on the gas to fill— arms folded across his chest, strong build leaning on the frame of your car.

It’s not a novel concept to you, but God is that man broad. The ratty t-shirt he wears clings to him, pulled taut between the plane of his shoulders, the cut of his tricep apparent even from your vantage point; the corded muscle running up his neck flashing as he watches the digital numbers on the screen tick higher.

Shit, you’re aching for him— you can feel yourself throb into the crotch of your swimsuit. You’d have him right here—in the backseat, steaming up the glass— if it weren’t for the overencumbered bags and rickety beach chairs crowding the space.

With herculean effort, you wrench your eyes off him in search of a distraction, letting them drift to the dark flooring of the car. It’s been dirtied—white flecks speckling the interior—and you won’t be able to get the sand out of the matted carpets for weeks. It’s a nuisance, to be sure, but you have to admit that you’re sort of fond of it; little memories, vestiges in the grains, lingering long after the season ends.

Hello, remember me? each granule chirped, remember when we laughed giddy for hours, maddened by the grace of the sun? Remember when we burned red that time we forgot sunscreen? Remember when we bought soft serve from the surf shack and it globbed sticky down our wrists? Remember when we when we when when when…

Frankie, ever practical, hates it. It’s a pain in the ass, he’s told you, regaling you with the woes only a mechanic would care to know. It ruins the upholstery.

You’ve had your exchanges about the topic—your faux-squabbled back and forths—and yet despite himself, he can’t help but like that you like it. Conceptually, he gets it—it annoys him to kingdom fucking come and he’ll almost certainly take the vacuum to the mats first thing tomorrow, but he understands. He understands it.

He understands you.

You’re like that, you and him. You’re different. You are made of different things, a compository of fractures and fragments. Mosaic tiles. You don’t quite fit—not all of you—but you never force the pieces into any sort of place. You admire each other’s mismatched bits, those sweetly quilted jigsaws, and you hold each one up to the light and point at the unique curves, the notches and swoops there, and say I love you, I love this, I love this too.

When Frankie keys up the ignition and puts the car in drive, he keeps his hand on your lap. Arm resting over the median dividing you, calloused palm sealing over your quad, his fingertips knead a pulse into the meat of your leg with each bump in the poorly paved road— a reminder. A vow. Almost home.

You think he does it just to torture you.

It fucking works.

The sound of laughter parts the front door as you enter— Frankie had made some colorful comment about your absolute favorite neighbors, the ones who always leave their damn garbage bins in front of your driveway— and your key ring clatters as it hits the bowl on the side table.

You discard the bags, plopping the sandy things down in the entryway, and kick off your sandals— bare soles padding along lacquered wood paneling as you head to the kitchen for some much needed water.

The sound of the tap running camouflages Frankie’s movement, you don’t hear him behind you. He’s got stealth in him, harbored there from before. He’s light on his feet when he chooses to be—nimble-like, bordering on feline—and you startle with a bubbly chuckle when you spin around to discover him far closer than you anticipated.

“What are you doing?”

“Keeping us hydrated,” you grin, as if it were obvious. You’re welcome.

He hums, the note rumbling against the cage of his ribs, and lessens the distance between you with a single stride. “That can wait.”

He rids you of the glasses, hurriedly placing them on the counter, and meets you in a kiss—and fuck can that man kiss. Frankie, like with all things, is responsive—attentive. His lips are fever-laced and wanton, and he roves against yours like they’re designed to— fated for no one else’s but your own— nipping and tonguing at your honeyed whines, orphaned there in the well of your mouth.

His hands vine up your body, so deprived of the luxury of your form - of touch - and he grabs at anything he can— your hips, your waist, your breasts through the cotton of your shirt— their half moon curves sitting ripe in his palms.

After ushering you up to the countertop, he strips you of your jean shorts, your bikini bottom sloughing down your calves along with them, and hoists your feet onto the fake granite, prying your legs wide for him.

When he gets an eyeful of your gleaming pussy, pearled with arousal, the wind gets punched straight out of him.

“Jesus honey,” he groans, “you been like this the whole ride home?”

Your brain is numb, lagging with lust. You don’t trust your voice to speak—all you can do is nod.

“Poor thing,” he simpers. “Poor pretty thing, all wound up for me—all wet.”

You whimper at his tone—graveled, just shy of condescending—and your knees weaken shut before he snatches them apart.

“Sit still.”

It’s a command, there’s no room for disobedience; he orders it with a soldier's voice—that dead thing he wears like dog tags around his neck. Vice grip widening your legs, Frankie sinks down onto his shins, head leveled with your core, engrossed with the sight of your damp sex quivering.

Blotchy warmth creeps up your neck, like ivy crawling over brick.

He’s staring at you— hungry and possessed and simply staring at your open cunt and you begin to fidget once more—riling under his umbered appraisal.

“Sit still baby girl,” he murmurs, softer now and desperate too—intoxicated with the heady perfume of your heat. “Lemme just— fuck, I gotta taste you…”

When he swipes the deft muscle of his tongue through your slit, your head careens back onto the cabinets, plates and bowls rattling behind the wood.

Oh god, Frankie.

He’s got a talent for this— an excruciating, body wracking talent. He thirsts for you something dangerous, something unquenchable; he tugs at your labia, forming his lips around your clit, lapping at your essence— the ocean musk, that sea foam wet.

You fumble through his hair, mussing the saline woven strands with urgent fingers as you grind grind grind, rolling your hips to meet him in a covetous show of want and he purrs into your pussy as you fuck his face, the scratch of his stubble chafing at your legs.

It doesn’t take long, not with the fervor of how he’s claiming your cunt with his mouth. You soak Frankie’s chin— you nearly fucking drown him with it—and he’s glistening with you when he finally emerges for air, pulling you to him to slant his lips against yours, letting you savor your own taste on his hot tongue.

“Bedroom. Now,” he husks, breath hitching as his nose grazes along your ear, and with two hands under your armpits, he gathers you off the countertop. Frankie lands a swat at the plump of your backside, sending you scurrying through the living room with a shriek—completely bypassing the abandoned pile of laundry left lying on the couch.

He smirks—delirious and ramrod stiff—sauntering behind you, enamored with the pendulum sway of your hips as you lead him to the bed.

You’ve never been here. You’ve never gone this far. You both have tiptoed this narrow line for months; he’s fingered your ass plenty—you have even gone so far as to don a butt plug. You’ve discussed anal—toyed with the idea, flirted in circles around it like tittering birds.

But you’ve never taken Frankie’s cock. Not yet.

He’s been working you loose and limber for the better part of fifteen minutes, delving himself knuckle deep into your slicked hole until you’re sputtering for more— until you’re downright sopping and fucking shaking— and not with trepidation but with desire. Frankie’s made you gluttonous. Frankie’s made you voracious.

You’re starving for him.

“You gonna let me have this now?” He presses a digit over your ass, kissing his thumb into the knot there.

You tremble, nodding frantic.

“Think this pretty little ass can take me, baby?”

He serves you a slap, plush skin jiggling and pricking pink under his palm. You keen into him, in search of the promise he’s been baiting you with and you arch your hips, gyrating back onto fucking nothing.

“Yes. Yes—” You twist, chin corkscrewed around to see him. You want to watch. You want to watch as he disappears inside you— as you swallow him.

“A-Are you sure?” he asks, suddenly gone gentle around the lines fraying from his eyes—those wrinkles he’s hard-earned and won, like badges, like medals—from all his years spent under an unforgiving sun, all of that which he has seen and endured. Survived. Your Frankie, always thoughtful, always checking. A goddamn gentleman, even now—even as his dick brays hard and angry against the soft of his tawny stomach. “Because really, we don’t have to—”

You cut him off with a whimper, splaying your pelvis up to him—spreading yourself, letting him see the filth dripping from your seam, dappling your inner thighs. “Fuck me,” you whine, both holes puckering for him. “Fill me up, like you said you would— please.”

Something shifts across his features like a shadow and his expression morphs until it steels— his pupils dilating to a predatorial onyx— and he spits into his palm, coating his shaft, jerking himself with it.

He hisses as he guides himself into you, as you accommodate around him, as you envelop him entirely— inch by veritable inch. He has to station a hand to the base of your lumbar, struggling to maintain his composure—air rattling in and out his lungs as he attempts to breathe.

“Shit,” he gasps, “t-this okay?”

You fist the comforter, coiling the fabric into a ball. It’s a stretch— it’s a real goddamn stretch— and briefly you consider that he might, in fact, snap you in two...

Francisco Morales is going to split you clean in half—and God, if you don’t you love it.

“Yes - yes baby - keep going. D-Don’t stop.”

He pitches into you, setting a legato tempo— transfixed by the lurid juncture where you converge into one. “You- you’re so tight. Shit, you’re—”

He silences himself with a delicious moan, biting at his lower lip until the vessels there burst and it purples, and deals a particularly aggressive thrust— one you respond to with an ugly wail of your own, eyes somersaulting in their sockets.

You’re both impatient, verging on rabid, and it doesn’t take long for him to set a rougher pace and fuck you faster - harder - hammering into your ass until you see stars, popping and fizzing in front of your retinas, a symphony of guttural grunts and carnal praise fogging up the bedroom.

Your pussy feels so empty you could cry—weeping and gaping and fluttering for him as he takes your tight ring of muscle, fucking himself to the hilt. It’s like he’s behind your brain—like he’s carved his way up your spine and nudging at the nape of your neck with how deep he’s driving into you—restless. Ceaseless. His balls slap slap slap against your puffy cunt and you pant— girlish and buoyant with the dulled smacks to your sore clit.

“Please,” you sob, “Please, I need—”

You can barely push the words out—your mind is of no help and your tongue lolls useless, languid in your mouth. Your motor functions have all but puttered to a halt, every scrap of you fighting to stay above the sensation that’s threatening to drag you under its current. The rip tide of it all, of Frankie’s cock, coursing through your ass, tempting to hurdle you out into the dark, wet blue.

“Tell me,” Frankie rasps, scraping through his throat. “Tell me, pretty baby.”

Your response is pathetic—you can hardly dignify it as a response at all. Your temple is pressed into the mattress, hair knotted with brine and sand, and all you can do is coo.

Frankie folds over you, angling himself to graze his teeth over your shoulder—savoring the salt and sex tang bathing your skin, all those pheromones and velveteen chemicals anointing you—baptizing you anew for him. He’s gruff when he murmurs, his beard grating your freshly tanned skin.

“C’mon sweetheart - hng, fuck - what do you need?”

“My clit,” you rush out, needy. “My clit. Please, oh my god Frankie I-I need you to, I need – oh fuck—” And your pleas are mummed by a rapturous moan as he trails his hand from the hollow of your hip to the apex of your cleft and flicks.

Fuck. Fuck, oh Christ—

There’s a ringing in your ears, buzzing you deaf, making you dumb—or maybe it’s just your heart, beating loud and errant against your skull—you can’t say. You don’t feel human. Frankie’s pounding into that cinched channel and playing with your clit—swiveling eddies into your swollen nub—and you feel like an animal. You feel debased. You feel disgusting and perfect and you’re fucking drooling; cheek squished and mouth agape, saliva pools from your wagging maw, darkening the white linen you’re being driven into.

“You need me in your pussy, too?”

He doesn’t wait for you to answer him— he already knows what you need, how you need to have every part of you gorged on him— and Frankie dips his fingertips into your entrance, hooking them up and up and in, fucking in time to the cant of his hips.

He’s in you. Everywhere, everywhere—every possible neuron and synapse consumed with him.

“You need me like this—fucking you this deep? Fucking both your pretty holes?” he growls, weaving his hand lower to grab a fistful of your hair, rucking your head up. Throat stretched bare for him, your mewls muddle to cock-drunk cries as he spears you on himself again and again and again.

Yes yes yes fuck harder please please Frankie

You're pleading with him—you’ve been reduced to meager begging— and a chorus of slurs sings your release as you contract around him and cum, the cradle of your hips bucking reflexively.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he seethes, “you’re so good for me baby, Jesus fuck—”

He’s close now—his blissed finish drawing nearer and nearer with each sharp snap of his hips. Frankly, he’s shocked he’s managed to last as long as he has; it’s a small miracle he hadn’t cum the instant he slotted himself inside you with that very first stroke.

“Baby,” he warns, losing his rhythm. You saddle your spine, hollowing out the valley of your back and arch pretty and supple for him— preening under his weight. He moans at that, and through your fucked out haze you have the wherewithal to smirk at him, devious and prideful, a wild look owning your eye.

Frankie has to brace himself on your hips, untangling from your locks to bruise into the pillow of your skin— gripping on for dear fucking life as he plows you. You’re strangling him. You’re strangling the thick of his cock until he’s dizzy with it—until he’s feral and blind and he can’t hold on, can’t keep fighting this fucking monsoon that’s raging in his core.

“Baby, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna—fuck me, oh shit—” He shouts, spurting inside you thrust for thrust, painting your virgin walls with his seed. It’s too much— after all that, and you’re still too tight— and he’s overstimulated to the point of delirium. Frankie roots himself still, cum dribbling out your stuffed hole while he rides out the high of his orgasm—his vision, his senses, his goddamn soul, slowly oozing back into him. When he slides free from you, he does so with a pained heave, leaving you yawning with his absence.

You feel shredded. Vacant. You’ve been sent to another fucking dimension all together.

Without wasting another second, Frankie claws you up. You’re easy and malleable, bones and muscles too strung out to protest, and he whirls you around to bar you to his chest—crushing your sweaty body to his with bullet marred arms— the same arms that have taken lives, that have spared them, too. The same arms that link around you, delicate and daisy-chained, like you’re the most precious thing he has.

And you are.

You are.

Frankie kisses you breathless, drinking rich from your cup— tongue greedy and reverent as he kneels there at your altar, praying his sins into your mouth.

So gorgeous, he croons, peppering your face—your flushed cheeks, your perspired brow—with his lips as he tells you over and over and over again.

So good for me, pretty baby

Was that okay?

Fuck, you’re a dream

You’re my best girl—you’re my only girl

Was that okay?

God, you’re my whole fucking world

Was that okay? Was I okay?

Are you okay?

You swoon, helpless to the contented sigh that seeps out from you like mist. You’ve gone limp against the breadth of him. He has reduced you to rubber, left wobbling in his grasp, and you’re so damn full—your heart and your body—all of it. You feel unequivocally complete. You feel safe, you feel home.

You are home. Francisco is home.

He’s flattening out the nest of your hair, taming the damage he previously delivered to it, earning from you a sleepy grin into the muggy crook of his neck. And with the last of your waning strength you hold his pieces up to the light—the light you left on in the hall as the night grew dark around you, the one who’s yellow glow your naked bodies bask in now, and you say

I love you

I love this

I love this too

tags:

@krissology @heartsofbeskar @madhattervanessa @andiesturgss @sharkbait77 @tenderwhat @javier-pena @pedros-mustache @frannyzooey @chasingdreamer @djarinsbeskar @thosewickedlovelies @juletheghoul @not-the-droids @filthybookworm @pilothusband @letterfromvienna @keeper0fthestars @greatcircle79 @day-off-inkyoto @mermaidxatxheart @lawfulgranola @heatherbel @quica-quica-quica @stuckonthefiction @janesbrontes

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x fem!reader #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales #francisco catfish morales #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfic #Frankie morales fanfic #Frankie catfish morales x reader #frankie x you #frankie x reader

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starconsumer444 · 3 years

Text

Anniversary (18+)

Kenma x Male!Reader

A/N: Turns out that hiatus isn't permanent, so I'm back with my really shitty writing! I'll start taking requests again too (but I'm going to be slow at doing them and I probably won't get to all of them lol) <3

(CW/TW: Top!Reader, Dom!Reader, Sadist!Reader, Kidnapper!Reader, The reader is literally evil personified ;P, Kidnapping, Spit, RAPE/NONCON, FORCED FEMINIZATION [Kenma gets referred to as princess and his asshole is referred to as a cunt, needless to say... he doesn't like it], Blood [it's a nosebleed], hitting, crying, a lot of bad things??? disassociation??? this is... yeah... I tried...)

“I don’t want to hurt you.” That’s what you say, but Kenma can still feel the dull ache in his nose. “You’re too beautiful to hurt, you know?” You coo, lifting his chin with your index, forcing his eyes to meet yours. They’re puffy, red, and filled with hate. You smile and Kenmas stomach is in knots. His mind is telling him to run, but there’s nowhere to go, is there?

Trying to run is the reason blood is flowing so freely from his nose, down his chin, and on to the white dress you forced him into this morning. The bow around the dress— it’s pulled too tight. He’s undone the knot three times today, but every time you come and pull it back around his waist somehow tighter than the last time every...single...fucking...time.

Tears start to well up in his eyes again and when the first one starts to fall you let him drop his head. He’ll be past all this crying soon, he just has to get used to it or you’ll beat it out of him; whichever comes first.

He curls into himself, smearing blood and tears all into the skirt of the dress that surrounds him.

Beautiful, you think.

“I hate you.” It’s small, it’s quiet, it’s weak, it’s not worthy of a response— not yet— at least. You ignore it. You’ll let him have that one.

You're merciful enough to let him cry on the floor between your legs as you flip through channels on the couch. You’re looking for something specific, something that will really help commemorate this as your one month anniversary.

Needless to say, you find it, right on time.

He lifts up suddenly, as if controlled by strings like a puppet, wiping tears from his eyes and turning to face the tv. He hears her voice and tears won't stop falling. They can’t stop falling when he sees his distraught mother on television crying about her son who’s been missing for a month. They can’t stop falling when he sees all his fans with candles holding prayer circles and praying for his safe return. They can’t stop falling when he sees his old friend, Kuroo, holding his shattered mother in a tight hug.

None of the words from the news broadcast register. He just sees people crying and holding each other. He sees candles lit for him. He sees flyers of his missing face being handed out. Then it’s over as quickly as it started, with the reporter coming back into frame and passing it off to one of her coworkers.

He turns to you with a new type of rage boiling inside of him and surfacing on his face. He’s up on his knees, perfectly manicured hands grasping at the fabric covering your thighs, brows furrowed, and finally looking you in the eye of his own volition. It’s the first time in a while it looks like he’s really seeing you.

What is he going to do?, You wonder.

“You know better than to hit me, don’t you?”

Surely he knows what will happen, he’s tried it several times since you’ve had him and not once has it ended positively for him.

His hands are gripping the fabric of your sweats, twisting at it with a certain fury that tells you he wants to hurt you. He does this a lot— it’s as if he has to muster up the courage to carry out such a fruitless action.

His body feels like he’s in a burning house. He can’t take this mocking. He can’t take this abuse. He can’t do it anymore. You’re watching him burn and not letting him leave or even trying to put the fire out. He wants to go home. He wants to hug his mom and tell her he’s alright. He’s tired of this.

“Please, let me call her.” He talks with a tight jaw, anger seething through clenched teeth. His head falls with his tears wetting his hands and your sweatpants. “Please let me call her. I want to go home so bad. Please.”

“No.”

And that’s all it takes.

“I fucking hate you!” and before he can even think to hurt you, he’s already down. All it takes is one good slap to the face and he’s back to his senses. His hands free the fabric he was holding on to for dear life.

He knows where he’s at. He knows he can’t win.

He lays arms crossed in your lap, sobbing. His body is wracked with shivers periodically as you stroke his hair.

“Pretty girls don’t act like this, you know.”

I’m not a girl, He thinks to himself. He’s far too gone to assert himself in any way right now.

“It’s okay to hate me. I still love you even if you do hate me.”

Kenma can’t stand that softness in your voice. You’re too good at playing the good guy. Anyone who wasn’t in his position would be inclined to fall for your fake prince charming bullshit. Is that how a psychopath like you gets by? You pretend to be soft spoken and harmless then hurt people when no one else can see you.

“You’re sick.”

“I know, it’s okay.”

You let him cry like that for ten minutes. You let him curse you under his breath (where he should keep it if he doesn’t like getting hurt), you let him get it all out. He even quietly begs for his mom and you can’t help but to think about how cute he is.

You pull him up by the back of his hair. Kenmas only got more beautiful since he’s been with you; you didn’t think it was possible. With drying blood and tears everywhere he’s mesmerizing. Even with your hands locked in his hair, this feels too good to be real.

He’s not looking at you, his eyes are unfocused, it’s more like he’s looking through you. Despite that, you pull him in for a kiss, blood and tears still fresh on his face. Of course, he doesn’t kiss back, but for once he doesn’t resist. It’s a small victory.

Now there's a growing tent under the surface of your sweats.

You let him go and pat the wide space on the couch beside you, “Get up here.”

Kenma shakes his head and backs away from you.

“Please let me go.” He pushes his body further away the moment you stand to tower over him. Then he’s turning and slipping on the skirt of the dress in his panicked rush to get away from you. He knows what’s going to happen and he wants no part in it.

You lift him with ease and slam him down onto the couch. Not once does he stop fighting you. He’s yelling for help and for you to stop. He’s kicking and screaming, begging like you’re going to kill him. Doesn’t he know that no one can hear him? It’s been a month and he hasn't figured out that much? If he’s that dumb, maybe he does really need you...

Still, it’s annoying and leaves you with no choice but to wrap your hand around his small throat. He kicks you in the stomach and your only response is to squeeze harder.

The fear sets in right then and there for Kenma. He stops his flailing and looks up to you with apologetic eyes. He doesn’t want to pass out, you choked him like this when he first got here. He can’t do it again— he doesn’t want to.

His hands come up to gently hold your wrists and his eyes become more apologetic with the increased pressure.

“Are you gonna calm down or do I have to calm you down myself?”

Kenmas body goes rigid for a second, but then he realizes he has to respond. He nods. His heart feels like it might beat out of his ribcage, but he has no choice but to force himself to stay calm.

Slowly, you release your grasp on his neck and flip up his dress to reveal his clean shaven legs and white lace panties (that do little to cover his private area). Your hand strokes down the soft skin of his thigh and you can feel him tense up, “Calm down princess. You wanna make me feel good, right?”

Kenma shakes his head and recoils expecting to be hit for his honesty.

You just chuckle as he slowly realizes you’re not going to hurt him for that and settles into himself. “Cute.” You say.

“Please…” The blonde mutters out.

“Please what?”

His throat hurts and his voice is shaky, “Don’t make me do this. I can’t do this again.” It sounds like he’s about to start crying again.

It’s been a month since you did this the first time and it’s been six days since the last time.

Kenma sees that you’re lost in thought and takes it upon himself to sit up as carefully as possible so that you don’t hit him. “Let me…” He trails off slipping his soft hand under the waistbands of both your sweatpants and underwear.

His strokes are graceless. He’s shaky, unsure, and clearly has no idea how to go about this. He only feels you getting harder in his hand as he looks you in the eye’s trying to find any sign of mercy.

You smile, “You’re such a good girl, huh?”

Kenma forces himself to smile back, but his fear is more obvious. “Yeah, Imma good girl.” He nods aggressively. If it means he has any chance of getting out of this, he’ll comply without a second thought. Dignity doesn’t matter when he’s here, he’s come to understand.

He plants soft kisses up your neck and across your jaw, and still his hand never stops. He’s so precious when he’s absolutely terrified.

“Use your spit.”

Immediately he pulls his hand away from you, spits in it, and goes right back to jerking your length. He’s so bad at it, it hardly feels good.

You titter at how anxious he seems and he jumps at the sound.

“Princess…” You start, and he hums in response. “I’m still going to fuck you, you know that, right?”

His hand withdraws straight away, “Please, no.” His head rests against your chest as he pleads for mercy. “I can’t take it. I don’t like it.”

“It’s okay, you’ll learn to like it.” You feel him shake his head. “Now, lay down.” He goes without protest.

Kenma’s far away from this by now. In his head, he’s anywhere but here. Still, he feels everything happening to him and hears everything going on around him. He doesn’t miss the sensation of you sliding off those lace panties or miss your hands on his hips turning him over to lay on his stomach. He can feel your tongue gliding over his hole, but he can’t react to it. He doesn’t squirm like he usually would— just takes whatever you’re doing to him.

The first noise Kenma makes is when you slide a single spit soaked finger into him. He’ll never get used to that sensation, and it grounds him every time. You can hear him sniffle and whine just as you thought he had run out of tears or at least had given up crying for the night.

Your finger drags against the special bundle of nerves and his body convulses and he lets out a yelp, that’s when you think it’s time to put in two fingers.

Your assault on his prostate continues and he cums, but he doesn’t seem to register it all that much. His senses are clearly a bit dulled by some sort of trauma defense mechanism his brain has. It doesn’t matter to you, though. You pull your fingers out of him and lube up your length with spit before pressing into his hole.

That gets a reaction, an intense one. He’s yelling, his words are slurred, and he’s pushing back at your waist, using his hand to try to get you to get out of him. His face looks mortified, like he didn’t know this was going to happen.

You simply grab his arm and pin it behind his back. No matter how hard he fights against you, he’ll never win and will always give up.

He’s so tight, and he’s spasming around you trying to adjust.

“Ahhh- your cunt’s so perfect, just for me, huh?” You moan out.

“No! No! No!” His voice is hoarse, he’s yelling and kicking his legs. You just press your weight onto him more.

When you start to thrust, he starts to say sorry and calm down. He’s sure he did something wrong but he just doesn’t know what. He’s sure that if he apologizes this will all be over, like some horrific nightmare.

His complaints are drowned out by your moans; it's been that way every time you’ve done this.

“Fuck, baby,” You moan breathily into his ear. “You’re so tight. You were made for this.” Kenmas head falls into the wet couch cushion. “I love you so much.”

Kenma cums again, and he must feel it this time judging by the pained moan he lets out. His body jerks with the harshness of your thrusts. There’s a mixture of sounds but the most apparent are moans and the sound of skin meeting skin.

You let go of his arm opting to pull him up by his hair, when you do, he’s back to his dazed apologizing. He seems so broken, it's exhilarating. Your “I love you.” is only met with another bland “I’m sorry.” it's clear he won't remember most of this.

When you cum inside him, there’s no reaction from him. You get up, leave him limp on the couch and go take a shower. When you come back, he’s just like you left him, still breathing, but generally unresponsive. He’s a great wife.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x male reader #haikyuu smut #dark haikyuu #kenma smut #kenma x male reader #top male reader #tw: noncon #I need to get better at tagging.... one day #not today tho lol #sexy people don't know how to tag: fact

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coltsbitch · 3 years

Text

hold it ~ eren yeager x reader

eren yeager x reader; 2k; nsfw; watersports summary: only good girls get bathroom privileges

masterlist

You stumble in through the door.

“Not sure why you’re falling all over yourself even after you took off those shoes.” Eren tosses his keys on the table before walking into the kitchen.

You throw the shoes in question onto the floor before collapsing on the couch, “Tonight was so fun. We should do it again.” Your face is pressed into the cushions, unsure if Eren heard you.

But you do hear Eren picking up his keys from the table, followed by the clinking of a glass hitting the coffee table.

“Drink.”

You lift your head and pout, “I’m not thirsty.”

He rolls his eyes, “You’ll regret it in the morning.” Before heading down the hallway.

You sit up and pick up the glass, taking a sip, “When can we hang out with your friends again?”

Eren reappears, changed into a pair of sweats, a shirt in hand, “You like them that much?”

“They were funny.” You take another sip.

Eren sits down beside you, “Yeah, you really seemed to be enjoying Jean’s jokes tonight.”

You pout, hearing the jealousy laced in his tone, “But I still think your jokes are the funniest.”

Eren give you an unimpressed look, “Finish the water and pick a movie to put on.”

You smile downing the rest of the glass, knowing you’ll get cuddles if you do. You’re slightly surprised at Eren’s attitude, expecting him to say more about your behavior tonight. He clearly has some dumb competitive streak with Jean if the glares he had been sending tonight had anything to say about it.

He tosses the shirt at you and picks up the empty glass returning to the kitchen.

“Snacks too!” You call out pulling the shirt over and shimming out of your dress.

You’re about fifteen minutes into the movie, cuddled under a blanket with Eren behind you, when you realize how badly you need to pee.

The alcohol and two cups of water Eren forced you to drink aren’t doing any favors for your bladder.

“Don’t pause it.” You slide out of the blanket, “I’ll be quick.”

Eren hums in response, letting you go without ever taking his eyes of the television.

You hurry to Eren’s room where the single bathroom is connected. You go to open the door, but you find it locked.

“Babe!” You call out, trying to jiggle the doorknob, “I think the door’s locked!”

Pushing slightly, you realize the door is definitely locked. “Eren!”

You hurry back into the living room, seeing Eren hasn’t moved since you left him.

“Eren, did you hear me? Your bathroom door is locked.”

His attention doesn’t leave the television, “I heard you.”

“Well come help me, I really need to pee.” You whine.

Eren finally takes his eyes off the movie to meet yours, “Maybe you should have thought about that before acting like such a slut tonight.”

You feel your face heat up, “Eren, this isn’t funny.” You all but stomp your foot, “I really need to use the bathroom.”

“Only good girls get to use the bathroom.” He lifts the blanket, “Now be a good girl and come back and watch the movie. And maybe after it’s over you’ll get to use the bathroom.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? What the hell did I even do?”

Eren just raises an eyebrow, as if telling you not to play dumb at moment like this. But he doesn’t say anything, just stares while still gesturing to the space in front of him. Buy you can tell there’s a hesitant questioning in his eyes, letting you know to tell him if he’s going too far.

You purse your lips before stomping over, throwing yourself on the couch. Eren wraps an arm around your torso pulling you closer. You grimace when his arm presses into your bladder, but you keep your mouth shut as he nuzzles into your neck.

It helps to cross your legs tightly, the pressure somewhat pushing away the urge.

There’s no way you’re going to be able to concentrate. You hadn’t even really wanted to put on a movie in the first place, content to go to bed but Eren had insisted.

And now that you think of it, he had also been pretty pushy about finishing the two glasses of water. At first thinking it was his concern for an impending hangover, now you realize that sick fuck was probably planning this all along.

You huff trying to get comfortable, rolling over to your stomach. But Eren hauls you back against his bare chest.

The movement jostles you enough that makes it almost impossible to ignore the sensation. Causing you to cross your legs even tighter than before.

But the added pressure shoots straight to your clit, causing you to groan, in both frustration and pleasure.

Eren shushes you, running his thumb in comforting circles along your hip, as if he isn’t the reason you’re in this situation in the first place.

You’re able to hold out another twenty minutes, staying completely still with eyes closed, focusing on your breathing. Eren would think you were asleep if it wasn’t for the pinched look on your face.

He’s honestly a little impressed that you’ve kept quiet this long, unsure how you would react to all of this. But he’s pleased to see how well you’re doing, how you’re always a good girl for him.

He’s about to return his attention to the movie, not that he’s actually watching, his body thrumming impatiently with anticipation of what’s about to come, but then you let out a little whimper that sounds like his name.

“What’s that baby girl?”

“I can’t hold it anymore.” You turn in his arms so you can properly look at him. The tears in your lashes make his pants suddenly tighter than they were before. But he’s used to your tricks by now.

“I think you can.” Eren presses a kiss to your nose, “Be a good girl for me.”

A flash of anger comes over you, and you rip yourself from his grasp, sitting up on the couch, “I’m going to fucking piss myself if you don’t unlock that damn door.”

Eren resituates himself lazily, “Then do it.”

Your mouth drops at his nonchalant attitude. You’re annoyed that he’s winning this game, and you’d usually be more than fine to keep playing into it, but you really need to pee and at this point you’re not sure how much more you can last.

“Fine! You win!” You cry, “I’m sorry for what ever I did to make you mad.”

Eren tuts, “You don’t even know why you’re getting punished?”

You cross your arms and look away. You know he’s referring to the way you were indulging Jean tonight, laughing at his jokes, swatting at his shoulder with your fake laughs. All the while with an eye on Eren, seeing the fire building behind his eyes.

You thought it might result is some hot bathroom sex, but instead Eren kept his composure throughout the rest of the night, all the way home and up until now you thought he was just dismissing it.

“Because of my behavior.” You mutter out.

“And?” Eren presses.

“And because I was acting like a little whore tonight! Because I was doing it on purpose to make you mad so you would fuck me dumb, there are you happy?” You say in one breath, truly at your wits end. You don’t even care any more about this stupid game.

Eren watches you for a moment before opening his arms, you collapse into them as they come around you and fingers run up and down your back. It momentarily distracts from the pain that’s building in the lower half of your body.

“Can I please use the bathroom now?”

Eren lifts your chin with his thumb and finger, he has a small smile on his face and you mirror it, pleased with how happy he is with you.

“No.”

Your stomach drops you feel your jaw hanging open, “But I just, you said,”

“I didn’t say anything.” Eren cuts you off, “All you did is tell me why you’re a bad girl. I didn’t say that your punishment would end, did I?”

“Eren.” You whimper helplessly, “It hurts so much though.”

He hums, fingers running through your hair now, “I know it does sweetheart.”

You screw your eyes shut, tears coming out in full now, babbling about how sorry you are and how you’ll never do it again. Squirming in Eren’s lap because you still need to piss and with no end in sight to this torture, you’re unsure if you can hold it back.

“I can’t.” You shake your head back and forth against his chest, “I can’t hold it anymore.”

Eren places a gentle kiss to the top of you head, “You can, you’re doing so good for me.” The soft affection and cruel actions of his are making your head spin.

His hands slide their way down to your ass, wrapping around each thigh to pull them apart, your only solace being ripped away from you and leaving you exposed as Eren grinds his hard dick against your panty covered cunt.

You gasp and shoot up in his lap, Eren following after you. You’re trying to pull away but Eren wraps his hands around your back sliding you further into his lap.

Your eyes are wide, hips moving on their own, bodily reactions at war within yourself. You’re trying really hard to hold in the urge to release all over Eren, but he’s also moving your panties to the side, fingers playing at your clit that has you meeting his movements.

“Eren.” You warn, “I don’t think, I can’t, I’m going piss myself.”

Eren is gazing at you with such intensity, his eyes completely back, “Yeah?” He asks, “You gonna piss all over me?”

You nod your head, feeling wetter than you ever have before. Unsure if it’s your cum or piss that’s slicking up the sides of legs, dampening Eren and the couch underneath you.

Eren doesn’t slow his ministrations as he pulls down his pants, thick hard cock springing between the two of you.

You don’t even realize he’s lifting you and impaling you on his cock until you feel the sudden intrusion in yourself. All the sensations are confusing you, his fingers bringing you to the edge of pleasure but cock pressing you over the tipping your bladder can control. Your breath comes out in hiccupping pants and cries because you don’t know what to do.

Suddenly you feel your face gripped and forced to meet Eren’s stare, “You’re okay.” He says, “Let go.”

You feel yourself go rigid, and you can’t look away from Eren. His words wash over you with warmth and you know it’s going to be okay as you let yourself float away from all the pressure of trying to hold back. Your hips stutter against his, a liquid heat flowing out of you. And it’s going and going, unsure if this feeling is ever going to stop. But Eren has a sort of a smile on his face, lips moving with words you can’t hear.

You know Eren’s still thrusting into you, seeing as he’s bouncing in your vision, even if you can’t feel it with your body. Eventually his movements slow to a halt, the fingers digging into your waist feeling a little sharper. He kisses you deeply, tongue sliding aganist yours before pulling back to press small kisses on your face and along your neck.

You smile, letting your eys close, laying your face against Eren’s chest. His whispers and thump of his heart lulling you asleep.

It’s not until you feel a hot sensation envelope your entire body do you open your eyes. Except now you’re in the bathtub, Eren behind you while his hand is running a soapy cloth up your waist.

You hum in content, leaning your head back into the crook of his neck. Eren places a kiss on the side of your head, noticing you’re awake.

He hears you mumble something, “What was that?” Leaning his ear closer to your mouth.

“See you got the door open.” You mutter, a slight annoyance to your tone.

Eren chuckles, the vibrations deep in his chest rumbling against your back, “Yeah, I guess I did.”

#eren yaegar #eren yaeger x reader #eren jaeger #eren jeager x reader #eren x reader #aot x read #aot #snk #snk x reader

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sweeterthansammy · 3 years

Text

PROMPT LIST

Listed below are angst, fluff, smut, and some random/general prompts so please specify which genre(s) you would like me to write. Some of these prompts were found on Pinterest, but the majority of them are mine, as well as @babyboy-cody ‘s. Also, please, please, please ask me before using this prompt list, seeing as not all belong to me.

Angst:

“I never loved you!”

“Just leave.”

“You did this to yourself.”

“Get out of my fucking life!”

“There was no other way.”

“When were you going to tell me.”

“Get away from me.”

“I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!”

“I’m fine - stop asking.”

“I’m done trying to help you.”

“Sorry doesn’t fix everything.”

“You’re just a piece of shit who cares about no one!”

“When are you gonna learn to stop lying?”

“Are you happy now? This makes you really fucking happy, doesn’t it?”

“You said you’d always be there for me...how come you weren’t there when I fucking needed you?”

“Is this how little you think of me?”

“Just pack your shit and go. It’s the least you can do after all the pain you’ve caused me.”

“I’m never gonna love you, get that through your head.”

“Why do you hate me so much?”

“I don’t need you and I most certainly do not need this.”

“I never meant to hurt you.”

“Thanks for nothing.”

“I can’t forgive you.”

“Why can’t you love me back?”

“What did I ever do to you?”/“What have I ever done to you?”

“Can’t you see that I’m trying?”

“Do not judge my story by the chapter you walked in on.”

“I’m tired of this.”

“You’re breaking me.”

“No, I understand. Go. Leave. They always leave, it’s fine.”/”Just leave like the rest of them do.”

“You never loved me, have you?”

“What makes you think that I truly care about you or any of this?”

“Can you please be happy for me for five minutes?”

“Walk out that fucking door and we’re over.”

“I’m giving you to the count of ten. If you don’t come after me, we’re through.” (Beck and Jade vibes lmao)

“You can’t win if someone has nothing to lose.”

“Don’t come running back to me when you find your little heart broken again. Got it?”

“I’m not your goddamn babysitter.”

“All I want to do is forget. Forget that I ever met you, forget that I ever fell in love with you, forget how easy it is to get addicted to you. I just want to forget you as a whole.”

“You will never be anything.”

“You have to choose.”

“I miss your smile, your laugh, your eyes. I just...I miss you.”

“Don’t you remember?”

“I never want to see you again.”

“I can never look at you the same after that.”

“You were my everything.”

“You keep doing this and I-I carry on like we’re fine!”

“We’re not okay, stop telling yourself that we are!”

“You did this to me.”

“I’ve never hated a person any more than I do you.”

Fluff:

“I think I’m falling in love with you.”

“Shhh, it was just a bad dream. It’s okay, baby.”

“I’m here for you.”

“Your lips are so soft, I could kiss ‘em all day.”

“‘Us’...I like the sound of that.”

“You’re my sunshine, my world...I want to be with you for an eternity.”

“Am I your wallpaper?” “You weren’t supposed to see that!”

“Stay with me, please.”

“Maybe we should be more than friends.”

“I know you want me just as much as I want you.”

“My heart beats for nothing except you.”

“I couldn’t have asked for anything greater than you.”

“I don’t care if I don’t sleep tonight as long as I’m with you.”

“It just breaks my heart to see how mean people are towards you.”

“You want to try that again, asshole? That’s my boyfriend/girlfriend you’re messing with.”

“I would do anything it takes to make you feel happy and safe, I don’t care the cost.”

“I don’t care what anyone says about me, you...us.”

“I love you with all of my heart.”

“I’m never gonna let you go, don’t worry.”

“Go to sleep, you haven’t got any rest in the past few days.”

“Cuddle me?”

“Could you hold my hand?”

“You’re not leaving without giving me a hug first.”

“You’re so warm - share it with me!”

“Mom/Dad, please don’t tell him/her what I said about him/her.”

“Isn’t that my sweater?” “No, it’s our sweater.”

“I’m having your child.”

“I hate you.” “Oh, you love me.”

“Aw, did I make you blush, darling?”

“My friends get annoyed as to how much I talk about you sometimes.”

“It’s fine if you’re busy...but, would you want to get lunch with me? Even brunch is fine...of course, if you aren’t busy.”

“Have you gone soft on me?”

“Stop smiling at me. I can’t keep stuttering and messing up my sentences.”

“It’s like our hands were made to fit each other’s.”

“Lemme kiss your booboo.”

“‘S too early, can you stay in bed a little longer?!”

“Are you done yet? I’m bored out of my mind?” “C’mere, you can sit on my lap ‘til I’m done working.”

“After everything that we’ve been through, you still don’t think that I love you?”

“We were meant for each other.”

“I’ve been excited to see you all day.”

“Can I at least shut the door before you decide to pounce on me the moment I come home?”

“Kiss me again, like you mean it.”

“Are you my secret admirer, the one that’s been sending me all the flowers and notes?”

“Apparently all our friends have a bet going that we’d end up together.”

“You make me happy.”

“You’re more than that.”

“I’ve lost everything, I’d be stupid enough to lose you.”

“I fell in love with you, not them.”

“What I am craving a nice, sloppy kiss. You think you can get me that?”

“You’re the only one I wanna wake up next to.”

Random:

(Prompts that are bolded belong to @babyboy-cody - their prompt list is amazing 🥲✋)

“When the world comes crashing down, who’s ready to party?”

“I hope you die out there.”

“I love sarcasm. It’s like punching people in the face, but with words.”

“Just remember, if we get in trouble, you’re deaf and I don’t speak English.”

“Life is not a fairytale. If you lose your shoe at midnight, you’re drunk.”

“I’m shy at first, but I do the stupidest things when I get comfortable with someone.”

“Some people just need a high-five. In the face. With a chair.”

“Chocolate comes from cocoa which is a tree. A tree is a plant. Therefore, chocolate is a salad.”

“That’s a horrible idea…let’s do it.”

“If you ran like your mouth, you’d be in good shape.”

“Everything is funny as long as it’s happening to someone else.”

“You know how you can smack something to get it to work? I wish I can do that to people.”

“I drink to forget, but I always remember.”

“You can roll it into a tightwad and shove your dick into it.”

“I am the type of person that will sit in the bathroom and cry, but then walk out like nothing ever happened.”

“Technically, I'm single. But my heart is taken by someone I can't have.”

“I look like I shouldn’t even be standing next to you.”

“Better to have an enemy that slaps you in the face than a friend who stabs you in the back.”

“I thought you were dead.”

“Wakey, wakey, sunshine.”

“Fucking dweeb.”

“Hit me with your best shot.”

“You’re pissing me off again.”

“I’ve been waiting to kick your ass all week.”

“If you do that again, I’m going to throw you out the fucking window.”

“Don’t touch that!”

“How did you do so much damage?” “Well after I dropped it the first time-” “You dropped it more than once?” “I panicked!”

“You’re an idiot, I’m an idiot. We’re the CEOs of Club Idiot.”

“The world is going to end in seconds.” “Then I’d like to spend the last moment on Earth kissing you.”

Smut:

“Bite me.”

“Keep running that pretty little mouth of yours, it won’t get you anywhere.”

“Prove it.”

“Bite your lip one more time and I won’t hesitate to bend you over that [surface] and fuck you silly.”

“Do it then.”

“Oh, just fuck me would you?”

“Yell at me again and I’ll give you a justifiable reason to scream.”

“Fuck me like it’s your last day on Earth.”

“You want to keep going or you want me to start railing you?”

“Keep up that little attitude of yours and let’s see where it gets you.”

“Make me.”

“Let the neighbors know my name, baby.”

“Am I fucking you too good?”

“Stupid little cunt, you can’t even form proper words.”

“Tell me what you want.”

“Show me how you play with yourself.”

“Wait on the bed for me like the good little boy/girl you are.”

“Does he/she make you feel as good as I do?”

“You taste so sweet, baby.”

“Whose [body part] is this?”

“Let me finish this and I promise to go down on you ‘til you cry.”

“If you make me stop what I’m doing, I’ll have your legs wobbling for the next week.”

“You make a sound and it’s game over, got it, pup?”

“The only way you’re getting off is with my [body part], don’t even think about anything else.”

“Were you just masturbating?” “I- uh- no?”

“Lemme help you with that, baby.”

“I haven’t touched you yet and you’re soaked.”

“All of this for me?”

“You like my hand around your neck, don’t you.”

“Such a nasty little slut.”

“Always down for anything, huh baby?”

“One more time - what’s the safeword?” “[Safeword].”

“Shut your mouth, would you?”

“Stop whining and take it.”

“Keep those pretty eyes open for me.”

“I’m gonna mess you up, my love.”

“I’m sure we can put those pretty lips to better use.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“You belong to me.”

“This is all mine.”

“You’re so cute - begging like that would get you out of this.”

“Hold. Still.”

“Beg for me, baby.”

“Aw, repping [person] now, are you?”

“Let me take care of you.”

#prompts #prompt list #sammy's prompt list

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ulquiorrapleasecallmetrash · 4 years

Text

Don't Lose Your Head (Hidan X Reader)

This is my first Imagine! Hope you guys like it. 😊

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You and Hidan were pretty close. He was basically like your annoying friend that would always tease you and make fun of you. Surprisingly, he does have a little soft spot for you. He never lets you come with him to any of his sacrifices for some strange reason. He has tried multiple of times for you to join his religion but you would flat out refused him. "Maybe if you were Jashinist then maybe you could come but your dumbass refuse to be so you can stay here." You still could not understand why he wouldn't let you at least watch from a distance. You were a ninja, you were use to blood and violence so what was the difference? You had to admit, you only knew a little about Jashinism but only because Hidan had told you but you were positive that nothing would give you trauma. You still couldn't help but be a little bit curious in what he does exactly in these absurd rituals. So, after Hidan left your house you waited for five minuets to follow him, slowly and carefully hiding your chakra so he couldn't sense it. Eventually you followed the Jashinst to a small village, that's when he prepared and started the ritual, killing everyone in sight. You were practically unphased by all the blood, cussing, and screaming, nothing out of the ordinary, until a ninja with a huge sword came from behind him and sliced his head clean off. You stood in shock, stepping out from behind the boulder you were behind, watching his head fly through the air and landing right in your hands. "Hidan you dumbass! You told me that your religion made you immortal! I knew it was fake!" " Shut the hell up stupid bitch! " "W-what?" Your eyes widened, your mouth gaped in total disbelief upon seeing Hidan's pretty eyes blinking like nothing happened.

"And don't speak ill on Jashinism!"

You had no words to explain it or even process what happened. You knew about Jashinism and him being immortal. Techincally, he is able to survive getting his head chopped off like this but the fact that this happened first handed and you seen it with your own eyes was unexplainable. "Ow ow ow damn it that fucking hurts!" " W-wait he's still alive? " You heard the enemy ninja said. "Hey dolldace, lift my head up." You instantly did what he said lifting him up like simba from the lion king. "Yeah I am still alive you fucking pricks! And once I get my head attached I am coming after every single of one of you cunts!" The ninjas were just as shocked as you, complete silence until.... "Run away!" One the Ninjas screamed as they all scrambled out of the village along with their civilians. You turned his head back to you, still flabbergasted that you were talking to decapitated head.

“You’re being remarkably calm about this.” He stated randomly.

“Thanks, it’s the shock. Give me fifteen minutes, the screaming will happen.”

He then laughed, before realizing that you followed him without permission. "Well, didn't I say that your dumbass shouldn't follow me!" Your shock then turned to anger. "Excuse me, last time I check if it wasn't for this dumbass. You would probably be sitting there headless without any help and I doubt Kakazu would care about finding you." He knew you were right but he wouldn't admit it but due to being in a vulnerable state he enlightened you. "Okay okay you're right sweet cheeks. Now how about taking me to Kakazu?"

You begin to laugh still, mad about what he had said earlier.

"How about this, since I am such a dumbass I am only smart enough to leave your head and body here while I go get Kakazu." Hidan's smirk instantly turned into a scowl, "You wouldn't..." You smirked, making your way to Hidan's body, placing his head on top of it. "You better not you stupid bitch! You leave me here then I'll kill you!" You knew those were hallow threats since he couldn't do anything. "Just relax Hidan, don't lose your head. Oh wait.." You begin to laugh out loud at your own joke. " You think this is funny! You fucking bitch! Come back here and take my head with you! "

You begin to walk away, ignoring his streams of insults. "Don't worry Hidan, I should be back with Kakazu by the end of day, maybe. Don't scream or you will attract vultures." Hidan's cussing instantly halted, but you can only assume his cussing were only streams of mutters. You couldn't help but laugh at this situation. You were first curious, horrified and now entertained by all of this. You couldn't wait to tell Kakazu Hidan 's little tale.

Life was good...

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Just to let you know, REQUESTS ARE OPEN! 💝💝💝

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Prompt: “You’re being remarkably calm about this.”

“Thanks, it’s the shock. Give me fifteen minutes, the screaming will happen.”

Prompt Creator: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/corvidprompts

#hidan #Naruto imagines #Naruto #akatsuki #mam #Manga #anime #imagines #drabble #fanfiction #story #hidan x Reader #funny #prompt #requests are open #ask box open #akatuski #kakazu #akatsuki imagines

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dweetwise · 4 years

Note

Picture with me. Mt Ormond Legion gets the map. They see what they think is a new cosmetic of like a fur coat. They go to taunt. An actual bear rears up and looks at them. Legion bolts and does not want to be injured by a grizzly. Lets survivors know from out of stabbing distance of the bear.

[bless u anon for feeding my dbd crack needs. you didn’t say which legion you wanted so have some rat boy frank!]

swearing ahead! also ooc but what else is new lol

Frank VS bear: ficlet/crack

Seeing the mist fade as he’s teleported into a trial, the familiar chilly mountain air seeps though Frank’s mask. He spins his knife and hums in content, glancing around at the grounds of the ski lodge he knows like the back of his hand.

“Fuck yeah, home advantage,” Frank grins to himself, starting the trek through the thin layer of snow towards the far side of the map where his annoying little survivor prey usually spawn.

He cuts through a jungle gym, slowing down once he spots something through the window. Is that a fucking fur jacket? Frank suppresses a snicker while imagining which of the survivor pricks the new outfit belongs to. Maybe bird boy wanted to look even more like a caveman? Or the sleazy gambler thought it’d go well with his trashy fucking sequin pants?

He doesn’t get any answers, as the person doesn’t seem to be moving, just crouching a ways off from the window trying to hide. He knows his heartbeat range is tiny, courtesy of the Doc’s teachings, so maybe the fucker has spine chill? Frank sidesteps the wall, walking backwards around the corner so as not to alert the skittish survivor.

“Hey fuckface, the 50′s called--” Frank taunts, finally turning around and raising his knife, ready to surprise the living shit out of--

Frank’s grin drops as he comes face to face with a fucking bear holy fucking shit! The bear growls before standing up on its hind legs and roaring--

Frank nearly shits his pants and scurries through the window in a frenzy, dropping his weapon while fumbling through the opening in a panic. He bolts out of the jungle gym, sprinting towards the other side of the map as fast as his legs will carry him.

His heart is pounding in his ears and he has no idea if the bear is following him. Frank braves a glance over his shoulder and-- “Shit!” --trips over some inconveniently placed rubble, landing flat on his face in the snow with his mask falling off from the impact and sliding away on the icy ground. Fuck! Fuck! Frank looks up, frantically trying to spot the animal chasing him, but ends up freezing from mortification instead.

Not even five feet to his side, three survivors are crouching beside a generator, having stopped dead in their repairs to stare at him with varying levels of disbelief. For a few painful seconds Frank just awkwardly stares back at the familiar faces of fellow Ormondian Jeff, that tired bitch, Quentin, and wannabe Oprah--Jane? The silence is uncomfortable as nobody moves a muscle, the only sound being the slow putter from the generator.

“AHAHAHAHAHA!!!” Quentin, the little shit, finally bursts out and actually doubles over from laughter beside the machine. Frank feels his rage flare up and fuck that bitch is getting stabbed-- “Hey kid, you alright?” Jeff offers and approaches Frank, extending a hand to help the other up. Frank snaps out of it and springs to his feet, reminded of the impending doom of the bear chasing him. “Bear! BEAR!!!” Frank yells, grabbing the bearded man by the shoulders and shaking him violently. “Stop insulting him, you homophobic piece of--” Jane starts angrily, forcefully yanking Frank off of the artist. “No you dumb bitch, an actual grizzly! It almost fucking ate me!” Frank explains in panic, slapping at the woman’s arm until she lets him go. “What the heck are you on about??” Jane demands, rubbing at her arm where Frank landed a decent punch. “He’s probably tripping,” Quentin deadpans, having recovered from his laughing fit and now back on the generator. “You know, on more than his own feet,” he adds, snickering. “Shut the fuck up Smith--” ”Where did you see the bear?” Jeff asks with a serious tone, placing a calming hand on Frank’s shoulder. Frank recoils away from the touch in disgust. ”On the other side of the lodge, near... I think by the snow cannon,” Frank explains, wracking his panicked brain for information. ”Would you show me?” Jeff asks. ”Hell no! I ain’t getting eaten!” Frank protests angrily. ”Like it'd want your skinny ass anyway,” Quentin quips. Frank whips around, ready to throw fists, when Jeff fucking touches him again ugh-- ”We’ll try to spot it from the lodge balcony where it’s safe,” Jeff explains, reassuring hand on Franks bicep and shooting a warning look Quentin’s way. ”Jeff why are you humoring him? Surely it’s a trap,” Jane demands, hands on her hips and giving Frank the stink eye. ”Can’t you see how scared he is?” Jeff argues. ”I’m not fucking scared--” Frank starts, blood boiling and face heating up in embarrassment. “You guys work on the gens on this side while we check it out,” Jeff again interrupts his tantrum, leading Frank to the lodge with a strong grip on his arm. Frank doesn’t protest (much), kind of glad to be rid of the two bitches by the gen.

He follows Jeff to the second floor of the lodge, and soon they’re looking around for the bear from the balcony. Frank spots it, almost at the exact same location as before, frantically pulling at Jeff’s sleeve and pointing at the animal.

“Holy shit,” Jeff says, astonished. “Why did the entity put a bear here?” “I don’t fucking know! What the fuck are we gonna do?? I can’t kill you or the bear, I dropped my knife earlier!" Frank rambles angrily. “I don’t think you’re supposed to kill anything,” Jeff says, thoughtful. “You know, there’s only three of us in the trial today.” Before Frank has an opportunity to demand what the fuck Jeff is on about, the man says something that makes his blood run cold: ”I think the bear is the killer. And you’re... a survivor.” “Bull-fucking-shit I’m a pussy survivor!” Frank protests angrily. “And even if I was--which I’m not... why?” “Entity parenting?” Jeff suggests. “It’s probably sick of you being a brat.” “I fucking hate you,” Frank says, giving his dirtiest glare. “The second I get my knife back--” “Sure kid,” Jeff says and has the audacity to smile. “Now let’s go find the others.”

They find Quentin and Jane on a different generator than before. Jeff explains the situation, causing Quentin to, predictably, burst out in laughter.

“It’s not fucking funny--” Frank hisses. “Oh my god I’m so done with this entity bullshit,” Jane sighs tiredly, pinching the bridge of her nose. “What am I even supposed to do!?” Frank demands, crossing his arms and staring at the trio with barely concealed hatred. “You’re supposed to help us out with wholesome magical teamwork!” Quentin beams, clearly getting off on his misery. “Or y’know, get mauled to death by the grizzly. Your choice.” “Quentin, stop picking a fight and show Frank how to fix the gen. Me and Jane will handle the ones that are closer to the bear,” Jeff decides. “Fuck no I ain’t staying with this cunt!” Frank exclaims, mortified. “Works for me,” Quentin shrugs, ignoring Frank and merely offering a wave as Jeff and Jane take off.

After Frank reluctantly listens to Quentin’s half-assed instructions and crouches down to touch the generator in disgust, the annoying teen thankfully shuts up. For a while Frank tries his best to stay focused on the machine, his leg jumping in pent-up energy as his thoughts flutter between the threat of the bear, his rage for the entity’s stunt, the uncertainty of what’s to come after this trial--

“Motherfucker!” Frank curses at the machine as it explodes under his hands. “You know,” Quentin says absently, not even acknowledging his failure. “You should ditch the fugly mask more often. Makes you almost tolerable to look at,” he challenges with a smirk. “Maybe you should have it, fuck knows you need it more with a mug like that,” Frank shoots back without missing a beat, ducking behind the generator to hide a grin. His foot stops twitching and he realizes it’s much easier to focus when he has someone to banter with.

Later, when the stupid generators are done and there’s no sign of the bear, they regroup with Jeff and Jane (ugh) in an already opened exit. Frank grimaces as Jeff tries to give him some cringy heartfelt compliment, before flipping Jane off when the woman tries to start an apology. Jane huffs in annoyance while Jeff merely chuckles, leading Jane into the exit, both of them disappearing into the void.

“I wonder what’s gonna happen once you get out,” Quentin muses, leaning against the gate panel and not seeming in any hurry to leave. “You think this was a one-off?” “I sure fucking hope so,” Frank mutters, not eager to repeat this dumb practical joke of the entity. “You didn’t actually do terrible today, rat boy,” Quentin quips with a grin. “Says the raccoon,” Frank mutters, turning away as he feels his neck heating up from a single half-assed compliment. Where’s his fucking mask when you need it?? “Eh, raccoons are kinda cute. I’ll take it,” Quentin says, thankfully ignoring his embarrassment. “More like stinky and a pain in the ass.” ”None of those are mutually exclusive,” Quentin jokes, before looking back into the snowy map in thought. “Going back for your mask still?” he asks, with barely concealed... worry? ”Nah, Susie’ll make another,” Frank remarks, ignoring the other’s sudden interest in his well-being. “Maybe you should do this more often,” Quentin says. “Get rid of the mask and, y’know, stabbing. Might even make some friends.” “I don’t need friends,” Frank scoffs. He has his Legion, why would he want to play family with the survivors?

Quentin--smirks?--which is definitely not the reaction Frank was anticipating. Frank suddenly realizes he’s been standing way too close to Quentin for acceptable bro-range and the other is looking at him with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Frank feels his face heat up and an insult dies on his tongue. Quentin opens his mouth to say something, but seems to notice something behind Frank as his eyes go comically wide.

“FUCK, THE BEAR!!” Quentin yells and Frank bearly has time to turn around to see the massive animal come barreling towards them before Quentin is pulling on his jacket, making them both stumble and nearly trip over each other as they fall into the safety of the exit gate threshold.

[is frank a) a bi disaster b) terrible at making friends or c) all of the above? also where do i sign to let jeff adopt legion]

#frank morrison #quentin smith #morrismith #kinda #dbd legion #dbd #dead by daylight #dbd fanfic #request #dweetwrites

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dr0wning-in-hell · 4 years

Text

Admitted - Alex Summers

Summary : Y/N and Alex are always competing, and after losing to Y/N Alex is a bit upset. When he goes to tell her something out of annoyance feelings are admitted, starting something they were both waiting for.

Word Count : 1.6k+

Warnings : competition, sMuT, fingering, oral (f), langage, fluff

Pairing/Characters : Alex Summers x reader, Jean Grey, Scott Summers, Hank McCoy.

Prompt : “ could you pls do an alex summers smut where the reader and him always try to compete with each other and the reader finally gets sick of it, they both realise they have feelings for each other and then have sex? akskjdskjdsk.” Anon

A/N : IM TRYING TO GET AS MANY IMAGINES/REQUESTS WRITTEN BY TOMORROW SO BE PREPARED.

New Masterlist | Prompt List

Y/N and Alex had been at this game for months now, constantly competing against the other to see who was better. Everyone thought it was just a game at first so they jumped in and cheered on their friends and then tallied up the scores. It was a tie about 99.9% of the time. This game began to grow old and people stopped participating, except for Alex and Y/N.

“Think you can beat me, Y/L/N?” Alex grinned as you two were about to go on a run for training. The rest of the X-Men were there of course and all groaned loudly at how childish the two were being.

“Oh I know I can.” Y/N smirked back as she stretched.

Hank stepped out onto the field with them, “Let’s go.” And so they went. It was more like a leisurely jog at first and then Alex caught u with Y/N who was at the front talking with Jean.

“You’re too slow, Y/L/N.” He was just trying to get under her sin at this point, rile her up and make her angry.

“Don’t listen to him to Y/N.” Jean said as they ran, “You’re better than him.”

Y/N looked over at the blonde, “Yeah I am better than him.” Her strides grew and she was running faster than everyone. “Which is why I’m going to beat you!” She yelled as she was now further ahead then the others.

Alex groaned and picked up his pace to meet hers. It didn’t take long till they were neck and neck, running at the same pace. Both of them would be lying if they were to be asked if they had feelings for each other and responded with ‘no.’ They liked each other and everyone knew it, they knew it too but they didn’t want to admit to it. It’s why they’re always competing.

As they ran they made rude remarks to try and piss off the other one, which only spurred on the competition. Y/N was determined to win, so when she saw Alex slowing down because he was getting tired she sped up and beat him. It was only minutes later that he caught up with her, tired and out of breathe.

“Looks like I won, Summers.” Y/N smirked. She blew him a playful kiss and winked before going into the mansion to clean herself up.

“You two just need to fuck and admit your feelings already.” His brother, along with the rest of the team were sitting on the grass in front of the doors.

Alex looked around with furrowed eyebrows, “How did you- did you guys even run?” He panted.

“Once you and Y/N ran off we just decided to come back and see who would win.” Scott said, “We all agreed that Y/N would.” He smirked at his brother. Alex rolled his eyes as he went to go walk by them.

“So are you going to go do it?” Jean asked. Alex looked at her with a confused expression, “Are you going to go admit your feelings to her?”

Alex sighed and shook his head, “There’s no feelings that need to be admitted.” He walked into the school and headed to his bedroom, which just so happened to be across the hall from Y/N’s. There was music playing from her Vinyl and it echoed into the hallway. Alex was already annoyed so the sound of her music just annoyed him further. He went to go tell her to turn it down but was greeted by something else.

The door was cracked open slightly and even though he knew he should knock he just didn’t. He peeked through the crack and saw Y/N standing in front of her mirror, wearing only a pair of very short Nike shorts and a lace bralette. Even though he said there were no feelings to be admitted, the sigh in front of him made him want to tell her everything.

Y/N looked up into the mirror and saw him peeking through and screamed, grabbing the first thing near her, - which was a book - and chucked it at his head.

“Jesus! Are you fucking watching me, you pervert!” Y/N screeched as she went to pick up her book. Alex was now looking everywhere else but at Y/N. She grumbled to herself as she put the book back, the boy was still just standing there. “Do you have something to say, Summers?” She asked with an irritated tone.

Alex looked at her, the butterflies in his stomach seemed to have their own butterflies since he couldn’t find a single thing to say. Y/N went to push the door shut but then Alex said something he never thought he would say.

“I like you.” He blurted out, pupils wide and cheeks flushed.

Y/N’s mouth hung open, “Y-you what? Did I hear you correctly?” Her eyes were wide, she couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

Alex gulped, “I really like you.” He stepped just a little closer to her and she did the same until there was no more space between them. There were no words shared as she cupped his face and pressed her lips to his. Alex was shocked at first but then it felt like the weight of the world had just been pushed off his shoulders. She liked him back, and those feelings were finally admitted.

The two stepped into Y/N’s room, the door shutting behind them as Alex swiftly lifted Y/N and her legs hooked around his waist. The kiss was heating up, their hands were roaming each other’s bodies, tugging at the other. Alex laid Y/N on her comforter, pulling away to rest his forehead against hers as he caught his breathe.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He said in a soft voice, his hands were stroking his arms gently, as if she would break. She nodded, mumbling a soft ‘yes’ before her hands were tugging his shirt over his head, Sure she had seen Alex shirtless countless of times in training, but this was different.. They were seeing each other in a new way. His hands caressed the material of her bra and she couldn’t help but chuckle at him.

“Just take it off, Summers.” Sitting up she unhooked the back and let him take it off the rest of the way. Goosebumps littered her skin as he drank in the sight in front of him. Their heated makeout session continued as their hands gripped the others skin, her nails raking through his hair and down his back, and his hands groping her breasts and pulling out the loveliest moans from her.

After making out for a bit longer the rest of their clothes had been discarded and they were breathing heavily. “Gonna make you feel so good, promise I’ll take care of you.” Alex mumbled softly as he gave Y/N’s lips a quick peck and then left hickies and love bites down her chest, stomach, and the insides of her thighs. He had barely touched her and she was already soaking wet for him. He already knew how aroused she was just from the slight movements of her bucking her hips up against his lips. At first it was just soft kisses around where she needed him most, and then his middle finger slid up and down her folds to spread her wetness. She let out a shaky breathe, trying to stay calm as she was eagerly waiting.

Y/N let out a long moan as Alex finally slid his thick fingers into her and slowly filled her up. He watched as Y/N’s eyes rolled to the back of her head as she was swallowed up by the ecstacy. He moved his finger at a steady pace, his eyes trained of the girl above him to make sure she wasn’t in any pain. When he thought she was okay he slid two more fingers into her soaking cunt.

“Fuck.” Y/N moaned out, her hand slapping over her mouth as she kept in her screams. “Feels so good, fuck- so good.” She mumbled breathlessly against her skin. Alex smirked, a sense of pride filling him as he was making her feel this incredible sensation. His actions continued, his fingers would curl until his was knuckles deep and he was scissoring her walls.Y/N’s hips were bucking against his hand, her thighs quivering as she was getting close to release.

“Wanna taste you,” Alex said when he felt her walls pulsate against his fingers. He leaned his head down and attached his mouth to her throbbing clit, the feeling so overwhelming that Y/N came quickly on his tongue and fingers. She was letting out soft whimpers of his name as she rode out her high.

When Y/N opened her eyes again she watched as Alex was smiling down at her as he licked his fingers clean of her juices. “You taste so good, just like candy.” Y/N blushed and her heart did a backflip in her chest. “We can continue this later, I think right now we need a power nap.” Alex said as he laid next to her, pulling her close to him.

“But that’s not fair, you didn’t cum yet.” Y/N protested as she tried to sit up.

Alex pushed her back down before nuzzling his head in her hair, “Later, I promise. Just wanna hold you right now.” He sigh tiredly. Y/N just smiled softly and snuggled up against him, their breathing soon even as they fell asleep.

Hopefully when they woke up they were ready for more fun.

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illfoandillfie · 4 years

Text

Curtains - Part 4

SERIES MASTERLIST

Pairing: Roger x Reader

Summery: You turn Roger down

Warnings: Smut (18+), angst, an argument with some very mean words, rough sex, choking, badly handled Feelings

Words: 4,192 (longest chapter so far)

A/N: penultimate chapter is a bit of a downer lmao

Taglist (though notifications don’t seem to be working so hopefully ya’ll see this): @laedymoon @dtfrogertaylor @ezmina98 @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks

@bohemiansweede @rogershoe @lnnuend0 @funitrog

You’d managed to avoid Roger for a solid three weeks. It hadn’t been easy considering you went to the same uni and lived next door to each other and you still hadn’t hung your curtains, but you’d been managing alright. There’d been a lot of ducking into bathrooms or around corners when you saw him on campus. A lot of studying on your couch rather than in your room to avoid him knocking at your door again. A lot of leaving early and sneaking home when you knew he’d be playing at the pub or else crashing on friend’s couches when possible. Anything to avoid Roger and the questions he was sure to have about your cancelled date.

The night he’d asked you out had been a sleepless one despite what you’d told him, your brain keeping you up with misgivings about dating Roger. Sex with him was one thing but an actual date was a whole different ballgame, one you weren’t sure you wanted to play. You needed more time to think, weigh up what you wanted. Did you enjoy being around Roger? Or did you just like that he could get you off? Most of your conversations had happened just before you slept together, while you were too horny to think straight, or just after, while you were coming down from the high. Which made it hard to know if you actually liked him, or it was just the endorphins talking. He seemed sweet enough, if a little full of himself, from what you knew about him, but really he was a giant question mark. He might be a complete arsehole. Or a control freak. He might be a serial womanizer. Or a serial killer. So you’d called it off, the day after he’d asked you out. A purposeful accidental meeting on his way out of the house. It had taken hours of sitting by your front door, changing your mind over and over again as you waited for him to step outside and head towards his van. A small wave to get his attention and then, when he’d smiled and greeted you, an apologetic look and some bullshit about a family situation meaning you weren’t going to be able to see him on Saturday. The lack of sleep might actually have helped you sell your story. He’d looked disappointed but not half as disappointed as he was a minute later when he tried to reschedule, and you said you’d have to get back to him with a day that worked. Since then you’d done everything in your power to not see him. Ostensibly so you could think things through, give yourself some time to work out what you actually wanted, though the reality of it was closer to making excuses and hiding. Sometimes literally hiding. He’d come over a few times, sending you scurrying for cover in your bathroom. You’d found notes each time, once or twice accompanied by a flower, saying he really wanted to talk with you. You stopped reading them after the third one, though you didn’t throw them out. Just left them in a pile on your coffee table, waiting for you to get curious enough to take a peek. And now it had all gone to shit because you’d forgotten to account for his dumb friends.

“Y/N, can you just tell me what’s going on?” Freddie asked you, having cornered you on campus before you could think to escape his notice. You hadn’t even considered Freddie or anyone besides Roger wanting to talk to you about it. “Sorry Freddie but it’s really none of your business. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got t-” “Rog has been really bummed out since you cancelled on him. Moping around, playing the worst fucking music. Constantly, for two and a half weeks now. Just rubbish record after rubbish record. I think that entitles me to an explanation of what the hell happened between you.” “It just didn’t feel right,” you shrugged. “But fucking in the pub bathroom did?” “That’s different,” you said, annoyed that he was inserting himself in your business, judging your actions, “The sex was just sex, I never signed up to get involved. Besides, Roger isn’t the sort of guy I date.” “Bullshit,” “What? You think because I'm shy and find it hard to approach men that I can’t have a casual fling? That I’m so desperate for attention I’ll say yes to anyone?” “Darling you don’t have a monopoly on being shy,” He paused for a moment, eyeing you up, “Everything you just said is rubbish.” “Excuse me?” You crossed your arms over your chest, waiting indignantly for Freddie to continue. “It’s got nothing to do with things not feeling right or whatever else you’ve told yourself. It’s because you’re scared. I know you were scared to approach him when you moved in and you were scared to make a move on him at the pub. I saw you, hoping he’d notice you. And we all saw you after the show the other week, laughing at his jokes and all those little smiles when you thought no one was looking. You turned him down because you got scared.” “Fuck off Freddie. We hung out one time, you don’t know me and frankly neither does Roger.” “Isn’t that the point of going on a date though? To get to know each other?” “Maybe I don’t want him to know me. He only thinks he’s interested because I’ve been sleeping with him. As soon as it stops being fun or he finds someone new, he’ll ditch me.” “You need to give Roger more credit than that.” “No, what I need to do is get to class,” you pushed past him. Freddie's voice followed you as your stormed off, “Fine, Y/N, but can you at least talk to Roger about it?” You threw him the V over your shoulder as you walked away.

Still stewing over everything Freddie had said, you didn’t pay any attention to where you were walking. Wanker, you thought to yourself, what’s it to him anyway. Not my problem Roger’s in a shitty mood and has crap taste in music. Says a handful of sentences to me while we hung out in the van one time and he thinks he knows a single thing about me. Thinks he can butt into my business. It’s got nothing to do with him if I never see Roger again! You spent the next few minutes cursing Freddie and coming up with a list of things you wished you’d said to him, only stopping when you realised you were standing outside your front door, yelling a single, loud, “SHIT” into the air. That summed it up really. Shit. Everything was shit. Missing a class you really should have been at was shit, being cornered and read like a fucking book by Freddie was shit, not seeing Roger was shit. You decided to call the day what it was – a total fucking lost cause – and have a nap. Your bag thumped against the floor where you dropped it by the door, your shoes making equally loud bangs as you kicked them across the room. The small pile of notes still sat on the coffee table, taunting you, but you ignored it heading stright to your room. You shimmied out of your jeans and climbed into bed, pulling the covers over your head to block out the sun streaming in through the curtain-less door. God I've really got to fix that.

Just as you got settled you heard a tapping against the glass. You screwed your eyes shut, having a feeling you knew who causing the racket, and willed him to go away. He didn’t. Instead he tapped louder, his voice muffled by the glass as he called your name. “Y/N, I know you’re in there! I heard you swearing!” You buried your head under your pillow, trying to block him out. The constant tapping alone was getting on your nerves, never mind his voice. “I can fucking see you moving around! Can you please just talk to me?” “Go away Roger!” “Not until you talk to me!” “For fucks sake,” you hissed under your breath before throwing the covers back, “Fine!” You strode towards the door, yanking it open, “Fine, let's talk then.” “Drop the attitude Y/N. You’re the one who blew me off and then fucking disappeared for weeks, I just want to know why.” “Take the hint Roger, I don’t want to date you.” “Jesus, yeah I got that. Why are you being such a cunt about it though?” You stared at him for a few seconds, stung though you knew he was right. “Well? Are you going to say something, or just stand there?” You decided on neither, moving to shut the door in his face but he was too quick, wincing as it his his shoulder. “No, you owe me an explanation Y/N,” he said pushing the door wide enough to get inside, “What did I do? Something happened between me leaving and the next day when you cancelled and I want to know what the fuck it was,” “I came to my senses that’s what happened,” you stood your ground even as he invaded your personal space and a voice screamed in the back of your head to just stop and be honest. Roger shook his head, “You think you’re being so fucking clever, don’t you? Well you’re not. You’re just being a bitch.” “You don’t know me, Roger. You think cos we fucked a few times you know a single goddamn thing about me but you don’t.” “I had it right the first time.” “What?” “The first time I fucked you. Left as soon as I’d finished with you, that was the right idea. All that hanging around after shit was a waste of time.” “Yeah well, if you ask me none of it was worth it. Should have realised after the first time you weren’t a good enough fuck anyway. “That's bullshit and we both know it. Do you have any idea how fucking pathetic you looked, how desperate, waiting for me to notice you? One fucking word was all it took to have you spread your legs for me, and in a room full of strangers no less. Literally begged to suck me off last time, like a proper slut. You’re the easiest pussy I ever got, Y/N. And It was stupid of me to think you were worth more than the time it took me to cum.” “That’s how you feel is it?” “Yeah, it is,” “Really?” “Yes.” His voice was dripping with contempt as he glared at you.

There was a beat as Roger seemed to realise what he’d said, eyes widening in horror and then your hands were at his fly, nails catching against the denim as you almost tore the button off in your haste. “Y/N wh-” “Shut up and fuck me,” He still looked a little shocked as you made to pull his shirt off. “Jesus, do I have to do everything,” That reignited his frustration and he managed to do what you couldn’t, tearing a few of the buttons from your shirt, sending them scattering across the floor, as he pulled it open to reveal your breasts. You got a hand into his pants, tugging at him as he pushed you towards your bed, door left standing open behind him. There was no time to think, no time to talk. One minute you’d been cursing at each other and the next you were lying on your back with Roger roughly pulling you towards the edge of the mattress. He let go of you long enough to get his pants down, moving your underwear to the side as he lined himself up. Your back arched when he entered you and you gasped as he paused. “Fucking move, arsehole,” “Still a pathetic slut,” he growled back bringing a hand to your throat as he leaned over and rammed into you. He’d been rough with you before but not like this. Careless. Inconsiderate. Brutal. Roger found a harsh rhythm and stuck to it, tightening his grip on your throat whenever you opened your mouth to hurl another insult his way. You grasped his wrist, nails digging into his skin which only seemed to inspire a rougher treatment. He didn’t bother to rub your clit, made no attempt to hold off his own orgasm and let you catch up. Left it up to you to get there or not. The familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach was only beginning to build when he grunted in your ear, hips stuttering. He left you feeling empty and unsatisfied, tucking himself away as you sat up and stared. There was a moment of quiet, both of you breathing heavily, watching the other. “That’s exactly why I cancelled,” you said softly. You could feel your chest tightening, eyes prickling, but you were determined not to break down in front of Roger. His shoulders slumped as he looked at you, absentmindedly raking his fingers through his hair, “Y/N, I’m, fuck, that wasn’t-“ “Get out,” Your voice was steady. “That’s not how I wanted it to go. I didn’t mea-" “Just get the fuck out of here Roger.” He gave you a final apologetic look before flinging himself out of the door and disappearing around the corner. You held yourself together just long enough for him to leave and then you sunk to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest, tears falling onto them and rolling down your legs as your body shook with sobs. You hoped he could hear, door still standing open. You hoped the whole fucking street could hear.

Over the next few days the fight was all you could think about. He, thankfully, hadn’t left any bruises or marks on your throat, but there was a dull pain where he’d thrust into you so roughly, like he’d bruised your insides. A constant reminder of what happened, not that you needed one. You heard Roger’s taunts almost in a loop, each word drilling into your skull. A cunt. Easy. Pathetic. Every time you closed your eyes you saw him, glaring at you, spitting out how little he thought of you. But the hurt settled into a bitter vindication. So much for Freddie’s faith in Roger, you’d been right after all. Maybe you didn’t go about it the cleanest way but you’d done the right thing. You saw hide nor hair of Roger, not even so much as a glimpse of him on campus, though Freddie and Brian both tried to trap you. From what you could gather, they knew you and Roger had fought but knew nothing of the specifics. Every time you passed them they tried to stop you, but you ignored them, walked away as they yelled after you that Roger was sorry. “He’s really fucking torn up about whatever he said to you,” Brian said softly, catching your arm as you walked home, “I keep catching him mumbling to himself about it. He swears he didn’t mean it, whatever he said.” “Sounded like he meant it,” you wrenched your arm free and doubled your pace until you reached the safety of your living room. Eventually they stopped, giving up on trying to convince you, and you thought it was done.

Until the day you got home from an evening class to find Roger sitting cross legged in front of your door. You stopped in your tracks, “What are you doing here?” Roger jumped to his feet, dusting his hands off on the back of his jeans, “I Just want to talk,” he held up his hands like someone in a movie, trying to prove they didn’t have any weapons. “I don’t want to talk.” The people in the movies usually had a knife or something hidden up their sleeve. “Please, Y/N? I’m really sorry about what happened last time. I understand if you never want to see me again and if that’s the case then I’ll leave you alone after today. But I’d like to have a better goodbye than that.” Crossing your arms over your chest, you considered him. Part of you wanted to tell him where to stick his apology. But he did look genuinely upset and sorry and you felt guilty, knowing the part you’d played, “Fine. Can you move so I can open my bloody door?” “Actually,” he glanced next door, “I was hoping we could go for a drive. The other three are home and I don’t want them to overhear.” “Worried they’ll take my side?” “No. It’s just none of their business. So, do you mind?” On one hand, a bit of privacy would probably be good and being elsewhere might stop another scene from erupting. On the other, though, it was harder to tell Roger to fuck off if he was your ride home. “We wouldn’t go far, just away from here.” He looked over at his place again. “Yeah, okay,” You said quietly. Roger gave you a small smile, and held his hand out in an after you gesture, letting you lead the way to his van.

The drive was almost silent. Music had started playing as the engine came to life but Roger turned it off before you could hear more than a few notes of the melancholy tune. “Not your usual sound,” you said, awkwardly trying to make small talk. “Spose not.” You didn’t know what to say. Neither, it seemed, did Roger. Luckily, he didn’t go much further than a few blocks, pulling into the carpark of the local park. Usually the place would be crawling with children, screaming at each other and their parents. But now that the sun had set it was virtually deserted. A few people taking their dogs for late walks passed by as he backed the van into a spot. “Let’s sit in the back, more space,” Roger said climbing through and opening the back doors. “No instruments tonight?” “Nah, not tonight.” Another small smile as he helped you through. You settled in the doorway, legs pulled in close to your body, taking up as little space as you could manage. Roger sat opposite, chewing on his lip as he turned his head to stare out over the dark park. “I am very sorry about what I said the other day,” he looked at you and then back towards the pond, “I had an idea of what I wanted to happen except it didn’t go that way. I got pissed off and just wanted to hurt you.” “Mission accomplished.” “I know. Haven’t stopped thinking about it since. The second I left and h-heard you crying, I wanted to turn the clock back and undo it all. It was so cruel. Everything I said, did, was just needlessly cruel and I cannot apologise enough. I didn’t mean any of it. “I know you didn’t mean it. Don’t get me wrong, it sucked but I pushed you on purpose,” You let your eyes wander over Roger’s face, watching his reaction, “I wanted to hear you say something like that. And then I instigated the sex because doing it confirmed what you’d said. It was just a way to prove I was right to not go out with you. Make myself feel better about being so horrid to you.” He sighed, bring a hand up to rub the back of his neck “Like I said, not how I wanted it to go.” You both stopped, waiting for the other to say something, though when it became clear Roger wasn’t going to continue, you stepped up. “Guess I was looking for a fight. Freddie caught me off guard earlier, standing up for you, so I was already pissed off. I would have had a crack at just about anyone who came past but seeing you just made it worse,” you let yourself relax a bit, one leg slipping down to dangle out of the van, “We can talk now though. Promise I won’t bite your head off.” “I just want to understand why you changed your mind. That’s all. Not to try and convince you to change it back or anything, I just want to know if something I did upset you or…” “It wasn’t anything you did, Rog.” He nodded, looking a little relieved, “Can I ask what it was then?” “Yeah, umm” you sighed, trying to find the right words, “When you asked me out and I said yes, I was still on this high from the whole night. Hanging out with you and your mates was fun and fucking you in the pub was fun. And then you kissed me, which I wasn’t expecting. You’d never kissed me before. So going out with you seemed like a good idea. But then as soon as I was alone again, I freaked out about it. Freddie was right. He called me out for being scared and he was right.” “Scared of what?” “Everything? I don’t know. Scared you’d only asked me cos you’d been drinking or so I’d keep sleeping with you. Scared of getting hurt when you realised you didn’t really like me. Scared that one date would lead to two would lead to a serious fucking relationship. I panicked and decided it was easier to cut everything off thank risk anything. I handled this whole thing appallingly didn’t I?” “Yeah, little bit.” “Sorry.” You both fell into silence again. Roger’s brow was furrowed as he looked at his own fingers. You stared out at the pond, the stars reflected in the water blurring the longer you went without blinking.

It started to rain softly, the drops tapping against the roof of the van. You barely noticed the drops splashing onto your ankle or the chill wind that accompanied the shower, too caught up in your own head, trying to work out how to fix the situation you’d tangled yourself and Roger in. “Shit, you’re shivering,” Roger said, breaking through the mess of thoughts swirling round your head, “I think I have a blanket back here somewhere.” You watched, rubbing your arms to try and fend off the cold you’d only just noticed. “Here,” Roger said at last, throwing a fuzzy blanket over your shoulders, “Wrap yourself up in that,” “Aren’t you cold too?” you glanced at the t-shirt he wore. “Nah, I’ll be right,” “We could share,” “I don’t want to overstep,” “You wouldn’t be. Plus the extra body heat might help me warm up faster,” “Are you sure you’re okay with it?” “Wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t.” Roger scooted closer, pausing before he came closer again, testing the waters. When he reached you he pulled the blanket around his own shoulders, one arm falling behind you so he was pressed in close. “Definitely warmer,” you said, leaning your head against his chest, ready to spring back up if he said anything. It felt nice to be so close to him again, without the anger of the last time. “I did mean it, when I asked you out. It was a genuine request not some ploy to keep sleeping with you or whatever. Just so we’re clear.” You nodded, leaning into him. Without thinking you began tracing your fingers over his wrist, following some marks you couldn’t see properly. There was a pang of guilt as you realised your nails had left them there. “It doesn’t hurt,” he said softly, reading your mind, “probably deserved it. Did I hurt you?” “A bit yeah." He shifted your hair, trying to see any signs of how he’d squeezed your throat. “Not there.” “Oh, Y/N,” he held you tighter, wrapping his second arm around you, pulling you against him, “I’m so sorry,” “It’s okay Rog. Only hurt for a couple of days. And if anyone should apologise more it’s me. I was a cunt and you didn’t deserve how I treated you.” “It’s okay. I get why. But why don’t we make an agreement to stop going in circles apologising to each other and put it behind us, if we can.” “Go back to before?” You asked slowly, sitting up to look at Roger, trying to get a feel for what he was hoping for, “Hooking up casually?” “If that’s what you want, I can do casual. We don’t have to though; I’d be happy to just be friends, or whatever. As long as we’re not fighting anymore.” “Friends would be good. But maybe you should try asking me out again? If you’re still interested?” “Really? I don’t want you to feel obligated to say yes out of guilt or because you want to make it up to me.” “Ask me,” This time when he spoke there was no hesitation, “Do you want to go out with me sometime?” “I’d really like that.” Roger tilted your head towards him. He paused, looking into your eyes. And then, when he was satisfied with whatever he saw there, he kissed you. Softly, one arm around your waist, the other resting on your cheek.

#my writing #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor smut #roger taylor imagine #I really love writing this series #but im highkey worried this chapter is too out of place #or that it'll feel like it doesn't make sense or came out of nowhere #I hope it doesn't #anyway theres one more chapter to come #and i know exactly what's going to happen #and how it's going to end #and im very much looking forward to writing it #and now to press post #.....#here we go! posting!#just gotta move the mouse over to post and click on it #stop stalling and post it #if it flops i'll delete and rewrite it

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babbushka · 5 years

Text

Dead Man

Flip Zimmerman x Reader

(word count: 2.5k ; warnings: N*FW babey)

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You were zipping down the main road, convertible top down, wind in your hair and radio blasting. There was not another soul in sight, and you had just done some serious damage at the grocery store, taking advantage of all the new sales for the week.

Dolly Parton’s new single had just hit the airwaves, and you could not get enough of it. You sang at the top of your lungs along to the heart-wrenching ballad, grateful that no woman could tempt your man the way Jolene seemed to be able to tempt Dolly’s.

You were so caught up in the song and the atmosphere of the beautiful Colorado mountains that you were driving through, that it wasn’t until the commercial on the radio started playing and you turned the volume down that you noticed the flashing red and blue lights behind you.

“Oh shit.” You cursed to yourself, checking your speed.

A decent twenty miles over the limit, you saw, and you groaned.

You pulled over and turned the radio all the way off, hoping it was one of Flip’s friends in the car behind you, hoping that you could maybe maybe maybe sweet-talk your way out of a ticket.

You fixed your hair in the rear-view mirror, and waited patiently for…well speak of the devil, you thought, when your very own husband took his time walking over to your door.

Those cowboy boots of his crunched on the gravel of the side of the road, and you really couldn’t help but admire how good he looked in those sunglasses of his, cigarette poking out of the corner of his mouth.

“License and registration, ma’am.” He said, voice deep deep deep, the kind of voice that made you weak for him.

“Honey? What are you doing out here?” You asked, slightly confused.

“That’s Detective Zimmerman to you.” He licked his teeth.

You knew what game he was playing, you knew. He knew you knew.

You wanted to be difficult.

“Is Jimmy with you?” You asked, craning your neck around to peer through the windshield of the car behind you, the lights stopped flashing for now. Sure enough, there was your friend, looking as amused as could be. “Hey Jim!”

“Hi (Y/N)!” He shouted back at you, and you could hear the laugh in his voice.

Flip tapped on the side view mirror to capture your attention again, and you gave it with a raised eyebrow.

“Ma’am, do you know how fast you were speeding?” Flip asked, face perfectly stoic, perfectly professional.

Your man was nothing if not professional.

“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me.” You rolled your eyes, being a brat, being difficult, knowing you’d pay for it, knowing he’d pay for this.

“I’m perfectly serious.” He said, and there it was – the barest hint of a smirk, of a smile, as he sucked the last of the cigarette down, as he snuffed it out between his heel and the coarse gravel below.

His tone brooked no argument, so like a good, law-abiding citizen, you fished out your license and registration, handed it over to Flip who thanked you and took it back to his cop car.

Jimmy was shaking his head fondly when Flip returned, pretended to run it through the system, just to stall for time and annoy you even more. Hopefully you’d be feisty, you’d be aggravated enough to punish him later for it.

“You’re going to be in so much trouble, Zimmerman.” Jimmy laughed, smoked his own cigarette.

Flip didn’t tell him that that was the whole point.

“Drive her car back home?” He said instead, and Jimmy just shook his head again.

“Sure thing.” Jimmy replied, the two of them walking back to your car.

You had gotten out of the car in the meantime, had turned it off and was twirling the keys around your finger. This wasn’t the first time he had pulled a stunt like this, not even close. You knew what you were in for, and you couldn’t help the fluttering in your stomach.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to bring you down to the station, there’s a warrant out for your arrest.” Flip said with mock disappointment.

“Is that so?” You asked, crossing your arms.

“Yep.” Flip nodded, “Being too goddamned beautiful. Can’t have a menace like that running loose on the streets.” And there it was, there was that big smug fucking grin that had you rolling your eyes, had you handing your keys over to Jimmy, had you grow wet between your legs.

“There’s ice cream in the trunk Jimmy, could you put it in the freezer for me?” You asked sweetly, innocently, as Flip’s hands already started roaming over your sides, as he already started pulling you towards him, right there off the interstate.

“Yes ma’am, you two have fun.” Jimmy winked, getting into the car and driving away.

As soon as he was out of sight and there were still no cars coming in either direction, Flip was on you, big hands crushing your arms and pulling you to the cop car.

“Flip I’m going to kill you!” You laughed, because he was ridiculous, because he was so fucking handsome, was going to treat you so right, you just knew it.

“Threatening an officer? Now you’re in real trouble.” He said, gripping your jaw, bringing you in for a deep wet sloppy kiss.

“What are you gonna do to me?” You asked once he pulled away, taking your breath with him.

He dipped his big thumb into your mouth, and you sucked on it, entirely too suggestively, right there out in the open where anyone could drive by and see.

“I haven’t decided yet. Hands behind your back.” He ordered.

You figured you’d let him have this, let him have you like this. At least for now.

You turned around, leaned your tits against the cop car and crossed your wrists. He cuffed you tight, tight enough that it was going to chafe, tight enough that you wouldn’t be able to break free. He pressed himself right up against you as he did it, as he slowly clicked the metal into place, and you could feel his cock grinding against your ass.

He sat you in the back of the cop car, locked the doors and drove down the main road a ways before pulling off to a lesser known path, one that wound the two of you up in a nice clearing just on the outskirts of the big mountain trails.

The clearing was beautiful, tall wild grasses and flowers lining the road, old asphalt bleached from the sun that came with the summer months. You were going to get dicked down, you knew that, knew it as you pushed your chest out, tried to make yourself look good.

“My husband’s gonna be looking for me.” You said with a glimmer in your eye as he parked the car.

“Oh yeah? He a big guy?” He asked you, meeting your gaze through the rearview mirror. He didn’t look down at his hands as they undid his belt, he didn’t need to, he’s done it a hundred times.

You licked your lips.

“Mhm, real big. Strong. Knows how to shoot.” You noded, and he huffed a laugh at that, one that turns into a groan.

You try and peer over the seat, try to get a glimpse of his cock, because you know he’s jerking off, you know. You can see it in the way his arm is moving, how his shoulders are tensing. You wish you could do it for him, fuck your way out of this speeding ticket.

“He take care of you?” He asked, breathy, and you nod, rubbing your thighs together.

That tone of his voice does shit to you, it’s the same tone he uses when he begs for you, when he pleads. You’re going to make him beg tonight, you decided, as he spits in his palm and tugs at his cock a little faster.

“Yeah he does. And he’s not gonna be too happy that I’m not home working on dinner.” You pointed out, making him laugh again.

“Maybe I’m hungry now.” He said, eyes dark with lust, face flushed.

“Are you?” You ask, and just like that, he’s out of the driver’s seat, out of the car.

He rounded on you, pulled the door open and yanks you out, shoves you roughly against the side of the car. He could fuck you on the hood, but that’s no fun, not when he’s got you cuffed like this.

He kicks your feet apart with those heavy boots, and you comply eagerly, spread them and stay still as his hands slowly slowly slowly push up your skirt, as they smooth over your ass. He pulls back the elastic waistband of your panties and lets it go, lets it snap harshly against your skin, and when you whine, he does it again.

“Flip,” You’re fluttering all over, your pussy so wet, aching, desperate to be touched.

He’s hungry, he said, and he wastes little time getting his fill as he drops to his knees behind you, yank your underwear down so it’s caught between your ankles as he eats you out from behind. He’s got fingers and tongue prodding at you, massaging you, sucking and biting and licking in a way that’s got your knees buckling.

Flip spits on your cunt, uses it as lube even though it’s not nearly enough. He withdraws his fingers to keep your legs pried open, grip tight on your thighs as he buried his face in your ass, as he fucked you with his mouth. His facial hair is harsh and stinging in all the right ways, it scrapes and scratches against your inner thighs and you’re drooling from both ends at the rough treatment.

It’s not enough, not nearly enough, and you tell him so.

“If you don’t shove that cock in me soon I’m gonna scream.” You warn, wrists straining against the cuffs as you try and reach for something to ground yourself with.

“You wouldn’t dare – ” He pulls back, scrambling up to clamp a hand over your mouth when you absolutely do dare, when you take in a deep breath and let out just the tiniest fraction of a second of a scream loose. “Shit (Y/N)!”

“Told you.” You grin, muffled against his hand.

He growls, holds your head down against the side of the car with one hand and frees his cock again with the other, belt and zipper clinking together from the fury behind it. A stunt like that could get you both caught, could lure someone, anyone, to the scene. Some poor hiker might just find you getting fucked blind, and then what would you do?

“Fine, you want to be a brat, be a brat.” He sucked his teeth, growls at you as he guides his cock into you, shoves it in roughly, so so rough. You’re going to be bruised by the end of this, you know that, you moan for it.

“Yes!” You gasp as he splits you on his dick, all ten inches of it forcing its way into you, barely giving you time to adjust.

His hips shove you up and up and up, until you’re up on your tippie toes, and you’re moaning these breathy little whimpers, unable to move, can’t go anywhere with how he’s got you pinned to the side of the car, right out in the open clearing, right there.

He fucks into you fast, balls slapping your ass, and he wants to see your tits but he can’t, and that pisses him off.

“God you’re fucking filthy.” He hisses, seethes as you push back against him, meeting each of his thrusts in time.

“Pot calling the kettle black, c’mon detective, fuck me like you mean it.” You can’t help but laugh, tease, always teasing.

He grabs a hold of your hair and hauls you off the side of the car for a moment, before dropping you down onto the backseat inside the car. It’s easier to fuck you like this, easier for you to take his cock, and you’re moaning loud into the leather upholstery, hands grasping at nothing from where they’re bound behind your back.

You love being manhandled like this, love love love it, love it when he smacks you hard, the back of your thighs stinging from the blow. He does it again, watching as big red welts form, welts that are only going to chafe as he fucks you with his jeans still on his hips.

He bends himself over you, draped himself across your whole back. He covers your mouth with one hand and shoves some fingers down your throat, holds your pelvis down with the other, holds you in place as he rails you so hard that the shocks squeak.

“You gotta be quiet, be quiet for me, be good.” He says over and over, low in your ear.

Your hair is clinging to the sweat on your face, and you’re clenching so tight around him that he knows he’s going to come soon, he knows he will. He doesn’t give a shit, he knows he’ll come again later after his shift, knows you’ll punish him for taking control like this.

“Flip – honey please, please please please.” You’re muffled against his hand, drooling all over his fingers, crying now, because of course you are, because it’s too much, it’s overwhelming, it’s so fucking good.

He pets your hair back and kisses your neck, grinds his cock into you slowly, drags it against your gspot again and again and again.

“Shh, shh, be good. My good girl, c’mon.” He whispers, licks at your cheek, bites your ear. “You can take it, you can take me.”

You’re pressing your sweat and tears into the leather and he wants to make you lick it up, but you do without even being told, wanting to be good for him.

He yanks your head up by your hair and fucks you until he’s coming, until he can feel you gush on his cock and you’re coming too, until the both of you are panting and your throats are dry dry dry from all the gasps you’ve pulled from each other’s throats.

When you’ve both calmed down, Flip is quick to un-do the cuffs around your wrists. He kisses them, soothes them with massaging hands, lavishes love and apologies into the skin there. You let him, let him pull out of you and turn you over, let him fuck the come that’s spilled out back into you with callused fingers.

“You’re lucky we didn’t get caught.” You said, a big grin creeping up on your face.

He stuck his fingers into your mouth and you sucked them clean, and only once they were clean did he go back to carefully righting your clothes, fixing your hair, like you were both at home and not in the back seat of some cop car in the middle of a clearing off the interstate.

“Let’s get you home.” He said, ignoring you, making you roll your eyes and swat at his shoulder.

“Whose car is this anyway?” You asked, suddenly terribly curious as to whose property you just defiled in such a dirty way.

“Trapp’s. He’s sick, me and Jimmy were bringing it to the station for him.” Flip explained, hauling you out of the backseat and opening the passenger door for you like the gentleman he was.

You only shook your head and sat primly in the car, buckling your seatbelt while he went around to sit in the driver’s seat, as he lit his cigarette and turned the car back on.

“You better go through a carwash before turning it in, you asshole.” You laughed, making him grin, because of course he would.

“Keep talking like that and I’ll add on to your speeding ticket.” He teased, and for a minute you thought he was just joking.

“Wait, that ticket was real?” You asked all of a sudden, eyeing the little slip of paper in the cup-holder that had your name on it, literally.

He didn’t say anything as he pulled onto the main road, and it was all you could do but groan and let out an exasperated,

“Flip Zimmerman you’re a dead man!”

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Tagging some pals, lol sorry i just had to get this one out of my system! @adamsnackdriver @dreamboatdriver @kylo-renne @callmehopeless @kyloxfem @formerly-anonhamster @thepilotanon @solotriplets @fullofbees @spinebarrel @bourbonboredom @driverficarchive @rosalynbair @redhairedfeistynerd @glitzescape @adamsnacc-kler @ladygrey03 @venusianmaiden marvelous-blog-221 @edwardseyelashes @softcrybabykid @tinyplanet-explorers

#reader insert #flip zimmerman x reader #flip x reader #blackkklansman #my writing #sinday

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creatingnikki · 4 years

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Dearest Cat,

How has your experience as a 23-year-old been? I’m a month in – exactly – and I think it’s going pretty well. Of course, it’s not like I see any instant growth or changes but I see little new patterns and my stance growing stronger in things that matter, and it’s all been building for the last few years. It’s nice to see it getting finally materialised in actions, however.

I’m sorry about your breakup. I’ve never been in a long-term ‘official’ relationship but I have been in relationships that have fucked with my mind while breaking my heart so I know how it can significantly affect you for a while to come. And take it from someone who tried the long-distance thing for 6 months, it’s never worth it and it never works out anyway.

I have been, quite uncomfortably and amusingly, been watching a lot of Daniel Sloss stand up comedy and I literally just heard him talk about something I think you should hear too:

“When I was seven years old, my dad said something to me that to this day is the reason I will die alone. Very happily, I may add. But I was seven years old, I didn’t know what life was. I didn’t know what existence was, how the fuck would I know? So I thought I’d ask my dad ’cause he can fix a computer, so he must know. So I was like, “Dad, what do we all do? What’s the meaning of life? Why are we all here? What what the fuck?” And my dad loves his kids, so he wants to explain to his son in a way that he’ll understand, but unfortunately, his son’s a fuckhead. So he has to explain it in a way that a fuckhead will understand, and he accidentally did it perfectly, and it’s stuck with me since then.

This is what he said, right? I’m seven years old. He goes, “All right, buddy. Just imagine that your life, my life, everyone else’s individual life. Imagine all of our lives are like our own individual jigsaw puzzles. As we’re going through life, we’re just slowly piecing it together, bit by bit, based on experiences and lessons that we’ve learned until we get the best picture, but the thing is everyone has also lost the box for their jigsaw. So none of us know what the image we’re trying to make is, we’re just confidently fucking guessing. So the best way to do a jigsaw, when you don’t have the image to work off, is to start from the outside, the sides and the four corners. Family. Friends. Hobbies/interests. Job.

Now obviously, as you go through life, some of these bits are subject to change. Sometimes you’ll make new friends, and you’ll lose contact with old so you gotta move this corner around a bit. Sometimes you’ll get a job. That means you can’t have certain hobbies. You gotta decide then, “Do I want more me time or do I want more work time?” You gotta move the stuff around. Sometimes you’ll have a family member that dies, and they’ll leave a big hole in your life. In that moment you’ll have to find a way to fill that void, otherwise you’ll be incomplete forever. ”

Now, that made perfect sense to me, because I was seven years old. I fucking loved jigsaws. So I was like, “All right, okay. So once you’ve got the stuff on the outside, what’s the main bit of the image? What we are all working towards?” And he goes, “Well, that’s That’s the partner piece. You and this perfect person who you’ve never met before to come out of nowhere, fit your life perfectly, complete you and make you whole for the first time in your life, much like your mother did for me. ” Seven. Seven years old. I wish you just said, “Ice cream!” And we could have fucked off.

And even though what he said sounds sweet and whatever, what it manifested in my seven-year-old brain was this, “If you are not with someone, you are broken. If you are not with someone, you are incomplete. If you are not with someone, you are not whole. ”

And that’s not just something my dad made me feel, that’s something that we as a society have made every single child born in the last 40 years feel. Every Disney princess has a prince, every prince has a princess, every television show or movie always has a character in it that doesn’t want to be in a relationship. They’re happy with who they are. But then by the end of the series, guess what. They were wrong! They were wrong for wanting to be alone, what a fucking idiot. Everyone needs someone, yeah. They were just a toasty little marshmallow, weren’t they? It’s all to do with love.

Divorce, an entirely common thing that there is nothing wrong with. When you’re growing up and your friends’ parents get divorced, you’re told to not talk about it or mention it to them because it’s taboo, and it is taboo is because every relationship on the outside is perfect, because none of us are willing to admit that none of us know what the fuck we’re doing. And when you raise children in that world, where everything points towards love and everything’s perfect on the outside, when you’ve raised them for 18 fucking years, when we become an adult for the first time in our late teens and our early 20s, we’re so terrified.

We’re so trying to be an adult that some of us will take the wrong person, the wrong jigsaw piece and just fucking jam them into our jigsaws anyway, denying that they clearly don’t fit. Oh, we’ll move pieces out the way, I don’t need this hobby, I don’t need this opinion. Mom who? The bitch with the tits. What’s she done for me recently? I’m gonna force this fucking person into our lives because we’d much rather have something than nothing. Then five years later, you’re stood looking at a jigsaw you don’t recognize, being like, “Ah! There’s a fucking cunt in the middle of this.”

Maybe you do meet the perfect person. Maybe you meet them, you go out. They make you laugh. You make them laugh. They’ve got a stupid laugh, but you fucking love it. They like what you like. They like your idiosyncrasies. It’s great. It’s perfect. Oh, my God, they’ve completed you. For three months. Every relationship is perfect for three months. And here’s why. ‘Cause after three months, that’s when you realize that nobody else is a jigsaw piece.

Everyone else on this planet is as deep and as complex and individual as you are, which means they too have spent the last 20 or so years of their life working on their own jigsaw puzzle, in the same way that you’ve been working on yours. You can’t suddenly expect them to give up everything they’ve come to achieve to suddenly fit into yours in the same way that you’d be pissed off if they asked you to sacrifice everything you’ve done, suddenly come fit into theirs, but now, because you like each other and because you’re interested in each other, now you have to make a jigsaw together. And we all know how fucking annoying that is. But you do it ’cause you’re in love and you’re interested, and maybe for the first couple years, it’s great. It’s like, “Oh, my God, you love this bit of me. I love this bit of you. Oh, my God, we got the same thing, yeah!”

But time does not equal success. You can spend five or more years with someone, and only then, after all the fun you had, be looking at the jigsaw and realize you’re both working towards very different images. Only then realize that you want different things. And in that moment, you have a very, very difficult question to ask yourself. One. Do I admit the last five years of my life have been a waste? Two. Do I waste the rest of my life? 55% of marriages end in divorce. 99. 0% of relationships that started before they are 30 end. If those were the stats for surgery, none of us would fucking risk it. But because it’s love and we’re stupid, we just lie on the operating table like, “Maybe this time I won’t die inside. ” My generation has become so obsessed with starting the rest of their lives that they’re willing to give up the one they are currently living. We have romanticized the idea of romance, and it is cancerous. People are more in love with the idea of love than the person they are with.”

You should definitely watch his whole special on Netflix. That guy makes you uncomfortable. But he also makes you laugh. And sometimes, like in his above sketch, he makes you really think.

I think he has said all I would want to tell you about your break up – and I hope it’s helpful because I spent 30 minutes trying to find its transcript haha. And I don’t know what his conclusion really is, I still have the rest of the show to watch, but I think….I think love will come to us when it has to. Until then we just have to live our lives with joy and love for ourselves anyway.

Your meaning of love…I described something similar when I spent 13th Feb – the night before Valentine’s Day making my profile on Hinge. And that’s the thing that most people don’t understand – while 90% people I know first care about the physical appearance of the person, I care about whether we connect and have a spark. Whether we can make each other laugh and kinda just be at the same level/frequency. As you said…Connection of minds and souls and knowing each other to your core. Interestingly, there’s something that hit me like a fucking truck a few months ago and I scribbled it down before it had the chance to move on and leave me confused:

All this. Writing in your journal, underlining sentences in books, taking pictures you’ll never put up on social media or show anyone. All this is your consistent and earnest effort to try to communicate and connect with your past self and get to know your future self and coordinate between the three dimensions of who you were, are and will be. It’s all for you. By you. No one else needs to validate you. Or understand you. Or question you. It’s not their place, it never was.

You need to realize the person your past self was trying to become. The person your future self will need to be. You need to have patience when you can’t figure it out. When you feel betrayed. Because no matter how lacking you may be, you will never have any malicious intentions. You’ll not be flaky, you’ll not be weak, you’ll not throw yourself under the bus. Writing letters to yourself, making playlists so meticulously to capture every season, every mood and continuing despite being uncertain and confused…it’s all you reaching out to yourself.

And I think…it’s when we’re earnestly and constantly trying to connect with ourselves when we come across a person who does the same…we will easily and naturally connect with them, their energy.

I realize that due to the Jigsaw sketch by Daniel Sloss this letter has gotten pretty lengthy. But I still want to talk to you for some more. I hope you’re with me and have connected with my words up until now

About the work friends and how they were there for you and made you feel…isn’t that one of the most comforting, lovely and reliving things? Kinda unexpected too, no? I remember last year, a random lunch on a random workday, I looked around at these 4 smart, brilliant, kind and strong women – my co-workers and friends – at the round lunch table talking about meaningful things – personal and worldly – as we always did and just thinking – wow, finally, I finally belong! I’ve always been a very one-to-one person when it came to friends and was never part of a group (other than groups that feel absolutely uncomfortable and unwelcomed) that was so accepting, loving, sensitive and sincere. And smart! Gosh, so damn smart!

Soon after, each of us left that company – horrible management – and it’s been a year now. We are in touch but of course, it’s never going to be the same as before. And that’s okay. Just thinking of those times and them is enough to make me feel as loved and accepted as I did back in those days. And that’s what I want to tell you – you will come across such people who will truly care about you and help you nurture yourself but their life will overlap with yours just for a while. As a child, this would make me sad and angry! Now, it only makes me super grateful and mindful about being present in the moment that is now, in the life I am living right now. And I hope you can too

So, Cat, I don’t know how many months you have of being 23 but I hope they are all, as well as the coming years, full of connecting with yourself, with people that genuinely care about your well-being and growth and with everything that brings you joy and peace.

Lots of love,

Nikki

I wrote this letter for Nura basis some questions they answered. You can read the questions and their answers here.

Guys - I have received 29 people’s responses for The Love Project - 29 days of love letters. So I won’t be accepting anymore, however, you can read other letters here.

I may do this again later in the year and if you would want to receive a love letter from me then, you can drop in your email ID here xoxo

#the love project #29 days of love letters #letter 12 #love letters #february 2020 #happy february #valentine's day #let me write you love letters #creatingnikki #love #heartbreak #break up #daniel sloss

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talpup · 4 years

Text

Erase the Shadow: 11

Summary: Despite sharing dreams with Teris for as long as he can remember, Aizawa Shouta never believed in soulmates. That was until he met Teris in the real world on his first day at UA. Trouble is, Teris doesn’t know anything about their shared dreams. And the one time Shouta tried to tell her, he nearly lost her completely.

Five years after graduating from UA, Shouta still believes Teris is his soulmate. But things have only gotten worse. Teris moved to another town shortly after graduation. And now she’s dating his best friend Yamada Hizashi.

Please remember, this fic is rated explicit and has warnings of sex, violence, and other possible triggers.

***If you prefer reading off AO3 here’s the link for that: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22027552/chapters/55042846

11.1

Even though one of Shouta’s patrol nights was Tuesday, he never scheduled anything on the night of the new moon. The UA staff worker who kept track of the patrols pro hero teachers went on had once jokingly asked if he was a weird kind of Werewolf, changing on nights with no moon instead of the full.

Shouta hadn’t found the quip clever or funny; instead he had been irked that she had figured out something he considered private and personal. For him, it was bad enough that UA kept track of the patrols their staff went on.

It wasn’t so much that UA worried their pro hero teachers weren’t going out enough; but rather that they were going out too much. The cap on how many hours a pro hero who taught at UA could go out on patrol was taken very seriously by the administration of UA.

Since teaching and heroing were both stressful, consuming jobs they didn’t want their hero teachers getting burnt out, or falling down on the job of teaching the next generation of heroes.

As it was, Shouta reached the patrol hours of the cap every semester. Not an hour more. And certainly not an hour less. Even with Teris now living in Musutafu, he still didn’t have anything better to do with his time. He could only hang out with Hizashi and her so much before he officially became a third wheel. And his heart could only take seeing her with Hizashi so much before it became too painful.

Shouta laid out in his cold, empty bed.

Growing up sleep had never been hard to find at night, not when his soulmate was guaranteed to greet him in his dreams. After the break he had caused when he had failed to convince her of the truth and their nightly shared dreams had agonizingly become once every new moon, sleep had become harder for him to find. But now that he was a hero and a teacher, he was always so exhausted that sleep sometimes came too easy.

He just hoped that Teris would get close to a full nights sleep tonight.

11.2

It was late, or more correctly early morning by the time Hizashi shut off the light in his makeshift studio and made his way to the bedroom.

He was glad to see Teris had turned in. With winter break nine days away she needed the sleep. Though he was mildly annoyed that he hadn’t gotten his goodnight kiss. But that was his own fault. The door to the office he had soundproofed had been closed. It wasn’t exactly an ‘on air’ light but it might as well have been.

He entered the bedroom and smiled at her sleeping form. He really was the luckiest man alive. She was so beautiful.

He took off his glasses and pulled off his shirt, yawning.

He hadn’t meant to stay awake so late on a school night; but with the end of semester he would be too busy later in the week with school work to hammer out his radio shows playlist.

Hizashi turned to his sleeping girlfriend when her steady breathing hitched. He smirked, watching her hips dance under the covers.

“What kinda dream are you having there, Love? Something naughty involving me?” He whispered, crawling into bed.

Slowly, Hizashi pulled the back the covers exposing her to him.

“Damn, Ris. Your panties are soaked, Babe.”

Her hardened nibbles were easily made out beneath the thin cotton tank top. And Hizashi couldn’t stop himself from thumbing one of them.

Teris squirmed in bed, legs squeezing together. A soft moan sounded from slightly parted lips, even as her brow furrowed in frustration.

“Need some help there, Ris Wren?”

11.3

“I wish I could help you, Kitten.”

“I want that so bad, Shouta.” Teris’ unsteady voice panted.

Seated in a chair at the foot of the bed, Shouta groaned.

If watching each other get themselves off in the dreamscape felt this good, he could only imagine how good it would actually be in the real world where they could touch each other.

Kneeling on the end of the bed, Teris watched Shouta slowly pump his thick length. She wanted so desperately to reach out and wrap her own hand around the weeping cock. To take his dick into her mouth and taste him. She wished he could drive his pulsing dick inside her and make her breathless with his kisses.

“Shouta!”

“Are you close, Kitten?”

She moaned at his low voice. Just hearing him did things to her.

“Close your eyes and imagine its my fingers.” He commanded.

She bit her lower lip and nodded, eyes falling shut.

They usually talked each other through their orgasms while the other had their eyes closed. It helped make the fantasy that they were getting each other off more real.

“You’re so good for me, Ris. So beautiful and perfect.” His hungry eyes panned over her naked body. “You got the prettiest pussy.”

“Shou...” Teris blushed.

He focused on her wet, swollen cunt; his hand pumping his cock. “It’s true.”

“How—do you—know? Seen many?” She panted.

“Just yours. Nor do I want to see another’s. I love you, Teris. I don’t want anyone else but you.”

“Raven!”

Shouta gave a lustful groan at the pet name.

Teris’ pumping fingers moved faster, harder. The circles she rubbed against her clit tightened as the coil tightened within her.

Shouta’s own hand quickened. “You’re the only one I want to be with, Ris. The only one I want to feast on. And I would feast on you for hours. Lapping at that hot wet pussy. Sucking on your clit. Driving my tongue in and out of your tight little cunt. I’d make you cum so many times. And just when you started to think you couldn’t take it anymore, I would kiss you and let you taste yourself on my tongue.”

“Shou! Please!”

“You’d relax, thinking we were done but that was just the beginning. A dessert first if you will. But for the main course...”

“You—you’d put your cock in me?”

Shouta gave a single thrust into his hand. “You know I will, Kitten. I’d stretch you out and fill you up--”

“Shou! Ah!”

He closed his eyes imagining that his physical actions were pulling those noises from her. She was seconds away from cumming and she always sounded so good when she did. He wanted to memorize her voice crying out, singing his name.

But instead everything went silent. The dream stopped.

Shouta opened his eyes, cursing.

11.4

“Shhh...” Teris breathed, her hips lifting slightly, pressing against Hizashi's mouth.

Hizashi’s eyes flicked up to her, scowling.

No. He told himself. Surely not. She couldn’t be dreaming about…

Attention diverted, he thrusted his fingers into her wet heat a little too roughly.

“Shou—it. Shit!” Teris fell back into bed panting.

Hizashi gritted his teeth. He might’ve been able to convince himself otherwise before, but with the way she woke up…

He lifted up off her, licking around his lips. “That must’ve been some dream, Baby.”

“Huh?” Teris blinked at him in confusion.

“Who was it about?”

She shook her muddled head and stared down at her boyfriend. “What are you doing?”

“Helping you out, Babe. I thought you were dreaming about me.”

If Teris were more awake she would have picked up on the allegation in Hizashi's tone. But she was still having trouble piecing together what happened.

There was a heat in her belly and a slickness between her legs. She was sweaty and out of breath. And though she could’ve sworn that she woke up with Shouta's name on her lips, she couldn’t remember the dream.

“I don’t remember my dreams.” She admitted.

“Well I guess it couldn't have been that good.” Hizashi's thumb pressed against her swollen clit.

“Za—ah!”

“That’s better.”

There was no way Hizashi could deny who her dream had been about. She had practically said Shouta's name. But he wasn’t going to push. Instead he was going to make her voice hoarse from calling out his name.

“Tell me who you belong to, Baby.”

“Zashi. You know I don’t--”

His fingers thrusted into her hard. “Tell me.”

Teris cried out, hips rocking.

“You’re so close to cumming, Wren. But I’m not gonna let you. Only good girls get to cum.”

“I—I’m good.”

He shook his head, lips lightly brushing back and forth against her clit. “Good girls obey.”

“Zashi. Please!”

Even though she didn’t remember the dream that led her here, she had been so close to cumming that being kept on the edge was torment.

“You beg so pretty for me, Baby.”

“Please.” She breathed, her whispered voice and eyes begging him for release.

“You know what you have to do, Beautiful.”

Teris squeezed her eyes shut.

It was pointless not to give in, she always did eventually. Hizashi just had this way about him. Still, she refused to give in so easily. If only for the principle of the thing. He knew she didn’t like using such terms of ownership. Yes, she was his girlfriend and she loved him; but she didn’t belong to him. And even though she was sure he didn’t take the words to heart and think he completely owned her, it still grated to say such words.

Hizashi didn’t try to cajole her the way he usually did, telling her that relationships were about comprise, give and take, and that if she gave him what he wanted then he would give her what she wanted. Instead he took pleasure in her frustrated torment. He wanted her give in; but also wanted her remain stubborn so he could deny her.

She had been dreaming about Shouta. But not just any dream, that would have been bad enough. He wasn’t sure if he believed that she didn’t remember her dream. Wasn’t sure which was worse, her remembering or not.

His pumping fingers twisted inside her.

“Zashi!”

“You know what you have to do, Baby.” His tongue vibrated against her clit.

Her hands fisted in his hair, pulling him closer to her need. “Please! Please, Sunshine. I—I need...”

“I know what you need, my Love. But first you have to give me what I need. Come on Ris Wren. Tell me who you belong to.”

When she didn’t give in, Hizashi stifled a growl and bit the inside of her thigh. He suck harshly leaving his mark.

Lapping at the bruise, he murmured. “So pretty.” He nuzzled the junction of her hip. “I’m the Master of Rhythm and know your body, Babe. I can keep you hangin’ right on that edge till sunrise.”

“You.” Teris panted.

Hizashi fought down a grin of victory. “What was that, my Love?”

“You!”

“Me what?”

“Zashi... Don’t make me say it.”

“The whole point of this is you saying it.” He gave her cunt a slurping lick, relishing the taste of her.

“Ah! Zashi!”

“That’s it pretty bird. Sing my name. Be a good girl and tell me who you belong to.”

“You! I belong to you!”

“That’s it, Precious. Say it again.”

Teris stared at him with lust blown pupils. “I belong to you.”

“Perfect. Now say it using my name.”

“Zashi!” She whined, body trembling.

“Come on, Baby. You’re doing so good. You’re so close, Sweet One. I can feel you clamping down and spasming around my fingers. Damn, Baby, you’re so tight! I wanna fuck you good and proper.

“Yes! Please, Zashi. Fuck me.”

He thrusted his long fingers hitting her spot, his thumb rubbing quick, tight circles on her clit. “First tell me who you belong to and say my name.”

“Zashi! You! I belong to you! I belong to Yamada Hizashi!”

“That’s it.” Hizashi praised. “Now sing for me and say my name when you cum.”

It only took two more thrusts for her body to lock up.

“Hi—za—shi!” Teris cried out as she was pushed over the edge.

Hizashi groaned, loving the way her walls tightened and quivered around his fingers. He felt the damp spot in his underwear grow, more precum leaking out of his throbbing dick.

She’s never cried out Shouta's name and begged him to fuck her; but she has for me time and again, he thought. She couldn’t even remember her stupid dream about him.

“You gonna clean my fingers for me, Ris?” He asked pulling them out of her.

Teris opened her mouth.

Hizashi grinned. “Such a good little Wren for me.”

Her lips closed around his fingers with a moan.

Hizashi groaned at the feel of her lapping tongue. “That’s it, Baby. Clean ‘em real good.”

She blinked blearily at him, the ease of her release adding to the exhaustion she had had before going to bed.

Hizashi pulled his fingers from her mouth and tapped them against her lips. “Don’t fall asleep. We still got the main event.”

He rose up to his knees and pushed down his underwear. Taking himself to hand, he gave himself a few loose fisted pumps, careful of his piercings.

He leaned over her. “You asked me to fuck you. And I always give my girl what she wants.”

Teris ran a hand up his chest, her other tucking his long blonde hair behind his ear. “If that were true you would’ve let me cum.”

“Did I not let you cum when you did what I wanted?”

Before she could answer he smashed his lips against hers. At the taste of her essence on her lips, he moaned.

Her arms wrapped around his neck, legs wrapping around his waist.

“You ready for me, Baby?”

She nodded, nipping at his throat. “Fuck me, Zashi.”

Her hot breath rolled over his sensitive neck making his body tremble. “Damn, Baby. You’re killin’ me.”

Her hips lift to him, legs tugging him closer.

The sound of her starting to say Shouta's name replayed in his mind. He needed to drown it out and replace it with her calling out his name.

“Tell me again to fuck you, Sweetheart.”

“Fuck me.”

“Use my name.”

“Please, Zashi. Fuck me.”

He kissed her again, his tongue exploring the well known cavern of her mouth. Giving in to her tugging legs, his hips lowered. His cock glided through her heated, swollen slit.

Teris shivered at the delightful feel of his hard dick and piercings sliding between her folds.

His cock rubbed against her still oversensitive clit.

“Zashi!”

Her nails dug into his shoulders making Hizashi hiss.

“That’s it, Baby. Say my name. Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

Her hands tangled in his hair. “Fuck me, Zashi. Wreck me.”

She couldn’t have explained it if asked, but despite the daily sex they had she felt pent up and horny. She wasn’t usually so aggressive, even when she wanted to be. It usually took Hizashi coaxing that side out of her, but not tonight.

Legs and arms wrapped around him, Teris pulled him close and used her strength and weight to flip them.

Surprise by the act, Hizashi went easily.

Laid out on his back, he looked up at her.

Legs straddling him, Teris sat up and gave a breathy smile of satisfaction. “Didn’t see that coming. Did ya?”

He shook his head, hands trailing up her thighs. He would've asked what came over her if he wasn’t certain that he already knew.

Leave it to a dream about Shouta to make her to let go and do what I always gotta convince her to do, he thought hatefully.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her down to him. Hand gripping the back of her neck, he kissed her hard not giving her room to pull away and catch her breath.

With a parting bite to her lower lip he told. “Much as I love you taking charge, Babe. I’m running the show tonight. No one but me is gonna make you sing. No one.” He flipped them back over, pinning her bent arms to either side of her head. “You’re my girl, and I’m the only one whose gonna make you scream in pleasure.”

Teris’ stared at him in confusion. Was this some light form of roleplay? Who else would make her cry out in ecstasy? She hadn’t been with anyone else other than Hizashi. Even long before they had gotten together, there had been no one else.

She didn’t want anyone else. No. That wasn’t entirely true. She wanted-- She halted that thought and shook it away.

“Are you saying I can’t ride you and use you for my own pleasure, Sunshine? I thought you liked it when I did that. You ask me to do it often enough.” She rolled her hips up to him making him groan.

“I do.” He admitted. “But not tonight, Ris.” He released her arms and pushed up to his knees. “Tonight, every sound you make is gonna be because I pulled it outta you.” He lined his cock up and slowly pushed in. “Didn’t you ask me to wreck you?” Sheathed to the hilt, he groaned. “I’m gonna to exactly that, Baby.”

Teris tugged at his forearm, wanting him over her. “Zashi.”

He fell forward, baring his weight on his palms. “I told you. I always give my girl what she wants.”

His hips pulled back and thrusted forward.

Teris moaned, legs shaking around him.

“That’s it, Ris. Sing for me.” He kissed and nipped at her neck.

“Zashi… No marks.”

Ignoring her, his hips set a merciless pace as he continued to suck and bite at her neck.

Teris tugged at his hair, crying out in pleasure and warning. “Zashi!”

“It’s alright, Baby.”

“You can mark me up during break.”

“I wanna claim my girl now.” Hizashi panted, rolling his hips so his dick hit her spot inside and pelvis ground against her clit.

Teris’ eyes rolled in the back of her head for a moment. It felt so overwhelmingly good. The way his piercings rolled inside her. The heated thrum of his hard, rutting cock. Even the kissing bites he gave her neck…

“School.” She said, in a last ditched effort to deter him, even as her head tilted giving him better access.

“Good thing it’s cold enough to wear a scarf, cause I don’t give a damn.” He muttered harshly.

“Fu—ah!” Her nails raked down his back at his hard sucking bite. “Za—ah!”

“That’s it, Baby. Scream for me. Call me name and tell me I’m the only one who can make you feel this way.”

She tried to do as his said, but he was fucking her so hard and fast he was fucking the breath out of her.

“Damn, Baby. You sound so good. I love that wet, hungry smacking sound your pussy when I pump my cock in. You’re so good for me, Baby. So good and mine. All mine. Scream for me.”

She cried out, taking his cock and rough kissing bites. There was nothing else she could do. Nothing else she wanted to do.

Shouta’s face flashed in her mind. Sucking in a ragged gasp, she forced open her eyes. Staring at Hizashi, the tightly wound coil broke. She screamed, her mouth lolling open, drool seeping out.

“Fuck!” Hizashi's hips staggered when her pussy clamped down around him, becoming impossibly tighter.

He pumped his pulsing dick into her quivering cunt, cumming with a shout.

11.5

“Aizawa.” Kan greeted passing him in the hall.

Shouta grunted, continuing his way to the staff break room. Coffee. It wouldn’t help his mood but at least it would help keep him awake.

He opened the door, stepped in, and almost turned around. Why did Hizashi have to be there? He wasn’t in the mood for his cheery best friend. Not when Hizashi was likely the reason Teris had woken up and hadn’t returned to sleep.

At the sound of the door, Hizashi spun around.

His ready smile faltered for a brief second before catching and growing. Though Hizashi wasn’t exactly happy to see his best friend he couldn’t be mad at him. It wasn’t as if Shouta had actually visited Teris in her dreams and did something to make her almost say his name.

“Shou! Just the man I needed.”

“It’s too early, Mic.” Shouta grumbled, not up to any of Hizashi's schemes.

“Come on, Eraser.” Hizashi took a step toward him.

That’s when Shouta glimpsed Teris. The rest of the world faded away only to have it rudely crashing back with Hizashi’s loud voice.

“Will you tell my girl that scarves are fashionable.”

“As if Shouta's known for his fashion.” Teris scoffed, tugging sourly at the material wrapped around her neck.

Hizashi turned back to her. “What happened to keeping things formal at school?”

“School hasn’t started yet.” She shrugged.

In truth she hadn’t meant to call Shouta by his given name. But, she was upset with Hizashi about having to wear a stupid scarf and wasn’t about to be corrected by him.

Seeing the scarf around Teris’ neck, Shouta's right eye twitched. She had yet to wear one all fall. And seeing as there had been colder days, it was easy to imagine what it was hiding.

Angry bile rose in Shouta’s throat.

He swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing. At least the damned thing matched her costume well enough to be assumed as part of her cold season gear. He considered giving extra work and detention to any of his students who questioned her about it, but wondered if that would make his feelings for her too obvious.

Hizashi felt almost desperate. First Teris had practically said Shouta's name in her sleep and now she was saying it at school. She didn’t even say his given name at school! He couldn’t loose her. He loved her more than anything. Heck! He would give up his radio show for her. He’d swear off music completely if it meant keeping her.

Feigning an easy lightness he didn’t feel, Hizashi said. “Shouta wears a scarf all the time.”

“It’s a capture weapon, not a scarf.” Shouta deadpanned.

Angry as he was, Shouta expected, even hoped, that his friend would remark that his capture weapon acted like a scarf. And that on cooler days when Shouta wasn’t wearing his capture weapon, he often wore a scarf to stay warm and hide behind.

When Hizashi didn’t argue that point, it annoyed Shouta even further. Much as he didn’t want to be around his friend right now, he needed Hizashi to be his usual pushy self. It was the only thing that would help quicken his getting over this latest resentment.

Sighing, Shouta made his way to the coffee maker, shouldering passed the other man.

“Tch.” Hizashi stumbled out of the way. “Someone woke up on the wrong side of bed. What’s with you?”

Teris looked over her lesson plans. She knew better than to get between the two friends, especially when whatever was going on didn’t concern her.

“I hate mornings.” Shouta mumbled.

Hizashi rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses. “Yeah. But you seem grumpier than usual. What’s up?”

It’s not like you have a reason to be upset, Hizashi thought staring at he best friends back. It’s not like your girlfriend was having a sexy dream and almost said my name. Then again you’d have to have a girlfriend first and don’t; because you keep hanging out with me and mine.

Do you really think I don’t know what you’re doing, Shou? That I don’t see you undressing my girl with your eyes when you think no one’s looking? You’re suppose to be my friend, not want my girlfriend.

Hizashi placed a hand on Shouta's shoulder hoping the contact would ground him and drown out the hateful thoughts.

Shouta tensed. The urge to rip the friendly hand off and twist Hizashi's arm till he wrenched the joint from its socket was so strong that his hand shook as he poured coffee.

“Talk to me man.” Hizashi prodded. “Did one of the alley cats you feed die? Get turned down on another date?” He glanced back at Teris. “There’s plenty of other fish in the sea, Buddy. Just go out and find one.”

Preferably one that’s not taken and not mine, Hizashi thought.

Shouta set the coffee pot down and stepped away for him. “I’m fine. Just didn’t sleep well.”

“So a regular night for you then.” Hizashi chuckled.

Shouta looked longing at Teris from behind a fallen fringe of wavy, black hair.

Why did you let Yamada wake you up, he silently questioned. Last night was our time. Our night. The only night I can be with you without this hated facade of distant indifference. You’re not his, Kitten. You’re mine. And I’m yours. Wonderful as these four months of joint patrols have been, I needed last night. I needed to be with you without concern of showing my love for you. I needed to see and feel your love as well. Can’t you see this breaking me, Teris? Seeing you with someone else. Why won’t you remember our dreams? Is our love that forgettable?

Shouta spun around and made for the door.

“Shou! I hate seeing you like this, Man.”

“I said I’m fine.”

“We should hang out.” Hizashi called after him.

“During break.” Shouta rumbled without a backwards glance.

Just the idea of possibly getting to see Teris outside of a work setting made his heart beat faster. Damn, Shouta thought. He was far too easy.

“Great!” Hizashi smiled.

And if you think we’re hanging out with my girl you’re wrong, Eraser. As if I’d give you extra chances to wiggle your way into her head. She’s mine. And I’m keeping her as far away from you--

Taking up her coffee, Teris stepped to the door.

“Where ya going?” Hizashi asked, thoughts interrupted.

He grimaced, his voice harsher than intended. Now was not the time to loose his composure.

“I got papers to grade and an end of semester exam to finish up.” She looked back to find Hizashi wearing a mild scowl.

Had she really upset him by using Shouta's given name at work? She hadn’t intended to do it. It had just come out.

Even though she was still upset with him for marking her up, she couldn’t stand to see the slight pinch in her boyfriend’s brow. Before she could reason herself out of it, Teris rushed back to Hizashi's side and pulled him down by his leather jacket.

She gave his cheek a light peck. “See you at lunch, Sunshine.”

“Baby...”

She wiggled away before his arms could fully enclose her and swatted at his groping hands. “Yamada!”

“What happened to kisses and Sunshine?”

“This Is why I don’t do things like that. I give you a slice and you try to take the loaf.”

“I’ll take the whole bakery, Babe--”

“Can you at least try to pretend to have some small level of professionalism?”

Hizashi wiggled his eyebrows at her. “What can I say, Shadow. I just can’t get enough of you.”

Sighing heavily, Teris shook her head and made for the exit.

“What?” Hizashi called. “I used your hero name. That’s professional, right?”

11.6

Since Hizashi didn’t want Teris to know that he was meeting with Nemuri he had to wait until Thursday night.

Nemuri slid into the back corner booth, across the table from Hizashi. “And you said Teris needed to cut down on her patrols. If she listened to you we wouldn’t have been able to meet like this.”

“If she listened to me, we wouldn’t have to meet at all.” Hizashi muttered under his breath.

“What was that, Sweetie?”

Hizashi’s fingers tapped a rapped beat on the table top. “Nothing. You need something to eat? Drink?”

Nemuri noted the three empty bottles near Hizashi. “I’m good. But if you haven’t eaten you should.”

“Ris and I had dinner before her patrol.”

She smiled softly and slipped off her jacket. “So. What’s this clandestine meeting about, Sugar?”

“Teris.”

“I know that, Zashi. I’m not a fool. Asking to meet and for me not to tell Teris is a pretty clear sign that this is about her. Although,” she lifted a shoulder, “I suppose your wanting to meet in secret could be because you wanna go back to the friends with benefits we had before the two of you got together. Which in a round about way would still be about her, I guess.”

Hizashi opened his mouth to talk, but Nemuri went on.

“FYI, Sweetie. If it is the later. Much as it pains me. I’ll have to say no. Teris is my closest girlfriend, and I don’t have fun with taken people unless their partners agree and are present. Which is sad, cause you’re still one of the best lays I’ve ever had.”

“I don’t wanna restart our friends with benefits.” Hizashi told, the idea preposterous now that he had the woman he always wanted.

Nemuri waited for him to continue.

Eyes on one of the bottles, Hizashi picked at its label.

Finally he muttered. “I think I’m losing her.”

“You didn’t tell her about our friends with benefits, did you? It might've been before you two got together but Teris can be funny when it comes to stuff like that. She--”

“No! I didn’t tell her. Will you quit bringing it up!” Hizashi snapped.

Nemuri blinked at the outburst.

It was rare for Hizashi’s happy and kind demeanor to slip so completely, even when he was upset. Her heart went out to him. He must really be worried.

Mask returning, Hizashi gave a small apologetic smile. “Sorry.”

“Zashi. We might not be… You know. But that doesn’t mean you have to keep that other side of you locked away. No one else we know is here. It’s just us. You don’t have to worry about letting those darker parts out around me.”

If only you knew just how dark those darker parts are, Hizashi thought. Still, even though he hadn’t fully let go, those nights he and Nemuri had shared before he and Teris got together had been a welcomed outlet in more ways than one.

“She was having some sort of sex dream and said Shouta's name.” He told.

Nemuri had to tamp down the thrill of relief she felt. She hated that her gain was Hizashi's loss. But the Void was growing ever more impatient, and she didn’t think she could go through another sampling of what would happen if she failed him.

Not wanting her voice to betray her, she took a moment before asking. “She actually said Shouta's name?”

“Basically.”

Disappointed, she sighed. “Zashi. Basically isn’t a name. Are you sure your not reading too much into this?”

“No, Kayama. I’m not reading too much into this. And for the record. I blame you.”

“Me? What did I do?”

“You’re the reason they’re going out on patrols together.” Hizashi sulked.

“I only mentioned that they should patrol together.”

“Which you never should've done! You know Shouta likes her!”

“No, Zashi. I know Shouta loves her. As you know it too.”

Hizashi looked away frowning. “I loved her first.”

“Maybe. But that doesn’t change the fact.”

“She’s my girlfriend!”

“That you just admitted you were afraid you were losing.”

While Hizashi's voice had built, Nemuri's had grown softer. It was a dangerous game she was playing, but she couldn’t live with herself if she had a hand in breaking any of her friends hearts. Besides, she was pretty sure that no matter how Teris and Hizashi broke up, Teris wouldn’t get with Shouta right away. Teris would be too concerned about ruining Hizashi and Shouta's friendship, and would more than likely move away than chance doing so.

Course decided, Nemuri asked. “Do you remember the reason Teris gave when she said she wouldn’t date you back in UA?”

“She said that no matter how much she wanted to say yes, she couldn’t. That she gave up so much to be there that she couldn’t chance getting distracted.” Hizashi shrugged a shoulder, pouting. “It made sense. She lost her family and name cause of her choice to become a hero.”

“She would've said yes to Aizawa.”

“What!”

Nemuri grimaced at Hizashi's near quirk out.

Hizashi shook his head. “No.”

“It’s true.”

“But that whole mess with Shouta trying to kiss her and pretending they were soulmates.”

“She was rather upset with the timing and way Shouta went about confessing his feelings. But by Monday she was more upset about her reaction and worried if Shouta would still have her.”

Hizashi frowned, deep lines prominent between his tightly knitted eyebrows. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I know you want her to be happy.”

“I’m not breaking up with her! She’s happy with me! I make her happy!”

“Shouta clearly makes her happy too.”

“She’s with me!”

“You both love her.”

“So!”

“And she loves the both of you.”

Though the tension in his body was still present, Hizashi visibly relaxed at that.

That’s right, he thought. Teris loves me. She’s said as much. She’s never told Shouta she loved him. Then again, how would he know if she had? The two spent so much time alone together while on patrol. Who knows what they got up to.

Hizashi shook his head. No. Teris was too upright. Shouta was his best friend. They wouldn’t do anything like that.

“You should share her.”

“WHAT!” This time Hizashi did quirk out, but he was too shocked and upset to care. “What did you say?” He asked, his voice much lower and heated.

“It would make Shouta and Teris happy.”

“I make Teris happy!”

“You wouldn’t be worried about losing her to him.” Nemuri went on.

“I’m not sharing Teris with Shouta. She’s my girlfriend.”

“It’s not like you two haven’t shared stuff before.”

“Teris isn’t some pen or sweet bun. She’s my girlfriend.”

“But considering we’re having this meeting, you’re unsure how long she’ll remain your girlfriend.”

“I’m not sharing her with Shouta.” Hizashi repeated.

Nemuri shrugged. The seed had been planted. Now all she had to do was wait and hope that it bore fruit.

I'm REALLY interested to know who you all are rooting for so far? Is Shouta's angst breaking your heart? So is Hizashi's sweeter side winning you over?

If you enjoyed reading this at all please comment and let me know. Since I post for free, think of it as nice way of leaving a tip. And since comments are the only thing that encourages me to keep editing and posting, it’s also a benefit for you.

Thank you to those who have left hearts. And a VERY special thank you to those who have left comments or reblogged. They REALLY mean a lot.

As always, an extra special thank you to @inorganicone2230 for their encouragement and friendship. Also for them reading a good portion of this chapter and helping better define Hizashi's thoughts in the 5th scene as well as plot bunny this story out. This fic was my personal guilty pleasure, and without them never be getting posted.

#bnha #aizawa shouta #shouta aizawa #hizashi yamada #yamada hizashi #eraserhead #present mic #yandere hizashi #yandere #nemuri kayama #my hero academia #erase the shadow

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