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ofallthingsnasty · 2 years

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bargain

Pairing: Yamada Hizashi | Present Mic x F!Reader x Aizawa Shota | Eraserhead Tags: hard noncon, dead dove: do not eat, double vaginal penetration, yandere, established relationship (not the nice kind), double creampie, pwp Word count: 2.3k Summary: There are still things left to explore for them.

Note: Some time ago, the wonderful @akicore wrote this amazing fic - and it really got me thinking. So here it is, another pwp with my favorite (disgusting) duo! I’m not posting from my usual setup, so any formatting issues will have to wait another week for me to fix and I apologize for that. Requests/thirsts are open!

They’ve done everything, it seems. You’ve been pissed on, endured painfully underprepared anal sex, took hits and beatings with a smile when Hizashi wanted to play out his sadistic little fantasies, uttered every degrading little sentence you could ever think of, played dog and pet and whatnot. And by now, you know that protests are useless, that you’ll never get out of here. Between the unrelenting wall of muscle that is Shouta and the eerie ministrations of his husband, Hizashi, there is very little you can do, really. They’re stronger than you, two pro-heroes who have more wit than they let on, more experience with capturing than you could gain in your lifetime. Even if you did somehow manage to leave, if you were to go to the police, who would believe you? It’d be a ridiculous notion to anyone - two pros, two teachers at the ridiculously established UA, kidnapping a random woman, a nobody, to desecrate her, to turn her into their disgusting little sex toy? The concept alone could make anyone laugh. You’re too old to be blue-eyed and naive about how you’d be perceived and you’re too aware of your soft body to even try to fight back, to run. So you stay. And let them do whatever they want. They don’t see you as something to use - or at least that’s what they say. They still do it, only with lovesick eyes and gentle words. In fact, they consider you some ghoulish version of a wife. You’re gifted jewelry, given trinkets here and there - gentle kisses on the crown of your head when they leave for work, arms around you when you wake up in the mornings, coffee made just how you like it, your favorite food… It could be nice, you sometimes think, to be here out of your own volition. But you feel so little nowadays. Very few things incite shame within you now, make tears prick at your eyes. You’ve been used too often, have been made to do unspeakable things so that you don’t even bat an eye at most requests now. They don’t seem to mind, they prefer you complacent and demure. They don’t care about your pleasure, either. The elusive orgasm you’re allowed is forced out of you by rough fingers and eager tongues, but it’s a luxury, not the norm. Not that they’re particularly enjoyable, either. You have no delusion about coming today, either. You’re on your back, with Shouta buried deep inside underneath you. He reaches deep like this, and lazily fucks up into you as he holds you. If he’s in the mood, he’ll press two calloused fingers to your clit, but he mainly likes to lock your throat in with his left arm, just like now. Hizashi lingers over you, just as naked as you. His hair is down, still damp from the shower he took an odd hour ago. He smells nice, a familiar scent that wafts up your nose as he crawls just a little closer to you, his usual grin on his face. He thinks himself suave and charming every time he does it, when in reality it’s just your countdown for the real torture to start. You’re almost comfortable as you are right now, with Shouta only slightly moving and your cunt already adjusted to him. Whatever the other man has planned for you can only make things painful now. He’s usually the driving force behind the more degenerate acts you’re forced into, always the one to kickstart foul little obsessions between the two of them. His blond hair tickles your cheek as he leans down, so close you can feel his body heat. The world is only him for a moment, those vivid green eyes so close to your own, the smell of his breath on your lips. He says nothing as he stares you down, that wicked grin shrinking into something softer. You think he might kiss you but then he breaks away, nimble hands landing on your waist, abruptly stopping the motions of the man beneath you. There is a wordless conversation held between the two men, one you're not privy to. It’s nothing new to you, but it makes a shiver run down your spine. Who knows what’s in store for you today - you just hope they’ll go easy on you this time. But then Hizashi smiles. Shouta’s dick twitches in your cunt as he holds you just a little tighter, snug against his sweaty chest. His nose bumps against your head from beneath and he murmurs something you can’t quite decipher. “Come on”, Hizashi cooes at you, his hands sliding down to your already split open cunt, just grazing your clit as they move. “We’ll have to prepare you a little, hm?” One settles on the underside of your right thigh, the other one gets dangerously close to where you and Shouta are already joined. You clench at the contact - your inner lips are sensitive from being stretched and chafed, just enough that his gentle touch burns a little. He doesn’t waste any time, doesn’t hesitate even as your eyes go comically wide - he slips a finger in alongside Shouta’s cock and you hiss at the sensation. It’s not enough to be too much just yet, but you can still feel it, every single bump and dent of it. You don’t know why he would do this, though - is it the thrill of touching both you and Shouta? Does he want to make you more loose? But what for, really? Another finger slips in and Hizashi croons above you, something about how well you’re doing for them. You stare at him with a furrowed brow, both trying to figure out what his goal is and to ignore the ever-growing burn as he tries to scissor you open with something already inside. He’s painfully hard as he works you even more open and something tickles the back of your mind as you stare at his cock, twitching with anticipation. The realization hits you like a freight train - they’re trying to fuck you in the same hole. They never outright discuss their desires with you, you’re never a part of those conversations because if you were, you would get to say no. Your breath is knocked out of your lungs as you go limp against Shouta, the motion awarded with praise and another finger. You can’t take it- you won’t- it won’t fit. Your thoughts run wild in your head, a never ending circle of no, no, no, you’ll break me- you’ll hurt me. And for the first time in months, you break your silent compliance, your obedience. “No, no, please-”, you grunt out, strained and meek. Words are spilling out of your mouth like water, words you don’t even register. Tiny pleas, earnest words of worry all fall on deaf ears. “Baby”, Hizashi brows draw upwards with fake concern as he stops his motions for a precious second. “Don’t be like that, now.” But you don’t care for his acting right now, nor do you care for the punishment that looms at your disobedience - you desperately want to get out of this, happy to take him in your ass, your throat, anywhere else, anywhere but your cunt. You can’t even imagine the both of them straining against the thin walls of your cunt. The arm around your neck tightens as you try to pry it away with clammy fingers and Hizashi looks at you with so much fake pity in his eyes you actually start to cry. “Please”, you sob in earnest, genuinely afraid of being hurt. “Not this. Anything but this, please.” He actually grins. And doesn’t say anything. You’re left to quietly sob and flail about as best as you can against Shouta, the man beneath you keeping you in a vice grip now. Hizashi watches your teary eyes for another couple of seconds, slipping his disgustingly wet hand out of you, watches his husband mutter words of encouragement into your ear. They don’t reach you. You’re beside yourself, panicked to the point that even Shouta’s cock feels wrong now, your pelvic floor so tight he almost slips out of you. You don’t know left from right for a terribly long moment, lost in the sea of fear. Slap. A sharp sting to your already sensitive cunt makes you still, forces your attention back to the blond man in front of you.

“No can do”, he says, light tone barely hiding the malice behind his words. He's enjoying this, you can tell.

You watch in desperation as he reaches for the little bottle of lube on the nightstand, as he generously spreads it all over his cock. Shouta is twitching inside of you, clearly enjoying the way you tighten with every breath of fear, with every sob that manages to slip out. Your eyes are wide as you track Hizashi’s every motion above you, not relaxing like you should but clinging onto Shouta’s arm as though your life depends on it. Your nails are digging into his skin but he lets you, probably too eager for what’s to come to care. One more breath, then he prods at your stinging cunt, your eyes roll back and- He’s splitting you open. It’s worse than him forcing himself into your ass without much preparation, worse than that time Shouta had developed a habit of choking you until you passed out- it burns and burns and burns, pain so hot you can’t help but pull a grimace - anything to distract yourself from the feeling. It’s like an almost dry stab into you, even with him using lube beforehand. You can’t help but clench around them both in sheer distress, making the sensation even worse. Hizashi above you looks positively stupefied with every single inch he’s slipping into you. His eyes are looking at the ceiling, unfocused and nearly closed, his jaw is slack with the sensation of fucking both you and Shouta. He looks almost like he’s drooling while you twitch and cry under him, the polar opposite to his blissed out state. “Oh- fuck-”, he grunts as he bottoms out, his mean charade melting away with one single thrust, reduced to nothing but whines and the hard grip of his hands on your shoulders now. You’re only given a few, precious seconds to get used to both of them so deep within you, then he already starts to fuck you.

You’re so full. Only Hizashi is moving and god, you’re almost grateful for it. His pace is still slow but the burn is so dull that every in- and outward motion makes you gawk with discomfort. “It hurts, please, please-”, you writhe against the solid muscle of Shouta’s abdomen, even though it’s hopeless. Even if you were able to get free, they’d simply hold you down in a different position, they’re too worked up to stop now..

“Fuck, baby-”, Hizashi almost stutters, brows furrowed in concentration. “You feel amazing.”

There is a breathless moan from beneath you, something so soft and stunned it feels garish. It does very little to take your mind off the intense burning pain, no matter how uncharacteristic it is for Shouta. You can’t see his face, but he groans and grunts into your ear, clearly enjoying this just as much as his husband. The arm around your neck goes a little slack but you’re already too impaled by them to be able to scramble away, to even try to fight them off. You feel like a stuck pig, doomed to this torture. “Good girl”, he grits out, rough and right against your ear. You can tell how close he is by his tone alone, his restraint getting thinner by the second. “So good for us-” He gets cut off as Hizashi quickens his pace, properly fucking the two of you now. Your cunt only gradually adjusts to him, but it’s all more tolerable than before. You’re still not comfortable, but you can tell that you’re getting looser. Another thrust and you can feel something warm blossoming within you, your body giving in to the sensation. You’re basically dripping with sweat, lube and your own fluids, and the noises are so obscene you’ll never forget them. Hizashi is the first to cum, his hands tight on your shoulders as he tries to fuck you even harder - it’s not easy with him and Shouta sharing one hole but he doesn’t give up until he finds an angle where it works just so. It catches something deep inside you and you can only grunt in protest at the weird, sweetly stinging sensation, a pull that’s almost too much for you. In a second, his lips are on your neck, sucking and kissing as he whines and bucks into you, the pain of his sharp teeth almost covering up the strain on your cunt. He empties himself into you a few, sharp thrusts later, with a high-pitched moan and enough force behind it that it leaves you breathless. His cum is hot and wet deep within you, the unusual sensation making Shouta audibly moan beneath you - and as Hizashi slows, the other starts to rut up into you again, still so high-strung it doesn’t take him long to make a complete mess of you now; shooting his load just as deep. Your vision blurs with the sensation. The world around you grows just a little more quiet as Hizashi rests his full weight on you, slowly getting soft. You feel absolutely defiled - you can barely clench from how numb your cunt has gotten and from how much you’ve been stretched, their mixed seed dripping out of you. There is a hum just beneath your jaw as Hizashi lifts his hips just enough to slip out of you, dragging an obscene amount of cum with him that splatters onto the bed beneath, a thoroughly satisfied sound. His voice is dripping with sweetness as he kisses your sweat-soaked skin, right on top of the bites he left. “There you go, good girl.”

#erasermic x reader #eraserhead x reader #present mic x reader #yandere erasermic #yandere bnha #yandere eraserhead #aizawa x reader #yandere present mic #tw.noncon #tw.yandere #/present mic #/eraserhead

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scarletcitrus · 1 year

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here’s mohan as a dragon to go with my pagan (expect more far cry 4 dragons, they are immensely fun to design) (immediate contradiction: i am working on ishwari and Struggling with her design though send help)

further explanation on his design below! :)

unfortunately, no other drawings, sorry :( however, i did fuck around and find out with some color filters, so those will be attached at the end if you’re interested

my main idea with mohan was to go for something that looked regal, like it belonged in a palace, but also something that looked like it belonged in the middle of a battlefield brutalizing its enemies. being the leader of the golden path as well as an absolute Machine for violence and aggression, i figured that suited him well, and i personally feel like i accomplished my goal . yay for me!

this part feels way too cheesy but i’m going to include it anyway because it involved the design, so. i wanted him to also kind of feel like a myth or a legend or something in the sense that kyrati told stories of him when he was still alive (maybe even after he died, who knows) about a dragon perched on the mountains that reflected the golden light of the very sun, shining a path for everyone to follow, etc. etc. you get the point right LOL

^ he’s very special, very large, very strong. also, the leader, so everyone respects him anyway and telling stories of his power as tactics to either inspire the golden path or scare the royal army would probably start happening somewhere after the time of pagan’s betrayal

about him being perched on the mountaintops, i had an idea. and i followed through with it, because i liked it; it’s that he could climb extraordinarily well and much preferred to be high up rather than down low to gain better vantage points and to feel like he was properly overseeing his people. or, his dragons? not his people.

^ anyway, i made his upper body massive to allow for some extra climbing muscle there, four front legs for even more stability if he were to slip and lose a foothold, retractable claws like a cat to hook onto things, generally huge paws. he also has paw pads, which are the same color as the beads/spots (that are attached to his body, they aren’t for decoration) that help for climbing, because they are rough like the pads of a dog or a cat or something lol

he has very strong bones (my boy drinking a lot of milk) (nah just kidding. it’s because he’s like any of the many animals that butt heads to establish dominance he has to slam his face into other people’s faces as an intimidation tactic; the amount of horns and spines he has serves well for this purpose, especially if smashing his face into another dragon’s escalates into a full-blown fight) and thick skin, as well as a double-layered coat for insulation in the colder places of kyrat... and whatever else a double coat does. OKAY I know that double coated dogs stay warm in winter and cool in summer i just don’t know how LMAO

it’s probably obvious to tell (or god at least i hope it is) that i really based his design off the golden path’s flag, with the duller darker blue and the bright golden yellows. his horns and spines i also based off the design but ESPECIALLY the sun-like thingies on the base of his tail, and on his stomach/chest. when he climbs up cliffs or scales mountains to look down on kyrat, it’s not just for that reason; the golden glittery parts of him absorb heat that he can store for when he’s needed up in the more freezing areas, and when they’re storing heat, are incredibly hot to the touch. not enough to burn on immediate contact, but if you rest your hand there, you’re getting some scars

mmmm i also tried to take at least a little inspiration from the way banashur looks in statues all over kyrat and stuff (i.e. the golden speckles, the beads, the way the patterns on his legs look; those were all things i managed to stem from banashur) because mohan is incredibly religious and whatnot, so. can’t leave that part of him out! the reason i took elements of banashur though was because... um. okay stick with me here i’ve been correlating (in the goat’s notes near the masks of yalung) pagan with yalung and mohan with banashur, but SOLELY in the sense that the way the goat describes banashur being jealous of yalung and creeping in the dark as a cheap way to break him is very Them. lmk if you agree because it’s all i’ve been able to think about since i beat far cry 4 and got all the masks it’s so in my brain

umm let’s see what else. right i tried to manage with mohan’s hair/facial hair as best as i could and i think i did a pretty good job :) gave him a bit of a mane down his back and a bushy tail just so the fluffy hair and dragon beard didn’t look out of place or anything

anddd i did forget to include this on pagan’s-dragon-design-post-explanation-whatever but also it was partially because i legit couldn’t think of anything. The breath conundrum. does he breathe fire

mohan? kind of. his breath is relative to where he stores his heat and when he uses it it’s like opening an oxygen tank in the sense that, well, he’s releasing a LOT of it and will have to go back for more. but it’s not like it doesn’t hurt; it’s a very glittery golden like his patterns and looks almost like a concentrated beam of gas, and it burns like hell. also tingles like it’s acid or something after it settles on your skin, but it doesn’t actually eat through you, it just really hurts

okay uhh i think that’s it if i add anything i? might reblog? we’ll find out it’ll be a little surprise

last thing, here are the other color versions ! i like them both a lot but his original colors suit him infinitely better i think. also tumblr is being difficult and won’t let me put them side by side so we’re all gonna hold hands again and pretend it’s fine and that the quality isn’t total shit in the preview

but thank you for reading!!!! or even just looking honestly. i appreciate it lol

#mohan ghale #far cry 4 #fanart #my art #dragon #fc4 dragons

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sammydem0n64 · 7 months

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YEA MAN, tell me uhhhhhh, feel free to ramble about any pokemon things you got going on in your au that you don't mind spoiling/talking about!! very interested to hear about some of the other charas!! :]c

OK WE WILL B DISCUSSING THE LOYAL THREE FROM THE DLC Ik you already know abt them bc you keep reblogging posts abt them + Ogerpon + DLC in general but I also know you havent played the game and won't for a hot minute so . This is spoilers for you bc it may be incomprehsible AND lore filled!

But I have some thinkies about the Loyal Three (mainly Munkidori)

Ok so basic run down of their canon lore since im adding it to the au: They're outsiders of Kitakami who came from another land, they're a gang of thieves who wind up killing a man (Ogerpon's trainer, though in the AU he's her father!) because they try to steal Ogerpon's masks from him and wind up going too far, and likewise they get killed as revenge by Ogerpon and are regarded as heroes by Kitakami. But they come back lol

There's also the fact that the toxic chains they have gave them their abilities (Munkidori's psychic abilities + intelligence, Fezandipiti's looks, Okidogi's strength and muscles), they were just Some Guys before gaining these chains

AU Has some stuff going on there too! Mainly for Munkidori bc I'm still working out background kinks for the other two given that. I gave this man some #lore and it'd b sad to give him all the cool backstory and the other two are just there, and there's also stuff abt them that will come out in the part 2 of the dlc sooo I gotta wait, but anyways

Munkidori is Zarude's adoptive son. Yknow, Zarude, the mythical SWSH shit out! I am completely neutral on Zarude but in the AU they're primary the God of Family! But since 1) a few other gods relate to that like Xerneas being the god of fertility and whatnot and 2) these family units fucking suck, they live away from the Gods and enjoy a life of solitude.

Munkidori was a mere mortal child when Zarude found him and decided to raise him, and his childhood was good for the most part! However, he was never the brightest child, so he was bullied in school by both teachers and students for his low grades/low intelligence. He always wanted to be something greater, but he couldnt do anything substancial without an education. Zarude tried being there for him, but ultimately it was never enough. He started to resent the people around him and yearned to become smarter, stronger even

This resentment soon was applied to Zarude. He began to believe he lived in his parent's shadow, since they were a deity and he wasn't. Sure, Zarude is hardly respected amongst the gods and is a very minor deity in the grand scheme of things, but they were still powerful. They were still an ultimate lifeform. And he was given none of that. Zarude didn't give him immortality, Zarude didn't give him cool God powers, he was just a simple mortal who couldn't do anything right. He wanted to be powerful, but he was denied it.

So when he hit adulthood he ran away from home, soon meeting Okidogi and Fezandipiti (fellow troubled young adults like him who wanted to be something more) and they formed a gang. Thieves who claimed their power back by harming the innocent. Munkidori was their defacto leader, which satified his need for power.

Along the way they were found by [ ] who granted their wishes through the toxic chains (this is. DLC part 2 thing. I know bc of leaks!) so Munkidori actually GOT intelligence (and psychic powers), seemingly without price (there IS a price. The Loyal Three's worst tendancies are now heightened due to the toxins in their body but dont worry abt it)! This only aided in the trio's crimes until they had to flee to Kitakami to escape the ramifications of their actions

Where the canon differs is that I imagine the Loyal Three actually did serve as proctors of Kitakami for a bit, though of course it was for selfish reasons. Free room, food and board for helping protect the innocent and all! But ultimately they all still committed murder against an innocent man and died as a result.

I don't know how they came back to life as of now (Tho I probably will when the rest of the DLC drops), but they all come back the exact same but everyone (... Zarude. Just Zarude) thinks they came back wrong. And they want to whoop Ogerpon's ass for killing them (its been 200 years. She was cursed with immortality FEEL FREE TO ASK ABT IT TOO)

And yeah! Thats the backstory lore I got, so I'll just list some other minor stuff I have cooked for the loyal three! Lil headcanons if you will

-They're all trans men, Fezandipiti is just extremely GNC

-...I think Okidogi has a little crush on Wo-Chien, which is sillay and not gonna work out bc Wo-Chien is one of Ogerpon's found family members and they are NOT gonna give the guy who killed their new baby's dad A KISS!

-They were all in their mid 30s when they died and are still like that now that they've come back, lol. They might have immortality now after being revived but we'll see

-Zarude constantly lives with guilt that they weren't a better parent to Munkidori, though they have no clue that he. Like. straight up became a criminal and died. They just know he's dead bc they raised him 200 years ago and he was a mortal sooooo yeah. Haunted by the horrors ESPECIALLY when he comes back and he's unrecognizable to them !

-I might make it so Fezandipiti and Okidogi also had a connection to some gods, just not on the level Munkidori has lol

-Their relationship with one another is. [Shrugs]. Like yeah they're a team but they constantly argue. but also stare at each other's tits (dw about it.). and they're kinda like a found family I guess? But also not really bc a lot of this was out of convience? they don't know what they are but they sure did die together!

-They technically have "a master" (aka the one who gave them the chains) and they might have been the force who revived them... and thats p funny bc imagine being Munkidori and you're entire thing is that you want power SOOO bad and youre finally the leader of a group so BOOM dreams achieved, and then you turn around and remember that 10 year old god (you also fucking hate the gods (take a guess why) so this is extra salt in the wound) who did weird shit to your brain is actually running the place. But forgot about you for 2 centuries. until now. Bro I'd die again.

#asks #human pokemon au #WOOOOOOOOOO these men.

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mystrixstory · 1 year

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Part 1: Alright here goes nothing, this will be my first ever real fic I’ve written so I apologize if there’s too much or too little detail, also trying to make it in character as possible. May need parts

Kat’s p.o.v:

It was early January up in the land of the living, three months have passed since Kat arrived back in Rust Bank and gained new friends, including some that are more trickish than others. The days were ever so slowly getting warmer bit by bit but the snow and ice still held nonetheless what with Rust Bank being located in a more northern part of America. Kat and Raúl hung out pretty much everyday and a few times every now and again with Siobhan, Sweetie, and Sloane, going out to the rebuilding town and seeing movies, getting food from Fawzi’s and whatnot. But this time Siobhan had another idea of what to do for some weekend fun, ice skating! When she mentioned it to the friend group of four during lunch on Thursday, Sloane and Sweetie were instantly excited as they haven’t been in quite some time. Kat however was not fully up to the plan, at least not at first, the last time she went ice skating was when Wilma and Delroy took her to do it when she was 5. It took quite a bit of convincing from Raúl and pushing from Siobhan but she eventually gave in. I guess it couldn’t hurt to try, maybe it will be a little fun, the worst that can happen is a few scrapes and bumps. Kat thought to herself, unknowing of what will happen. Finally Saturday came around and it was time for the group to go out and hit the ice, all of the S’s were buzzing with excitement while Raúl and Kat trailed along behind them in small conversation. It took a bit of time but they finally found the perfect pond, a tad on the smaller side it was half surrounded by leafless trees and had a small stone bridge running with its legs running though it, all the arches just the perfect heigh to skate under. It was perfect! They all thought. But Kat, after all that had happened two months ago, was more careful than the others and had a better eye for seeing potentially dangerous stuff. The ice looked a little thin in most parts, but after seeing the excitement in everyone’s faces she decided to maybe just keep that thought to herself this time, she didn’t want to take a chance at ruining their skating fun. So they all laced up and gently made their way into the ice, and just as expected Kat nearly fell right on her back and almost brought Raúl down with her, the only thing stopping them was him grabbing onto a nearby tree branch, the S’s meanwhile glided with almost swanlike grace having lived in Rust Bank and it’s long winters their whole lives. But after the calamity calmed down and everyone was able to stop laughing they set off, Kat slowly but surely learning how to skate on ice. But it wasn’t long before tragedy struck. As the group worked their way from the edge of the pond into the middle towards the more thinner ice, Kat started getting an uneasy feeling, a feeling she knew would become a reality soon enough. And just as she predicted, she had a vision. It was a vision of Raúl getting stuck in an uncertain spot where the ice began to crack, he was frozen in spot and before she knew it he was falling in, sinking to the bottom. NO! Kat thought with panic flooding her senses, she looked over to Raúl, seeing him in real time now about to go over that exact spot. “Whoah Kat, what are you doi-“ the rest of his sentence cut off by Kat rushing to him and pushing him far away, just as the ice he was over began to crack, and the beast thing she knew, she was falling into water that was cold, colder than ice, cold as a sharp memory. The water slapped the air from her lungs, pinning her muscles in place and freezing her all over. And just as her body went still her mind went into a flurry of panicked thoughts. Oh god oh god oh god why can’t I move?! She though trying and failing to get her muscles to respond, to swim up and get air, to do anything! But they just wouldn’t respond. Strong and terrible memories and thoughts began flooding her mind. The feeling of the car falling, the shockwave she felt when it hit the water, the way her pop’s head hit the steering wheel. Then more chilling thoughts hit her mind.

#Wendell and wild fanfic part 1 #wendell and wild #kat wendell and wild #kat elliot #wendell and wild spoilers

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edzasks · 2 years

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Hi. This might be come across as very personal you dont have to answer cuz its personal. i rememeber you once mentioning on this blog about weight loss i want to lose >:L idk how i can how do you deal with sugar cravings ???! when i try to diet i tried soup smoothies it doesnt work :/

I think I’m the worst person for advice cause I suck at giving advice, but I just want to say, whenever you want to lose weight, make sure you’re doing it in the mindset of slow, steady, simple and for your overall health. Not looks, or whatnot (that was one of my mistakes) I bet you look amazing anon, so don’t be hard on yourself.

Second important thing. Stop ✋ … Soup diets, smoothies. It’s all crap. Dump any books, or celeb advice, “influencers”, “fitness gurus” telling you to try and rave about fad diets. Those do incredible harm to you and are the reason for binging because you’re suppressing yourself from nutrients. Our bodies can take a short toll, but overtime fads aren’t realistic and you can’t anymore without damage.

As for how I lost. I kept it relatively simple. At the time I was in a bad mindset, I think I was 19? High School in the past put me in a bad unhealthy mindset, so I was gaining back then when normally I was very participating in anything sporty but what really made me not recognize myself was after the breakup of my friend group. I like to bottle my feelings to be honest, so I was in denial, suffering silently and that was eating me, being thrown under the bus by a not-so-nice person is pretty traumatic than I’d like to admit. After that my weight number just was creeping up, I wasn’t leaving my house, nobody heard from me for months. I was a hermit. It was bad. I was eating away my feelings.

I then winded up with some light bulb moment, and decided I want to change. Part of it was looking good, and “unbothered”, and second was because I did want to be healthy but the first part occupied my brain. Which isn’t a healthy way of thinking.

Now as for specific “how” I lost it. Simple. Walking. You really don’t need to go ham at the gym, or anything like that. Gym is no doubt great though, because it’s toning, and still aids in weight loss, (I loss too much muscle at one point lol) y’know. But I didn’t feel like going. Every day I just leashed up my dog, and went out in nature, and went walking. Consistent 20 minutes a day, to 1 hour, sometimes 2-3 hours, but for the most part it was ~1 hour+ walking a day and hitting x amount of steps. I loved it. Best way to clear your head.

Then I cut out carbs, I wasn’t touching desserts. I avoided rice, pastas, etc. (I don’t recommend this either cause you’ll go insane, it’s good to have a small amount and not deprive yourself and or punish yourself.) I only ate chicken, I stopped touching red meats (also don’t recommend, lol.) Since I was still in the heartbreak mindset too, there were days where I barely ate anything at all or just didn’t - which is also very unhealthy.

Now I’m more healthy about it now, so it’s walking > CICO / IF. Do all 3 (set macros, and hit right protein % and what your body needs) and you will lose.

As for how I got rid of sugar cravings. It naturally goes away when you eat healthier. When I really did “need” something sweet Diet Coke was my choice of “dessert” — THOUGH stay the fuck away from it cause it fucks your kidneys, and behold I have unresolved kidney issues, which set me back a lot. Now I just eat pudding with a healthy milk option. Lol.

If this is to long to read (to summarize):

* Love yourself. Do it for you, and overall health. Not superficial reasons or you’ll fall.

* Take your time, the turtle wins the race for a reason. Weight loss should not be rapid.

* Connect with nature … Which means go outside! Go walking! You don’t have to do complex cardio or overwhelm yourself with the gym… Until you ready.

* Don’t do fad diets (teas, smoothies, soups - it’s BS and toxic.) The only ones I standby is CICO and IF whatever works better for you. Set macros.

* Don’t lock yourself away from stuff you like. Moderation is key, if you want a goddamn chocolate cake, then eat that chocolate cake. Just a small portion.

Hope that helps … 🫵 You got this.

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pocoyo-yo · 2 years

Text

[Urges- Shinichiro x F!Reader]

Summary: Y/N is doing a carwash as a way to make some extra cash during the summer and a very attractive man let's her wash his motorcycle. The situation quickly escalates from washing this mystery man's motorcycle to so much more.

Warnings: smut, F/M, oral sex, vaginal intercourse, rude language, smoking, slight degradation, praise, car sex, public sex, doggy style, missionary, squirting

Fandom: Tokyo Revengers

You sat down on the curb and waved the last car goodbye while counting the money you had earned so far.

It was summer, the time where little kids ran lemonade stands and teenagers got their first 9/5 or started babysitting. But what do the adults do? Either keep watch of their kids, go out, or work because they don't have a summer break. Now what do the young adults do? Party. Especially if they're in college, it was the perfect time to party since they had a summer break...or they got a job. The later was you, you are now in your junior going on senior year of college and need a job to save up money. You had an internship for bit that played for the first semester but you weren't making nearly enough to pay for the rest.

You were wallowing in student debt and your bestfriend suggested that you join her carwash. Now everybody knows what homemade carwashes do and how they really get customers. They look hot. Guys would be shirtless and let the sweat define their muscles to gain traction and women would do it bikinis, two pieces, short shorts, and tank tops that will definitely show some things if they get wet.

Your bestfriend had no shame and she was the real reason you got customers at first. Then after like a week she said she was 'retiring' because she started seeing some guy that she washed a car for, said he had a good dick, was hot, had a funny personality and whatnot. She was thinking about ending the whole carwash thing but you were so desperate for cash that you told her that you'd gladly take over.

Honestly you wish you hadn't.

The amount you made depended on the size of the car, you already didn't do trucks and made some exceptions with jeeps since it was just you.

[Small car wash = 5 dollars

Small car dry = 3 dollars

Medium car wash= 7 dollars

Medium car dry = 5 dollars

Large car wash= 10 dollars

Large car dry= 8 dollars

Trucks = x

Most Jeeps = x ]

[ !!!NO REFUNDS!!! ]

"Alright so I made 24 dollars and I've been doing this for four hours...fuck my life," You folded up the money and shoved it in your pocket. "Since it's just me I had to raise the prices on the bigger cars now nobody's comin'." You went back under your tent that you and your bestfriend had set up and popped open the cooler. You grabbed a soda and chugged that like you hadn't had a drink in ages. A loud horn filled your ears and you jumped a bit causing you to spill your soda on your t-shirt. You groaned and looked over at the traffic begin to pile up before thinking actually about what this could bring. "Yes...traffic!" You set your soda down on the cooler and threw off your t-shirt, leaving you in just a tank top and shorts.

Traffic meant people might actually pay attention to your carwash and go there to pass some time. It was a 50/50 chance but still worth a shot.

You left the tent and heard a loud roar from a vehicle. You couldn't tell what and that's when you saw a motorcycle pull out of the traffic and into the parking lot that led to your carwash. You had seen that motorcycle before, it circled around this area lot. They used the parking lot to just drive around in and do tricks. You watched as they turned the corner and slowed down as they approached you before completely coming to a stop.

The person riding the motorcycle looked at your sign for second then at you. They said something that you couldn't make out and I guess your face told them that, seeing that they chuckled and took of their helmet.

It was a man. Not just any man, a pretty man. You had met your fair share of attractive men during this job but with just one look at his face you almost dropped the bucket in your hand.

"Heh...I said do you do motorcycles?" He repeated and you examined it. "Well I mean...yeah. I've never done one before but I could try," You looked up at him and he smiled softly as a response which caused you to quickly advert your eyes. "Shit...um alright I'll make an exception just for you, I fuck something up you can get your money back." You said and the man laughed again, "Sounds like a good deal...am I special?" You stood back up straight and looked him up and down. He had messy black hair, black eyes, and pale skin. He wore a plain white t-shirt and baggy pants- unexpected for the summer time. "Maybe." You hummed and noticed his lips form a grin.

He didn't say anything and just got off of the motorcycle, helmet in hand. The man turned it off and pulled out the key, placing it in his pocket.

"Let's see...I'll agree to $8 for the wash?" You offered and he swiftly pulled out his wallet. He took out a couple dollar bills and flipped through them before handing them to you. You took the money and counted it, counted it again, and counted it again. "Sweetheart, this is $12?" You pointed out and his cheeks were now tinted pink.

"Call it a tip, miss..."

"L/N Y/N, mister..."

"Sano Shinichiro, call me Shinichiro."

"Alright then call me Y/N."

"'Kay." He watched you set down the bucket and hurry into the tent, placing the money along with the rest into your jar and shutting it tightly. "Hey Shinichrio! You can stay in here since it's not like cars where you can just sit inside and not get wet!" You shouted and he nodded, sliding his wallet back in his pocket. He gave his motorcycle a good smack and then pulled out a a pack of cigarettes. "Do you allow smoking?" He asked as he approached the tent and you nodded towards the wall of the tent. "Do it outside of the tent." You told him and Shinichiro left the tent with a wave like he wasn't going to see you again even though you'd be right outside.

You sighed and puffed out your cheeks. "This is bull..." You walked out of the tent and was met with the scorching sun once again. You made your way towards his motorcycle and then stood in front of it. "What kind is it?" You questioned while lathering the sponge in the soapy water. "Ah," He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and blew out smoke into the air. "It's a CB250T," You stared at the bike avd saw the small hand prints on it. "Y'know I actually own a bike shop, it's like five minutes away." He murmured and you giggled as you carefully began washing the front.

"It's a pretty bike but honestly how'd you dirty this thing up so bad?" You asked and Shinichiro smiled, "My little brother loves the thing, he's eleven." You smiled back, "That's cute...Shinichiro how old are you?"

"21, you?"

"I'm older than you...that's hilarious! I'm 22!"

Shinichiro burnt out the cigarette and tossed it in the trash, "Honestly I expected it, calling a random man, sweetheart, sounds like something someone more mature would say." You noticed he was now on the right side of the motorcycle while you washed the left. "Sweetheart, I'm far from mature. You're doing better than me. Maybe I should've opened a bike shop instead going to college." You joked and Shinichiro shook his head, "No no be grateful, sometimes I wish I went to college, love the bike shop, I make good money, but getting drunk around a buncha people legally seems fun."

"So you were getting drunk around a bunch of people illegally?"

"I had my first sip of alcohol at 14...was wasted all night. Never touched it again until I was twenty. I did start the cigarette shit when I was 14 and haven't been able to put them down since. I'm trying the lollipop method because I run through too many packs a day and the kind I like are expensive but it's not the same."

You stood up and grabbed another bucket of water. "So you must've been a handful." You teased and Shinichiro stepped back as you poured water over the part you washed. "Shit you could say that, you should see my brother Mikey and his friends. The kid really looks up to me- gladly he's a bit more responsible and stronger but he still ended up just like me," You made your way with the buckets towards the right side and set the down. You looked at Shinichiro and licked your lips. "I bet he's a sweet kid," You grabbed the sponge and Shinichiro sat down on the curb. "About your bike shop...are you hiring?" You asked and he thought it over with a smile. "Now I am...alright Y/N think of this as your interview. What do you know about bikes?" He asked and you frowned, "Uhm...how to wash them?" You answered while Shinichiro watched you scrub the motorcycle.

"Another question, why are you doing this carwash job alone?"

"This was actually my bestfriends thing and then she let me join in. She was the hot girl that got the customer's and we both split the work and the money. But she got a boyfriend and said she was done then I said I'll just take over because I needed the cash."

Shinichiro blew his bangs out of his face and smirked, "I doubt they came there for her."

You felt your face grow hot. Maybe it was the sun...yeah that summer heat!

"You're ridiculous..."

No it was definitely him.

"Am I? That's no way to talk to your potential boss," You glanced back and him only to see Shinichiro staring right at you with a smug face. "Last question-" "-How much do you pay and what are your hours?" You interjected, you could tell your movements were growing slower while washing. You were trying to drag out this conversation with him. "We open at 6AM and close at 8PM. You'd actually be my first employee so if you work a 9/5, cleaning the windows, floors, bikes, and all that- also based off what I make I would say $7 an hour." Shinichiro explained and you nodded, "I'd be able to do 11 to 7 on Tuesday's, Thursday's, and Saturday's since those are the days I have morning classes and they're over by 10- 10:15 the latest."

"I'd be fine with that, so one more question to determine if your hired...do you have any suggestions on what to use to replace cigarettes?" He questioned and you scoffed.

"I heard sex was good." You said sarcastically as you stood up.

"Damn," You could feel Shinichiro staring right at your ass, it was in perfect view for him to see. That definitely wasn't your intention but you couldn't say you were mad that he got a good look at it. You were also wearing those shorts that showed a bit of your ass cheeks which was just icing on the cake.

"...It's crazy how I just got the urge to smoke a cigarette right now."

You looked back at him and your lips parted slightly as his eyes met yours. "Shit...um I have my car parked in the parking lot." You mumbled and Shinichiro stood up with a grunt. "What're you implyin' babe?" He asked and you turned to face him, dropping the sponge in the bucket. He raised a brow and you knew he was just playing with you. "I," You searched for the right words. "I want to calm your urges...Shinichiro." You muttered under your breath and he placed a hand on your cheek.

"Yeah."

You placed your hand on top of his and glanced at the motorcycle. "You just want to leave it here...?" You asked and Shinichiro dug around in his pocket before swinging pair of keys around in front of you. "I have the keys, it's not going anywhere." You brought the hand on your cheek and and held it tightly while he placed the keys back in his pocket. "I know I just don't want it to get stolen-" "-Are you trying to fuck the motorcycle or me?" Shinichiro questioned and you punched his shoulder playfully.

"Alright Y/N, lead the way."

You ran with him through the parking lot, you almost tripped causing you both to laugh. You two were like teenagers, running around and trying to act sneaky. I had been a while since you felt this excited and giddy inside. You grabbed your keys from out of your pocket as you both approached your car and unlocked it. It beeped and you stood infront of the backdoor. "You're paying the ticket for public indecency if we get caught." You grumbled while you tugged on the door handle. "Come on-" The door swung open and you bumped into Shinichiro. "Are you that into me?" He chuckled and you nodded eagerly, "Don't judge me, you instigated this."

You crawled into the backseat backwards and you spread your legs. You were still clothed but they were spread and you patted the piece of the seat in between them. Shinichiro grinned and made his way into the car and in between your legs. He shut the door behind him while you unbuttoned your shorts and kicked off your flip flops.

"Do you have condoms?" You asked and he pulled put his wallet. "Always carry them." You wrapped your arms his neck and pulled him close. "So does that mean get a lot of girls?" You whispered against his lips and he stared down at you through his black lashes. "No...I'm by no means a virgin though. I just carry them around just in case I get lucky...like this." He smiled and you sighed, "I find that hard to believe...with a face like that," You kissed his nose and focused your attention on his lips. "I'd assume everyone would be all over you." You pressed your lips against his- they were surprisingly soft. He tasted like cigarettes- grape flavor? Shinichiro kissed you back and you ran your fingers through his silky hair. He traced his tongue over your lips and you immediately opened your mouth. You whimpered as he slid his tongue inside and tasted every inch of your mouth. You didn't bother playing with him- you hadn't felt this good because of a man in years.

"Fuck," He pulled away and licked his lips, you whined in response. "Can I take this off?" He asked, his finger under the shoulder strap of your tank top. "Do whatever you want." You huffed and he quickly slid off your tank top. Shinichiro stared at your bare breasts and cupped them before looking you in the eye, "I knew you didn't have one on." He left butterfly kisses down your neck, sucking and nibbling on it here and there while massaging your breasts. You squirmed and let out soft whimpers at the feeling. "W-Wha-" You bit down on your bottom lip as he made his way down to your collar bone. He licked it softly and traveled down valley in between your breasts. "A-Ah," You tugged on Shinichiro's hair as he took your left nipple in his mouth. You could feel his tongue swirl around the bud and you let out a gasp. You hit the top of his head while he pinched your other nipple. "That hurts!" Shinichiro's lips left your breast and your nipple already looked swollen. "Shit you have a strong punch. Alright I get it, no pinching." He said and you pouted.

"You're making me feel bad."

"No it's fine," He caressed your waist. "I'm supposed to make you feel good, if you don't like it I won't do it. But forget about what you don't like, what do you like?" He questioned and you nervously pointed towards your clothed pussy. "I um..." You placed your arm over your eyes and avoided eye contact. "No," Shinichiro gently pulled your arm off of your face and grabbed your chin- forcing you to make eye contact. "I want you to look at me when I ask you something."

Your breath hitched and you could feel your wetness soak your panties. "I like...degradation-" "-So you like being called a whore?" Your face grew warm. "I'm not an idiot I know you're changing the subject," You felt Shinichiro rub his fingers against your clothed slit and you moaned softly. "You wanted to say something about this little cunt of yours. Come on, is it something dirty? I wouldn't expect any less since you're a little cockslut huh." You shook your head and sighed, "No no it's nothing crazy I just prefer when people touch down there...instead of other places."

"So your pussy's your 'sweet spot'? Cute." He wrapped his fingers around the hem of your shorts and slid them down slowly. You whimpered at the feeling of his fingers touching your thighs.

Shinichiro tossed your shorts in the front seat and buried his face in your thighs. You could feel his lips brushed softly against your skin and you tried your best to stay still. "Shini- oh god!" You covered your mouth as he licked around your soaked panties. Purposely avoiding your cunt. "Y-You son of a bitc- mmgh..." You moaned and Shinichiro looked up at you with a chuckle. "Aw come babe, I think you can handle a little teasing. Actually of course you can," He patted the top of your leg.

"You're my tough girl after all."

You felt your pussy throb at his words. "Shinichiro...Shinichiro can you just take my panties off," You used your elbows to sit up a bit and he glanced up at you while leaving dark hickey's in between your thighs. "Please Shinichiro..." You begged and he couldn't help but sigh. "Alright, lay back down." He hummed and he gave your clothed slit a long lick. "Shinichiro!" You whined and he stared up you. "You're such a brat, I was going to take 'em off." He murmured against your cunt and a soft moan left your lips due to the vibrations of his voice.

He grabbed the hem of your panties in between his teeth and slowly dragged them down your thighs. He stopped at your knees and groaned at the slight of your glistening cunt. He yanked your panties off of your legs, ripping them in the process and tossing them to the front seat of your car.

He licked his lips and stared down at your slit with the most hungry eyes you've ever seen. "Shinichiro-" You got cut off by the feeling of Shinichiro's tounge lathering over your pussy. You ran your fingers through his thick, black hair and tugged on it lightly. "Oh fuck! 'Chiro please!" You cried as your nails dug deep into his scalp. You could feel his nose rub against your clit while he moved his mouth around to find better angles to eat you out in. "Y-Yes," You could hear the lewd noises leaving your pussy as Shinichiro slurped, kissed, and groaned against you. Every little flick of his tongue and nibble of his teeth made your eyes roll back in your head.

"Yes! Y-Yes! P-Please 'Chiro," You moved your hand down to your clit and rubbed it quickly. Your toes curled at the feeling before you noticed that Shinichiro wasn't touching you anymore. "W-What..." You pulled your hand away while panting but Shinichiro grabbed it, and brought your slick covered fingers close to his slick covered mouth.

"Did I tell you you could touch yourself?"

You gulped as he licked your fingers clean. "N-No..." He smiled innocently. "Well then, if I didn't say you could then don't do it babe."

No words left your lips as you nodded sheepishly. You didn't understand what spell this man had over but you definitely had a love-hate relationship with it. "Words babe." Shinichiro hummed as he focused on your dripping cunt once again. "I-I understand..." You covered your mouth as you felt Shinichiro spread your pussy open and thrust his tongue in between your folds. Your toes curled and your hands quickly left your mouth and gripped Shinichiro's hair once again, pushing his face further into your cunt.

"H-Holy fuck-" You bit down on your bottom lip and tilted your head back, bucking your hips against Shinichiro's face to create more friction. His nails dug deep into your thighs as he spread your legs further apart. He gave your pussy sloppy kisses that echoed throughout the back seat. "S'good! S-So good!" You cried out and the tip of Shinichiro's tongue brushed against your clit. Your stomach knotted as he flicked it and barraded the bud with butterfly kisses. You're legs trembled in his grasp and you couldn't speak. Only moans and whimpers left your lips as tears clung on to your hooded eyes.

You could feel your release begin to build up but you couldn't warn Shinichiro verbally. All you could do was tug on his hair, and in response he pushed his tongue deeper into your pussy.

You whimpered and squirmed around, Shinichiro's strong grip keeping you in place. "O-Oh my God! Fuuuuck! Shinichiro- I-I'm-" You cried out before your eyes shot wide open and Shinichiro's tongue continuously flicked your clit. The knot in your lower abdomen was unraveling and you felt hot, like you could barely breath.

You would've never thought this where a bit of traffic would've gotten you.

You practically screamed Shinichiro's name as your grip on his hair loosened. He gave your clit a quick kiss before pulling away, still gripping onto your shaking thighs right as you squirted all over his plain white shirt. You glanced over up at him with tired eyes while catching your breath and you could say it wasn't a sight you expected to see. Shinichiro's cheeks were red with blush and he was breathy heavily with a winded and accomplished smirk on his face. His lips were swollen just a bit and your slick dripped down his chin.

"I can finally take this shit off," He let go of your legs and quickly took off his drenched shirt. You couldn't stop staring. He wasn't body builder muscular by any means but instead he was more of a slim type of muscular and it was very attractive. Shinichiro cupped your cheek softly. "You okay babe?" He asked and you nodded. "I'm fine...it was just- fuck that was the best head I've ever had..." You sighed and Shinichiro chuckled. "So how many people have given you head?" He questioned sarcastically and you stared off to side. "Enough to say you're the best." You replied and he grinned.

"God I'm so ready to fuck you, how do you want it baby?"

You sat up slightly and stared down at the prominent tent in Shinichiro's sweats.

"From behind."

He sighed and his eyes darted to every part of your naked body before pulling you over towards him by the wrist. "Your ass is only part of you I haven't fully seen," You felt Shinichiro's hand dig into your plush ass. "Promise me you'll give me a show while I taking you from behind. I want it to be the only thing I focus on...'kay beautiful?" Your breath hitched and you wanted nothing more than to please him however he wished. "Yes...whatever you want Shinichiro." You mumbled and he kissed your lips deeply. As his tongue ventured into your mouth you could taste a bit of yourself.

"...I need you to hurry up and turn around before I fuck you just like this." Shinichiro whispered as he broke the kiss.

You quickly obliged and fumbled onto your stomach. You lifted up your ass, giving Shinichiro the best view you could hope for and all you could hear was a low groan from behind you. "You're so beautiful y'know," You heard the sound of clothing shuffling and glanced behind you. The first thing you saw was Shinichiro's fully erect cock in his hand. It was pale just like the rest of him but the tip was red and practically drenched in pre-cum. "What're ya staring at babe?" He joked and you giggled as he tore open a condom and slide it over his cock slowly, his breath staggering just a bit. "Shinichiro, how long have you been hard?" You murmured and he slid his cock over your slit causing you to let out a whimper. "It's embarrassing really." He grumbled and Shinichiro slowly pushed the tip in. "J-Just say it..." You whined, rolling your hips back against his cock.

"...Ever since you called me fucking sweetheart."

Shinichiro gripped your hip with his left hand and guided his cock into you with his right. You dug your nails into the thick seat of the car as his cock nestled deep inside of you, stretching out your walls.

Tears brimmed your eyes and you moaned softly into the crease of your arm. "Holy shit," Shinichiro bit down on his bottom lip and slowly dragging his cock out of you before slamming it back in without warning. You cried out and all Shinichiro payed attention to was the way your ass jiggled as it slapped against his abdomen. "Arch your back a bit." He hummed and you did so, gaining a chuckle of approval from him.

"Shinichir- oh!" You whimpered and tears fell from your eyes as a hot sting tingled against your ass cheek. You quickly looked back at him with a pout. "Did you just spank me?!" You questioned and Shinichiro frowned playfully, "What? I was just trying something out. Did you not like it?" You didn't respond and only turned your head back forward, as Shinichiro continued to thrust into you.

"Exactly, you do know I felt the way you tightened around me just now right," He gripped the top of the seat that was closest to you with his right hand. "I can feel it all baby, from everything you hate to everything you like." He whispered as he began to find a rhythm with his movements- a very fast rhythm.

"O-Oh! 'Chiro w-wait!" You sobbed while fat tears began to roll down your cheeks and a string of soft groans began to leave Shinichiro's lips. "Do you like that?" He teased and just the entire sound of the car was erotic. Wet skin slapping skin, the sound of his dick sliding in and out of your dripping cunt, the air was thick, and smelled of sex.

Shinichiro's brows furrowed together while he changed his angle of fucking you ever so slightly. "Y-Yes! Fuck yes S-Shinichiro!" You cried as you desperately clawed at the foggy window of the car. His cock brushed against your clit with every thrust and your eyes rolled back in your head. Noises and curse words just left your swollen lips as the car slightly rocked back and forth. "Shhh beautiful, I know," Shinichiro let go of the seat and slid two fingers into your mouth. Drool ran down your chin as you sucked on his fingers like your life depended on it. "I know it's a lot. But you're my tough girl remember," He pulled his saliva covered finger out of your mouth to let you speak and you whined in response.

"Remember?"

Your entire body felt hot. The rhythm he had created was just hypnotic at this point. "Y-Yes...yes I'm," You choked on a sob and hid your face you arm. Shinichiro leaned down, his chest against your back. He was splitting you open and all you could do was cry tears of pleasure. His warm breath was ragged against your ear. As composed as he sounded talking to you, you could only assume he felt just as much pleasure as you did. "Come on...talk to me babe." He hummed while pressing soft kisses down your jawline.

"I-I'm...fuck...I'm your t-tough girl!"

You felt Shinichiro grinning against your cheek and you looked over him with teary eyes. His cheeks were deep red with blush and sweat rolled down every ridge of his face. "Hm-" You cut him off with a sloppy kiss and he moaned into your mouth, kissing you the exact same way- without a care in the world.

His body rocked against yours and you felt like you were on cloud nine. "I wanna see your pretty face starin at me," Shinichiro mumbled in between kisses and you moaned softly against his lips. "Do you wanna see me too?" He asked and you nodded eagerly. "Y-Yes I wanna- ohhhh my godddd..." You whimpered as his thrusts grew slow and exaggerated. "Mmgh- Alright beautiful, as long as you want it too."

Shinichiro thrusts stopped as he pulled out and carefully flipped you onto your back. Your slick covered your inner thighs and was rolling down your ass while he stared down at you with the dorkiest smile. Your wrapped your legs tightly around his waist and sniffled, "W-What's funny?" He shook his head and caressed your waist. "Nothing, I'm just thinking about how lucky am I right now."

Shinichiro placed his hand on your stomach as he pushed himself back in through your folds. You took him in again easily since you were already stretched enough anyway but still, it felt like he was splitting you open. Then again when you looked down you could now see a slight bulge in your stomach where Shinichiro's hand was.

A sharp breath left Shinichiro's lips before he groaned loudly. "Relax Y/N." He whispered and you wrapped your arms around his neck. "I'm sorry I just-" Shinichiro scoffed and kissed you softly. "You think too much, just let it out like before," You cheeks grew warm and he chuckled. "What? Are you nervous because I can see your face now?" You stared off to the side and Shinichiro slowly began to rut his hips against you again. You moaned loudly and you pulled him in closer with your legs, forcing him to hip deeper than before. "Ah...fuck you feel so good babe," He licked his thumb and brought his thumb down to your swollen clit, rubbing it slowly. "So perfect- your so damn perfect..." Shinichiro whispered into your ear and your were now breasts pressed firmly against his chest causing you to whimper due to how sensitive your nipples were. Sweat stuck the both of you together like glue.

"You're so big 'Chiro- so good- I'm gonna c- fuuuuck..." You hissed as the tip of his cock pressed against your g-spot. Your orgasm was right there, you could feel it, and the edging was honestly torture. "You're taking me so so good, I can feel you throbbing around me, you gonna come beautiful?" He groaned and you nodded tiredly. Shinichiro thrusted into you quicker than before and you choked on a mix of sobs and moans as you held onto him for dear life. The car rocked back in forth and it felt your entire body was just going to explode. The tightness in your abdomen was killing you, you need to come, you were so damn close.

"Oh my God! Oh God! Oh God! I'm close! Fuck I'm-"

You kissed Shinichiro roughly only for him to pull away. "I said I wanted to see you, so that means I wanna see you come." He grunted and you babbled on curse words and moans as he grabbed your chin, forcing you to stare directly at him just like before.

"Let it out babe, enjoy it."

You dragged your nails down Shinichiro's back as a scream like moan left your lips. Your legs shook uncontrollably and your back arched as your gummy walls squeezed his cock hard. Shinichiro fucked you through your high- your release coating his cock as he thrusted in and out of you. "Such a pretty face," He groaned as his cock began to swell inside of your already tight pussy. "F-Fuck I'm...I'm coming-" Shinichiro buried his face in the crook of your neck as he moaned. His release filled the condom and you two just layed there like that, catching your breath.

You could feel Shinichiro leave soft kisses on your neck as he sat up, his head touching the roof of your car and cock still inside of you. Your chest heaved up and down and he traced his fingers over your stomach. "S-Shinichiro," You stared up at him with hooded eyes. "Did I do good? Did I calm your urges?" You asked and he let out chuckle.

"Oh babe," He leaned back down and kissed you deeply. "You did amazing okay and yes you calmed them- I might go clean because of you," You let out a whine as Shinichiro slowly pulled out his cock and tied off the condom. "And that pretty little pussy of yours." He hummed and you giggled softly. Shinichiro saw a trash bag in the front seat and tossed the condom in there before lifting you up and holding you close.

"I smoke a lot in the shop..." He murmured as he layed back in the back seat and you layed on top of him, your face buried in his chest. "Do you now." You smiled as you looked up at him and he placed a kiss on your forehead. "I'm going to need to fuck you a lot if I'm going to go clean Y/N." He pointed out and you brushed his black bangs out of his face. "So what does that mean?" You asked and Shinichiro straddled your hips before giving you another loving kiss.

"It means," He grinned. "You're fucking hired babe."

#shinichiro x reader #shinichiro smut #shinichiro sano #tr smut #tokyo revengers #oneshot #anime #manga #female reader #Shinichiro x f!reader

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sukirichi · 3 years

Text

golden days

GOLDEN DAYS ; what it’s like dating Inarizaki’s golden boy

NOTE. kita shinsuke is amazing. he’s perfect. yeah, that’s it. i love him.

[THE FIRST MEETING.]

“I look forward to working with you!” You bow deep as a greeting, hands trembling as they wrap around the test packets. You’ve recently been appointed as the class assistant to help him balance his duties, whatnot being class president and captain of the volleyball team and whatnot. Kita Shinsuke is one of the most impressive students in your school without a doubt, and to be chosen as his assistant, the pressure is quite closing to choking you.

Gosh, you haven’t even ironed your vest down today.

With a grimace, you pat your skirt down in hopes to make yourself more presentable when he hums, silently taking the heavy stack of papers from you.

“I look forward to working with you as well,” his voice is smooth, cool, and gentle like going to a sunny beach on a cold day. It’s both chilling and warming at the same time, and you stare up at him with wide eyes. “Follow me. I’ll help you take this to the faculty room.”

“Oh, y-yes!”

You don’t miss the way he carries more packets compared to your load, but he doesn’t mind. Years of playing volleyball definitely gained him some strength in those muscles. Unable to help it, your lips tug upwards in a smile as you fall into step beside him, feeling weirdly giddy that he doesn’t seem to be that scary, after all. You both keep to yourselves all the way there, a comfortable silence stretching over.

Usually, you prefer noise filling in the gaps to avoid awkward moments, but with Kita, its appreciated, peaceful even. You welcome it wholeheartedly, that warm blossoming feeling erupting all over your chest even as you made it back to your classroom.

You fidget at the doorframe, wondering if you should say thank you or see you at the meeting after class, hands fiddled with one another while your eyebrows pinch together.

What can you say to Kita Shinsuke?

He beats you to it as he passes you by, his hands faintly grazing against the pads of your knuckles as he tries to fit himself through the door with your body blocking his way. “Thank you,” Kita nods politely, “I’ll talk to you later again in the meeting.”

“Y-yeah, sure,” you stammer, ignoring the loud beating of your heart. Could it just be you, or was there a spark of electricity when his skin came into contact with yours?

[THE FIRST STUDY SESSION.]

“Ugh,” you groan before falling onto the book right in front of you. Kita sits next to you, completely unbothered as he keeps studying his notes, his focus as unwavering as him. “Kita, I don’t understand a single thing.”

“Hmm, which part don’t you get?”

Your groan grows louder as you turn your head to the side, about to complain that proverbs just weren’t your thing, only to stop and flush heated. Kita’s leaned closer to you, unbothered by the lack of space or the fact that he’s close enough you could count his lashes, both bottom and top row. His eyes skim over the messy scrawls of your notebook, humming to himself before nodding.

“That one’s easy. I can teach you that,” Kita scoots closer, his pen spinning in his pretty fingers before he sees your quivering lips, cheek bitten inside your mouth. “What’s wrong?”

Of course he doesn’t know!

“Nothing at all!” you sit back up, spine straight and clearing your throat awkwardly. You make sure to keep your gaze averted from his the whole time, nails dug into your skirt as you pray to whoever diving being that he won’t get to hear the pumping of your heart in this proximity. “Oh yeah, I don’t understand this part. You get it though, don’t you?” That’s a rhetorical question – what exactly didn’t Kita know? – you can’t help yourself from asking just to hide your nervousness.

“Yes. It should be easy. Now, take a look at this passage…”

Although it’s your idea to join the volleyball captain the moment you saw him studying by himself in the library, you found to regret it afterwards. You couldn’t focus on a single thing at all, not when his fingers are so slender and pretty as they point to words blurring over the paper, his scent both calming and intoxicating.

You offer mindless nods every now and then, though his words enter one ear and out into the other. Minutes pass – maybe it’s even been an hour – you don’t really know.

Kita closes your books shut with a sigh, a sound he only makes when really tired. You panic and ready yourself to apologize for being such a burden when Kita closes his eyes, his chuckles soft and a little teasing as he shakes his head. “You didn’t understand a single thing, did you?”

Caught red handed.

There’s no point lying now that he’s easily seen through you, and your shoulders deflate, head ducked in embarrassment. “I’m sorry. I was just distracted.”

“I know,” although his voice is nonchalant as ever, Kita is hiding a smirk and blushing cheeks behind the palm of his hand. He reaches over to get another book, English this time around; a subject you’re better at than he is, as a silent way of saying now it’s your turn to teach him. “Next time, focus on the lesson instead of staring my face, yeah?”

[THE FIRST HAND HOLDING.]

Life has been so sweet and golden ever since you and Kita started dating.

It’s honestly still so hard to fathom that Kita actually likes you – likes you enough to date you! Steam is pouring out your ears and your lips won’t stop shaking as you fight back a smile, in complete disbelief that Kita is walking right beside you, handsome and sweet as ever as you guys go out on your first date. He’s been the one to ask you out but lets you choose where you want to go anyway, but being the flustered, nervous mess you are, you just blurt that a walk in the park is nice.

You snicker at yourself while the memory replays. Walk in the park? What are you two, dogs?

Just thinking about makes you turn your head to the side, chin planted on your shoulder as you grimace. Kita doesn’t seem too bothered, but then again, he’s always been hard to read.

You gasp a little when Kita suddenly holds your shoulders, blinking rapidly as he switches positions with you. His face is blank, nodding once upon seeing you’re on the other side of the sidewalk now while he’s closer to the road. It’s such a respectful, polite act that isn’t even romantic at all, but you can’t help but smile anyway, giggling to yourself while Kita shoves his hands down his pockets.

“Something funny?”

“Nope,” you say with the ‘p’ popping, “Nothing at all.”

He raises a brow in question, but doesn’t pry further. You’re swinging your arms side to side, perhaps a little too giddy that you’re with him until your hand is rendered motionless. Brows furrowing, your gaze lands on the sudden warmth spreading all over you.

Kita is holding your hand, his thumb gently forming circles over yours.

If you were feeling giddy before, your eyes are pumping heart eyes now. It dawns on you that your hands are shaking and embarrassingly sweaty, soft against his rough ones, and you try to pull away to rub the sweat onto your skirt. Kita doesn’t give you the chance and tugs you closer instead until your forehead knocks onto his shoulder, making the docile guy snicker.

“Something funny?” you taunt this time around, using your other hand to rub at your sore forehead. He’s a lot muscular and firmer than you thought, making you look like a soft marshmallow in comparison. You don’t hate it though – if anything, it just makes you happier.

Kita notices this written all over your face as he smiles, leaning close until he’s looking at you in eye-level. “Nope,” he repeats, “Nothing at all.”

[THE FIRST KISS.]

Your hands are gripping Kita’s jacket so hard you fear you’ll break it. His hands are gentle and tender as they grip your waist, his little sighs into your lips enough to break you. Your eyes are shut tight, warm lips above his moving cautiously as to not weird him out even though he’s the first one that leaned in.

In your nervousness, your knee beside his body slips farther to the side until you’re falling from his grasp. You gasp at the sliding sensation as you pull away from Kita, hands clutching his clothes while you fall.

Kita, fast and careful as ever, simply places a solid hand flat at your back, wasting no time to bring you back into his lips again. This time around, he’s no longer soft, dominant even as he places you firmly above his lap, hands strong and wrapped around your waist.

You moan when Kita slips his tongue in, tasting the strawberry lollipop you were sucking earlier, the sweetness of it earning you a low groan from him as a reward.

At this point, your heart is about to combust. His hands are everywhere, lips and tongue tasting every inch and spot of yours like he’s been dying to have a taste this whole time. Your confidence grows the longer and harder he kisses you, hands moving up to his shoulders then to his jaw, cupping his face to press your lips harder against his.

Kita smiles into the lip-locking, bending his head sideways to kiss you deeper, his large hand now lingering at the back of your head. Faster than you would like, Kita pulls away, his eyes hazy with something unreadable – something different than what you usually see from him.

His lips are red and moist, and you breathe harder at the thought that your usual composed boyfriend is tethering at the edges because of you.

It makes you wonder just what else you could do to fluster him and bring out more different sides of him, but as always, Kita is one step ahead of you, your recent thoughts an old and never-ending plan of his.

“I love you,” he blurts out, rendering you speechless one more time. When you groan in embarrassment and hide your face in his chest, Kita laughs, the sound a heart warming one as if he isn’t enjoying how fun it is to tease you. Nevertheless, he only tightens his hold around you, pushing you over the edge again and prompting your heart to do unhealthy back flips the moment he kisses the top of your head. “I love you.”

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fanfic-cave · 3 years

Text

Injured Pt. 2

Rating: SFW/PG-13

Word Count: 1.9k

Pairing: not so subtle hint to Hunter x Fem Jedi!OC

Warnings: Blood/bleeding, burn, and just general injured person, swearing, and FLUFF TIME (also sparks of feelings and the characters not recognizing them is like a drug to me so have fun)

Summary: You commissioned the bad batch to take you to Dantooine for your own personal mission in search of a Jedi temple, being an ex-jedi clone wars veteran. The rogue clones inevitably find a fight, which leads to Hunter getting injured. How will you all escape, and will you be able to rescue Hunter before its too late?

Authors note: Thanks for the notes on part 1! If part 1 was action, this is where the fluff ensues.

Link to part one here

You saw the blood on Hunter's hands, and images flashed through your brain. Dead clone troopers, your last fight on Umbara where your battalion was wiped out. I can’t let that happen again. You dove out of your cover and rushed to him. “Wrecker, help me get him!”

Echo shouted in through comms “Crosshair, focus your shots on whoever's firing that thing!”

You easily avoided the blaster fire, and with Wreckers help you pulled Hunter back to cover. You started assessing the blaster injury on him. It looked black and red, splotches of blood staining his uniform. “Hunter, can you hear me?”

Hunter gripped his side where the blaster shot him. “Yeah.” His voice sounded a bit weak. He wasn’t doing too great.

“I can help him, but we need to get to the ship now.” You spoke to the group.

“I’ve got it!” Tech spoke triumphantly, and made quick movements with the stolen comm unit he held. Suddenly all fire ceased from the Empires troopers. You peeked out and saw the troopers were clutching their heads, like they were in pain. It looked like Tech was sending them some strong feedback, a few had even passed out.

“Let’s move!” Echo called out. Wrecker helped Hunter stand, you went to the other side to support him, and you began your retreat. Crosshair remained for a minute to shoot down some troopers who were recovering, then he joined in the escape.

The ship wasn’t far, and you fortunately made it there in time before you and the group had to engage in another skirmish. Omega was standing by the ship, and saw you approach. She looked at Hunter and you think you saw tears well up in her eyes. “Hunter!” She ran toward him. “Is he okay? What's wrong?”

“Just a blaster shot, don’t worry about it.” Hunter spoke and gave her a reassuring nod. You knew he didn’t know for sure if he was okay or not. Everyone boarded the ship quickly.

“Get him to the medical station and do what you can Sera, Tech let’s get the ship out of here.” Echo spoke. He seemed to be comfortable acting as lead to the group with Hunter being more or less out of commission.

You and Wrecker moved to the medical bay with Hunter held up between the two of you, everyone else stayed behind. Crosshair had put a hand on Omegas shoulder to keep her from following you. Once at the small medical station on the ship, Wrecker helped set Hunter down.

“Is he gonna be okay?” Wrecker asked. He looked at you with worry written all over his face

You removed Hunter's helmet and the top of his armor, being gentle with your movements. “I think I can fix this, give me a minute.” His face looked a little pale, a sheen of sweat coating his skin.

The boys knew you had medical experience. There was a day where Omega had sprained her ankle while you were in the area. You were able to treat the small injury, and she healed relatively fast. Then she got a scratch, then Wrecker hit his head, and soon enough you began to get calls from them if a serious injury was involved. They knew to give you space and let you work.

You hesitated, and then removed your mask, setting it aside on the nearby table. Your hood fell to your shoulders. None of the bad batchers, save for Omega, had seen you without your mask, but you needed it off to work better. Plus with the battle you all went through together, you figured hiding your face wasn't a priority right now. Your blonde hair was in a tight braid. It was short and barely extended past the base of your skull. Hunter looked at you curiously, but his gaze kept shifting, like he was having a hard time staying conscious. “Keep your eyes open Hunter. I’m gonna clean this and we’ll get you patched up.”

You wiped some sweat off of him and he nodded at you, gritting his teeth. You cut away his shirt, and revealed the wound. You saw he was quite toned and muscular once the shirt was gone, and you felt your face grow warm.

Stop looking at his muscles Sera. You shook your head to snap out of it and got back to work. There were multiple shots on his right flank, nearly missing the center of his abdomen. His skin was burned where the shots had hit him. The burn wasn’t too deep, but there was some blood and irritation. Hunter must’ve been in a lot of pain. You glanced at his face. He was good at hiding it.

You administered a numbing agent, hoping to help with the pain. He seemed to relax a bit after this. Then, you looked around to check and be sure nobody else was in the room to watch. You closed your eyes, and put your hand over the wound. You opened yourself up to the force, and used it to sense Hunter's body. After a moment of concentration, it was easy to start the flow and you began to heal him. This was the real reason why you excelled in first aid: you could heal with the force, and it had made you a damn good general during the clone wars.

I still couldn’t save them. My troopers.

You cast the thought away quickly. You stopped your force healing, and got to work with bacta. You hadn’t used the force to seal up his wound, but you tried giving some life force to him as an attempt to ease away more of the pain and give him some strength. He seemed to gain a bit more color, and he looked stronger.

“You don’t look so bad.” Hunter said. He was looking at you, studying your face. You raised your eyebrows at him questioningly as you cleaned his wound out.

“Without the mask, I mean. You look nice.” You felt the heat return to your face again. You thought of his somewhat exposed body in front of you, then glanced at his face. “You’re not too bad yourself,” You said teasingly.

“I mean it.” He countered. “Why the mask?” You sighed at his question. That’s complicated.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.” He averted his gaze. He seemed embarrassed, or maybe sorry that he had gotten that reaction from you. You watched him for a second, debating whether or not to share.

You looked back at your hands and kept working as you spoke. “You’re all hiding from the Empire, right? Let’s just say you’re not the only ones.” He contemplated what you said for a moment.

“Thank you Sera.” Hunter's eyes found yours, trying to hold your gaze. He seemed earnest in his appreciation.

“Just don’t get into the habit of getting shot, alright?” You smiled at him and he chuckled at your joke. You sealed a large bacta patch on the wound. “But I think you’ll live today.”

“I also meant for coming and helping us.” He made eye contact with you. You felt a flutter in your chest, an unexpected response from his intense gaze.

You broke away from his gaze and sat down. “It was nothing. Like I said, I thought you guys could use the help. And I know you’re all capable, but I wanted to do what I could.” You shrugged when you finished.

Hunter sat up and put a hand on your shoulder. “We could’ve been in worse shape without you today Sera. That wasn’t nothing.” His hand was warm. You became more aware of your breathing suddenly and took a deep breath. You looked back up to him, and he was still staring at you. He wasn’t the easiest person to read, but you could tell he really wanted you to know that he was grateful.

You put your hand on top of his. More warmth spread through your body. “It was really nothing Hunter.” You smiled shyly now. Well, this is kinda weird. You thought. Why am I feeling like this around Hunter? Is it because he’s not wearing a shirt? You continued contemplating why you felt your heart trying to beat out of your chest, and the fact that Hunter's touch made an electric current pulse through your body. Maybe because I don’t have the mask on. Being exposed and whatnot. You decided this was a good theory.

“Let me know if you start feeling some pain, I'll be able to help.” You squeezed his hand as you spoke. “Sure thing.” He replied. You felt his fingers twitch underneath yours. You felt the flutter in your chest again when his fingers moved under yours.

The door opened and Omega walked in. “Hunter, are you okay?” She walked up to him, looking at the patch on his side. You felt his hand slip out between your shoulder and hand, taking his warmth with him. “Yeah kid, I’ll be fine thanks to her.” He tilted his head towards you.

“Hunter, it’s really-“ you interjected again, preparing to downplay your role in helping Hunter. Omega had interrupted you though by giving you a hug. You looked down for a second, then quickly glanced at Hunter. You thought you saw him smile, but he was getting up now. You looked back to Omega and patted her back, returning the hug. “Thank you Sera!” She released you and looked up at you with admiration. You had a soft spot for her, and you couldn’t help but smile genuinely at her. “Sure, Omega. It was no problem.”

Hunter walked past you two, then stopped at the door, leaning at the frame. You watched him, an eyebrow raised questioningly. He turned to look at you. “You know, we could probably use your help more often if we go out on more missions like this. I’m sure everyone else would agree.”

“Are you asking me to tag along when there’s a next time?” you asked, crossing your arms and raising your eyebrows to emphasize the when, not if. You were smirking too, enjoying the fact that Hunter was asking for your help. It was a rare occurrence and you wanted to enjoy the moment by teasing him for it.

He sighed. “Yeah, I am.” He looked away from you and waited for your response. Your smirk turned into a smile. You stood up and walked to Hunter, slightly punching his arm. “Yeah I could come and save your ass more.” You laughed, and he rolled his eyes at your comment.

Omega looked between the two of you, happy at the relationship that seemed to be developing. “You saved their ass?” She spoke, and your eyes widened. Hunter said “Hold on Omega, Sera didn’t mean to say that, Right?” He looked at you with furrowed brows, and the tone of his voice dropped when he addressed you. “Yep! That word doesn’t exist Omega, don't say it!” The words came out quickly and you walked past Hunter with a quick movement.

“Sera!” He followed you and exited out of the med station, you sensed a quippy back and forth conversation was about to happen. You smiled as he moved to follow you. I think I just made a friend. You thought. And if your suspicions were correct, you think you would get another 5 friends down the road.

#tbb #tcw #the bad batch #the clone wars #star wars #hunter #echo #tech #crosshair #wrecker #omega #hunter x reader #hunter x jedi #jedi #dantooine #havoc marauder #fanfiction #fanfic #the bad batch x reader

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maxwell-grant · 3 years

Text

On Lord Hawthorne

A lot of what makes Lavender Jack special to me is the way it’s so masterfully able to create engaging, modern material out of it’s influences, and it’s creation of a genuinely timeless pulp icon that I think should serve as the ideal baseline for any and all creators who want to create stories based on pulp characters, old and new alike, in the future.

As I make my way through Season 2 and eagerly await Season 3 I’d like to take the time to talk a little about the often overlooked half of the villain duo of Season 1, Lord Hawthorne, and what I think is interesting about him. Out of the many ways pulp heroes have been reimagined into villains over the decades, Lord Hawthorne stands out to me as easily one of the best ones, as a thoughtful take on the Tarzan character.

Spoilers before the cut

The first thing everyone immediately picks about Lord Hawthorne is that he’s Tarzan, with hardly any ifs or buts about it. He’s Tarzan, and we quickly learn that he’s the villain, part of a villain duo with Lady Hawthorne, the real mastermind and kingpin in pearls behind the story’s events. Having Tarzan as the villain n a story that draws from pulp and Edwardian fiction is already an interesting start, as three of the most popular molds from which are pulp heroes are based on, three of the most popular characters as icons, are Tarzan, the Scarlet Pimpernel, and Sherlock Holmes, all three of which exist in some capacity in the world of Lavender Jack. The Gentleman Villain, The Great Detective, and The Wild Man.

Lavender Jack, as I’ve mentioned, is based on the Pimpernel, as well as other figures such as Spring-Heeled Jack and Bertie Wooster. Jack draws from icons that largely predate the pulp heroes because, in Schkade’s own reasoning, if you’re going to try and create an authentic pulp hero, it only makes sense to use as a base the characters that largely inspired them, and clearly that worked out very well. Jack is a Pimpernel remodeled and recontextualized into modern sensibilities, into an era of superheroes and webcomics.

In the Great Detective’s case, we have the figure of Madame Theresa Ferrier, who is called into the story by the Mayor to try and solve the mystery of Lavender Jack’s identity. Schkade describes Ferrier as a character that pulls from elements of detectives like Hercule Poirot and C.Auguste Dupin as well as Sherlock Holmes, in particular Jeremy Brett’s later year performances. As he describes:

In the series’ final years, Brett was getting older, sicker, hindered by bipolar medications that sapped his energy and caused him to gain weight, and he used it. His Holmes became a fading, melancholic shadow of his younger self, but with the spark of his brilliance showing through when it counted. I always found that so compelling

Ferrier is repeteadly described in-universe as “The Great Detective”, and she is both the oldest as well as the most brilliant character in the comic. Despite her age, despite her physical complications, and the tragedy that surrounds her love life, she is nonetheless incredibly skilled, strong and resourceful, able to unmask Jack and survive a confrontation with Lord Hawthorne and even nearly beat him. Ferrier draws from the Great Detectives of old, but this is a character that could never be mistaken for any of them. She’s not specifically based on any of them because, as Schkade puts it: “I wanted her to be someone I’d never get to draw in a leading role in most of my work-for-hire jobs”.

Her role in the comic ends up being one of mentorship to Jack, and despite her age being emphasized as well as the idea of her belonging to an older generation of great heroes that now gives way to the younger and hot-blooded Jack as well as Ferrier’s new partner in Honoria Crabb, Ferrier is very much another great example of where the old meets the new in Lavender Jack. Pulling from the great old archetypes but very much recognizable as her own thing.

Thing is, when it comes to Lord Hawthorne, we don’t really get that, because Lord Hawthorne isn’t really combining the idea of Tarzan with a splash of something new and outstanding and modern. He really is just Tarzan, and not a terribly layered character at that, for much of the story he’s largely just a voiceless bulldozer who exists to do the dirty work of Lady Hawthorne no matter how dirty. This isn’t at all a criticism, because I think Hawthorne being just Tarzan, with little to no bells and whistles and twists on it, is central to what makes him work not just as a great physical threat Jack must overcome (in a similar way to Bane as both a monstrous powerhouse and also having a strong connection to a powerful pulp hero), but also someone whose tragedy comes to light as we finally learn more about him. The fact that he is monosyllabic and largely devoid of any personal interests or life outside of being muscle for Lady Hawthorne is something deliberate, as outlined in a speech given by another character in Chapter 39

Her world's been changing for years, now. She's taking her place in a wider game. A more nuanced game. And you're still...Why, you're only good for one thing, aren't you? Well, maybe two, you old hound, you.

I know why you spend vast stretches of the year off in that jungle. It's not for sport, it's not to keep your edge...it's because when there's no need to fight, no struggle to win, no enemy...there's just...you.

And you know there's not really anything to you, underneath all those scars and muscles.

No dreams, no warmth, no depth. Nothing to love.

So you stay away...and that way, you can come when she calls you. You can sweep back to Gallery and show up all filthy and draw her into your powerful, savage embrace....and maintain your novelty.

All of this so you'll never have to endure a silent sunday afternoon where there's nothing to do, any no one to kill, and your lady simply...doesn't...need you.

You do know this word, don't you, Hawthorne, old fellow? "Novelty?"

And how does he respond?

Not with a denial, but an affirmation that this is ultimately all personhood amounts to, in his worldview. Just one more thing to be conquered and then used as a club to batter others with.

The very act of a character questioning their own worth and depth of personality usually tends to be a telling sign that they, in fact, have those things even if they are out of touch with them, but Hawthorne doesn’t particularly rebuff anything Van Lund’s saying. He just reaffirms his title as Lord while threatening him with violence, because violence is all he knows.

As we later learn, Lord Hawthorne isn’t, in fact, the real Lord Hawthorne, but instead he and his wife usurped the title from the real one as they escaped from the jungle, where he was only known as “the wild man”. A man who’s been forced his entire life to live in a kill-or-be-killed world, to live as an animal in constant conflict with humans, was then captured and then brutally tortured every day for over a month, and then found for the first time someone who treated him with something resembling affection, someone who ultimately turned him into a tool for her evil designs, and he readily accepts this because he has no life, no identity, outside of her. He doesn’t even know his own name.

In fact, for all we know, he might as well be John Clayton himself, except he was born in a world where being Tarzan is not the greatest thing ever and there was no Jane or ape mother to guide his malleable heart into something resembling good, and there was only Sarah to mold him into an instrument of murder at his lowest point.

I argue that Tarzan is a character that’s all about freedom and vitality, as a heroic take on an archetype that’s long been the missing link between superheroes and monsters, where the dual nature of mankind between person and ape acts not as a disorder or source of conflict but instead as the ultimate power fantasy in a character who gets the best of both with none of the downsides. Lord Hawthorne isn’t necessarily a return to form, because there is no dual nature to him. There is no gentleman, no Lord Greystoke descendant of nobility, romantic hero and great adventurer and leader of men and whatnot. There is only the ape, and what little façade has been grafted onto him by his master so he can pass off as a person, only long enough until he takes his shirt off and starts murdering people for her. While we get long extended close-ups of the icy cruelty in Lady Hawthorne’s eyes, there is none for Lord Hawthorne, because he is not cruel, he is an animal. He’s not a fighter, he’s a survivor. He lives to kill and serve the person who tells him who or what to kill.

Lord Hawthorne is what happens when you strip the Tarzan legend of the romanticism of fiction and you look at it for what it would likely result in: the tragic story of a child forced to grow in the jungle, where the concept of personhood and human decency are utterly meaningless and there is only survival, where his existence is at odds with the worlds of man and animal alike, and what happens when that sort of being receives a first contact with something resembling decency and love. Even if said first contact wasn’t with someone as evil as Lady Hawthorne, there was little chance Lord Hawthorne’s life was ever going to be anything other than just an extension of his life in the jungle, or end in anything other than tragedy, and ultimately even the characters start to pity the wild man.

Jack: All that power and stamina and fighting acumen, but yet all you seem to get to use it for is...this. Another laborious climb to another locked-room murder.

Ferrier: You've long passed the point where human lives hold any meaning. You are detached from our species, a...a stranger, loose among us. I thought the sight of you would stir distain in me, or even fear...but as I look at you now...I feel for you only the strangest sort of pity.

What I like most about Lord Hawthorne as a take on Tarzan is that, far too often, we see intended “deconstructions” or reinterpretations of the classic pulp heroes, or even superheroes, that largely just make them villainous by extrapolating the worst possible interpretations of the character’s traits or real-life circumstances around them to villainize them, or outright invent faults and problems that weren’t there in the source material, usually to put one character over the other. The entirety of League of Extraordinary Gentlemen is built on this, as is a lot of Superman parodies built on getting the most graphically shocking results possible.

I'll admit it’s somewhat hypocritical of me to criticize this entirely, because it’s an impulse that I sadly admit I myself have fallen into in my own writings on characters not my own, as anyone who’s ever talked with me about Doc Savage, a character I do not like and cannot bring myself to like, can testify. I get why this happens, even if I understand why it’s shitty. Ultimately, the best “deconstructions” or reinterpretations will always come from people who are best familiar with the material they are using and know exactly the best ways to twist it, like with Mark Waid’s Irredeemable, an Evil Superman comic written by a huge Superman fan who knows exactly the absolute worst ways a Superman character can go sour, and was leagues ahead of works like The Boys and Brightburn who largely just take the “easy” pot shots.

With Lord Hawthorne, we get a character who’s an evil take on Tarzan, but whose evilness isn’t made from exaggerating or adding faults to the source material character, which could very easily be done. I never got the sense that the author hates Tarzan and wants everyone to hate Tarzan and is willingly to sacrifice immersion just to get across how much he hates Tarzan (again, something LOEG does way too often), in fact it really doesn’t matter how the author feels about Tarzan, because those feelings are irrevelant to what’s on the page.

Instead, Lord Hawthorne is an evil take on Tarzan whose characterization is largely based on just looking at the source material, the character’s origins, and extrapolating the circumstances in which that could go sour. What would a “wild man” forced to grow up and fight for survival every day in the jungle look like, what would that person look like when making it’s first contact with human affection, how could that person be twisted and manipulated into becoming a villain, what’s even left to that person outside of violent action scenes. How little it would take to twist a childhood hero into a brute that murders old women in their hospital beds, just by tweaking a few details about the context surrounding him.

He is not a caricature of Tarzan, he’s not a parody, he is just Tarzan, but no longer the power fantasy. No longer the center of fantastical adventures. No longer getting the best of both worlds, but instead having to contend with the worst of them. Ultimately only finding some dignity in death, with his nemesis expressing hope that, maybe somewhere else, he’s going to have better luck than what this world afforded him.

#lavender jack #pulp heroes #comics tag #lord hawthorne #dan schkade #far from my favorite thing about this comic but #that in itself should be a testament to just how amazing lavender jack is #please go read it

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senju-sekhmet · 3 years

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The Leash (Part 6)

Summary: Your rescue was supposed to be as smooth as these missions can be. However very quickly, Tobirama faces off against an enemy that has no form, color or smell - and time is running short, very fast. Unless he figures out what truly holds you hostage, your life will be lost. Warnings (for the finished work): Blood, illness, descriptions of heavy injuries and graphic violence, torture (both depicted and implied), needles, morally grey territory, human experimentation, panic attacks, character death ~6800 words (this chapter, finished work: 80.000) Previous: Part 1; Part 2; Part 3; Part 4; Part 5 Read on AO3! Disclaimer below the cut!

DISCLAIMER! -i reckon I don’t need the paste it again… but in short: this is a purely self-indulgent work which contains a lot of my own headcanons and whatnot. this chapter especially so! lots of talking and thinking - curious to see what you think!! THANKS FOR READING <3 Ikuro greeted him with a warm smile at the interrogation headquarters. "You produce results fast," he commented after Tobirama explained to him where his research had led him so far. They were sitting in the small office adjourning the holding cell block again. Tobirama could only muster a huff in response. "It is possible I'm being put under pressure by time." His tone was perfectly caustic again.

Ikuro, on the other hand, was entirely unfazed. Tobirama decided he appreciated that about the man; he never had been fond of fainthearted individuals.

"I suggest we start with the least valuable prisoner," Ikuro then turned more serious, placing his broad hand on the table. "There is, after all, a chance this might backfire."

Tobirama nodded. A sensible thought. "That would be Akio." Then, he frowned. "However you noted he's broken already. Our goal is to gain information, too. All we'd confirm would be the drug wasn't lethal. And ascertain the bodily effects of this drug." As he spoke the words, he found the sensible approach - the logical one - didn’t sit too well with him.

Ikuro hummed affirmatively. "What do you suggest, Tobirama?", easily catching the uncertainty.

Tobirama crossed his arms. Frankly he had to ponder the question. There was merit in trying it in those who knew about the leash - but the danger of permanently harming or even killing them was there, too. However did they really know anything about the leash? Would they even relinquish their knowledge?

Had he reason to believe his drug could be considered that dangerous to not… take this risk?

He had no time. You had no time. "Let's try the strongest of them."

Ikuro's pale eyes lit up and flashed his teeth in a grin which otherwise might’ve let a shiver run down Tobirama’s spine. "That would be Zenji. The … polite fellow in the middle holding cell. You met him when you first came here."

Tobirama couldn’t have stopped the roll of his eyes even if he wanted to. He gave an exasperated groan. "Great. I’m thrilled to meet him again." That man would test his patience. Tobirama would refuse to guarantee for his safety.

Luckily, he wasn’t made to make any such promises. Ikuro rose to his feet, Tobirama followed suit. Before they set for the cells though, Tobirama explained his plan. Ikuro only nodded in agreement. An eerie kind of calm was settling over him when they finally entered the Stone shinobi’s cell block. It was not an unfamiliar feeling; rather a welcome kind of dissociation that had been well practiced in the warring states era. They all had, at some point, committed atrocious acts. Tobirama never looked back, his logic had been sound.

Just like this time. And what would follow here might be another ugly entry in a list of infamous cruelties - but another necessary one.

As they walked, he could feel the glances of the other prisoners on him as he passed them - and he spared none of them a single glance.

Once they stood in front of the cell, the lanky man’s eyes lit up in way too much delight. "How's the lady?", Zenji gloated immediately.

Tobirama ignored the question. If that was how he’d play it - he was ready. The ire burning under his skin was causing him to tremble almost still. A discussion, the man knew, might easily lead to bloodshed. And being riled up into beating up a chained up man was below Tobirama’s dignity. Although thinking about it provided some needed relief.

"Why are you keeping them like this?", he inquired quietly, hissing through clenched teeth, wondering about the fact all the cells were adjourned - what they did here, the others could hear.

Ikuro considered Tobirama with a thoughtful glance. "Additional pressure. They hear what we're doing to each of them on top of their own, ah, sessions."

Tobirama had guessed that was the reason.

He still felt like bloody murder. Rage like this - born from revenge - was a low motive, and Tobirama frankly despised himself for this. The only thing that mattered was whether one acted on their emotions or not, he knew. Yet he just had to remind himself of the fact that within less than a week, you'd run out of the despised drug they had tethered you to. And that the man in front of him, Zenji, might know how to save your life.

All things were relative, after all.

Ikuro unlocked Zenji's cell. The man was chained up in the same fashion he had been before - no movement allowed except maybe a wiggle of his toes. The chains were suspended from the walls of the cell and over and over painted with various seals, a few of which Tobirama recognised. Chakra sealing seals mostly, as well as other, sinister uses.

They both stepped inside and Ikuro locked it again.

Zenji gave a haughty laugh. "Not gonna speak to me? Awh, come on. Maybe I'll give you a hint about the leash if you do." He wriggled his eyebrows almost suggestively.

The blood was rushing in Tobirama's ear. His muscles were taut like a bow's string and it took every ounce of his willpower not to at least verbally jump at this man. Don’t, he chanted inwardly, don’t. Briefly, he closed his eyes and shook his head slightly as if to clear the berserk haze that wanted to settle over him.

Surprisingly, it worked somewhat.

Ikuro stepped to Zenji's side. "You're getting a treat, Zenji." A second later, his big hand had grabbed the back of his skull by his hair.

Tobirama stepped closer, procuring the vial from his pocket.

Zenji laughed haughtily. "Ah, ah," his eyes were trained on the vial. "Trying to recreate the leash?"

Tobirama stood right in front of him then, glare icy while the rage inside burned ever hotter. His expression was perfectly neutral, he didn't even bat an eyelash. "I'm going to tether you to the leash, eventually." His voice was nonchalant despite the rage that wanted to eat him up.

Zenji's eyes widened momentarily. Was there a hint of fear in them? But it was gone as soon as Tobirama thought he'd seen it. "You're gonna fail," the Stone shinobi spat, his smugness becoming caustic swiftly. "You can't ever hope to do that."

Tobirama tilted his head to the side, eyebrows rising slowly. "Why is that?", he asked, lazily, disinterested. Perhaps there was merit in trying to engage in a conversation with him, after all.

Zenji tried to whip his head from Ikuro's grasp, who just pulled harder at his scalp. "As if you'd be able to recreate it like that. You're fucking running out of leash and Y/n is gonna fucking die." His voice was dripping with hatred and no small amount of pleasure.

For just a second, Tobirama imagined ripping his throat out with his bare hands if just to ease the fury that was burning through every fiber of his body now; the gory picture helping momentarily not to act on it. Or at least verbally lash out. Still, he knew he’d despise himself for it - such an act was beneath him. The man was key to finding out how to save you. He had to keep telling himself in order to keep the white-hot rage crawling under his skin only. How he managed to retain his poker face was beyond him. Maybe the gruesome image did help.

He drew his lips into a condescending sneer. "I'm one of Konoha's most distinguished scientists. Don't think for a second I couldn't recreate anything your village came up with." His voice was dripping with arrogance.

Zenji was retorting with a sneer of his own. Ikuro's lips were drawn in a fine smile. "You're fucking desperate is what you are," he snickered, "That drug is impossible to recreate. Too complicated."

Tobirama gave only a lazy sigh and topped it off with an annoyed roll of his eyes. "Yes, I suppose for the likes of you that might be true." He leaned in a little. "I'm not you , though. Eventually, I will. And in the meanwhile, I'm going to test every single one of my experiments on you. You know," he mustered the man then a little as if he was nothing more than an object. "I'm wondering if you're actually afraid."

Zenji's eyelid twitched and he threw himself into the restraints binding him. Ikuro's grip was unrelenting, but he frowned slightly. "Afraid? Afraid?! You can't even risk me!", his voice was shrill and his face became contorted by fury.

Interesting. Ikuro thought so too - his pale eyes had narrowed and stared at Tobirama intently.

Tobirama remained impassive, just swishing the vial back and forth with a leisure movement of his wrist. The truth was he was far from that. He wondered if beating on this man until he spilled the beans really wasn't an option. But he was so close. Zenji had already made a mistake, and Tobirama had caught onto it, of course. Still, he needed confirmation. "I don't see why." He knew better than to keep up with this kind of verbal wrestling. That would only yield power to the prisoner.

Still, the hint had been obvious.

Zenji clenched his jaw tightly now. He, too, seemed to have realised his mistake.

A shrill voice floated over the corridor. The loony witch from the far end, Tobirama figured. "Zenji, you fucking idiot!"

She did sound coherently pissed now.

Unluckily for Zenji, that was the confirmation he needed. Time to take a shot at the obvious target. Tobirama leaned back, genuinely smug now. Both eyebrows arched up, his tone as sweet as sugar. "You're the only one left who knows how to create the leash, hm?"

Zenji apparently decided to break through the figurative front then - his lips drew in a condescending sneer again. "Alright, smart science boy. Assuming you brought all of the remaining leash with you to this godforsaken village," he began in a tone that made Tobirama's neck hair stand up. "Your precious lady has had about seven days to live, give or take, since we got here."

Tobirama already wanted to beat his face into a pulp now - how he spoke of your life in a simple calculation; an unfortunately very correct one - it was maddening. His heartbeat thundered through his skull as his world was incinerated in white-hot ire; he could barely feel the pain in his jaw from how hard he bit down on his teeth.

Zenji continued. "Now I kinda lost feeling for time in this fucking cell, but it couldn't have been more than two. So how about this, Tobirama Senju - all I have to do is last a few more days and then my knowledge will be meaningless because-" he leaned forward, wearing a huge, fat grin, "- Y/n's gonna have left this world, screaming and writhing in agony."

Tobirama's heartbeat was through the roof now. His fists clenched so hard, the vial might break in them but he did not move an inch.

"Unless,... you put her out of her misery beforehand."

For the fraction of a second, eerie silence filled the cell.

Tobirama's fist shot out before Ikuro could even do so much as realise what was about to happen. A sickening crunch echoed through the cell as it made contact with Zenji's lower jaw, who howled in pain in response.

"Tobirama!" Ikuro cautioned, pale eyes ablaze now. The situation was getting out of hand.

Tobirama almost didn't even register the warning. All he heard was the rhythm beating inside him as a fine tremor of fury shook him. His scarlet stare held him pinned, eyes ablaze - if looks could kill, Zenji would be dead now.

This man. How dared he.

How dared he to insinuate- To even think Tobirama would- That he couldn’t-

Zenji spat blood before Tobirama's feet. "I'm gonna fucking relish telling you it all once she's dead," he repeated, blood trickling down his chin, but mien filled with hatred. "You're never gonna crack how the leash is made in five days!" He drew his lips into an ugly grin, marred by the blood blood of his split lip.

Tobirama's fist balled again to deliver another blow to his face, but Ikuro cleared his throat authoritatively. In an instant, Tobirama's free hand had grasped around Zenji's broken mandibular bone and forced it forward with a lot more pressure than necessary. He made sure to put extra force on the side he had punched, just to be safe. If Ikuro had cautioned him not to worsen the prisoner’s injury, Tobirama did not hear it. He didn’t care, either. Zenji should be grateful Tobirama didn’t punch him again.

The prisoner howled in pain as he was barely able to resist his mouth being forced open simply due to the injury, Ikuro supporting by tilting his head back now. "Time for your medicine," Tobirama announced in an ice cold tone as he poured the contents of the vial into Zenji's mouth.

In an attempt to gag or wheeze it right back out he already tried to constrict his pharyngeal muscles, but Tobirama had seized his cricoid and pressed down harshly enough to force him to swallow - or else he'd suffocate.

Which he did, just a moment later.

For good measure, Tobirama kept the pressure up a few seconds longer, however.

When he released him, Zenji wheezed. "Fuck you," he spat, but his pupils began to dilatate already.

"Start," Tobirama commanded Ikuro in a pressed tone, shaking from fury still, who nodded and rested his hand on Zenji's head in order to assault the man's mind.

Tobirama meanwhile went for his throat to monitor his body with his chakra - sadly, he really did need to keep him alive. Which was difficult, as his focus was still clouded by the rage - the maddening fury he’d chastise himself for later.

The effects of his drug were - initially - comparable to the leash. The sensory overload of the brain worked the exact same way he had witnessed in you after indigestion - though now, it mingled with Ikuro's chakra, who was smothering him in what probably was a genjutsu or some other kind of mental assault. Tobirama couldn't help but marvel the expert level with which the man proceeded, comparing it to the brute force he had used on Akio. There was something to be learned here in the ways he didn't just smother him but let his chakra seep through every little crack of Zenji's mind, delivering mental stabs whenever he felt a crack in his mental fortress while coating him in a constant onslaught of pressure; a thick blanket of neverending slices at Zenji’s mind that made Tobirama shudder. It was much like watching a snake kill its prey - winding around the struggling victim tighter and tighter; the hopeless struggle of the despondent creature seemed to still as it starts to realise its demise while the snake viciously enjoys every drip of agony it can milk from it until finally, the unfortunate soul can no longer breathe.

Zenji's chakra on the other hand was sluggish - but not as subdued as Tobirama had hoped. The effect was there and the man definitely should feel his control over his chakra being significantly hampered, but it wasn't the same as Tobirama had seen in you. Stunted, yes, but not as frozen.

He was on the right path, after all.

Still, the screams Ikuro elicited from Zenji were music to Tobirama's ears. Just like the fact that physically, the man was fine. Tobirama flat out refused to heal the broken jaw, however. He didn't know how long the session lasted, but somewhere along the line, Zenji hat stilled. His head had tilted forward, the body limp.

"Enough," Ikuro announced finally, frowning.

Tobirama gave the man another brief once-over to make sure he was fine - besides the abused mind - then he removed his hand from his throat. His head felt dizzy. The ache in his heart was as agonizing as ever now that the rage had subsided. Ikuro clicked his tongue and waved his hand for Tobirama to follow. They headed back to the office. This time, he didn't feel the gazes of the other prisoners on his back.

Interesting.

Once in the office, Ikuro crossed his arms. "I don't think I need to explain-"

Tobirama cut him short with a wave of his hand. He didn't have time for a lecture. "I lost my composure. It won't happen again."

Ikuro stared back for a moment longer, then he walked to the desk. "Should I get the impression you're too emotionally biased to interrogate this man, someone else will have to conduct your experiments here."

"Understood." Like hell Tobirama would allow for that to happen.

Ikuro nodded, then folded his hands in front of him. "This was an interesting session nonetheless."

Tobirama crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Well, I'm glad you perceived it as such." He didn't cut back on the sarcasm.

Ikuro exhaled a sigh. "We have ascertained that Zenji is the only one who knows how to create the leash. And when I tried to pry open his mind, I found your little experiment made him a lot more susceptible to my methods." A fine smile formed on his lips.

Tobirama frowned slightly. The compliment felt sour still - he remembered how this was what you had suffered, and how it hadn't been near what the leash could do. In fact, by the end of the session Zenji's chakra control had been almost normal again.

No withdrawal effect, either.

"I did not break him still," Ikuro continued, "But I could take brief glimpses at the leash's creation, if I upped the pressure a lot."

That comment alone sent a jolt down Tobirama’s spine and he took a quick step forward. "Tell me."

"I'll show you," Ikuro held Tobirama's gaze with unwavering determination, and Tobirama stared back into the pale, turquoise eyes.

Then suddenly, he felt an image being pushed onto him - a genjutsu. Almost instinctively, he wanted to release it simply for the intrusion it caused - then he remembered what this was for. It was quite delicate anyway - fragments, loose images and echoes of sensations. Zenji's, Tobirama realised. He was holding a bottle filled with a clear substance. His chakra did something - a process that Tobirama could only guess at because every time he - Ikuro - tried to look closer, it was as if someone shoved him away. Still, there were some leads. Ways in which his chakra threaded through the liquid. Tiny - but something to go with - pieces of a puzzle. Where he still was missing about most parts of. It hinted at the utmost delicate process that seemed to be the creation of the leash - but it was proof. Proof that it truly was something of a chakra weaving process that created the leash.

"Release." Ikuro announced.

Tobirama's head was swimming again. A hand raked through his hair.

This was a lead. He should feel excited. Hopeful. Eager to work on it. Yet his mind wouldn't push past the crushing sense of dissatisfaction with this experiment, his outburst - and worst of all, Zenji's promise.

I'm gonna fucking relish telling you it all once she's dead.

Five days. He just had five days left and all he had was a vague lead and an experiment with a lukewarm result at least. Time - he was running out of time . His heart was thundering in his chest as his breaths came deeper than usual. He closed his eyes briefly.

If only he had more time.

Giving up was not an option. He'd just work harder. He'd sacrifice who knew what to make this work.

He breathed in deeply to try and alleviate the budding agony and dread inside him. It didn't work well. The pain stabbed at his heart, the sorrow had gripped him again. Tobirama was sure that if he closed his eyes, he'd see your face - in sheer agony.

Unless,... you put her out of her misery beforehand.

He swallowed the lump down his throat. It felt dry. The emotions that were swirling inside him were tiring him out; much like the days before, it was all too much. First the rage, and now the looming sense of doom and this utter despair he felt he couldn’t escape. He didn’t want to feel more, he couldn’t he was spent, but he did nonetheless, like a wound that couldn’t, wouldn’t stop bleeding. He was taking deep breaths against - against all this.

His gaze wandered to the clock.

Damn. You should have been awake for quite some time now.

"I will be back as soon as I have synthesised my next experiment. This is a start." He bowed curtly to thank Ikuro, who nodded in reply. "I need to go. See you soon."

Then, the world around him lurched as he teleported straight to your room.

________

Your nightmare had been exceptionally vivid this time.

Not just a horrible patchwork of memories from the past few weeks but a concise, terribly real scenario. Every single bit of the memory had felt like as though you were back in the dreadful hideout for sure. The screams echoed off the wall as they carved your flesh like a sculpture, the pain a thousand times worse due to this damn drug. By the time it had ended, your tormentor had cut you apart.

But you wouldn't die.

You never died.

The agony just never ended.

It all faded into a memory of pain supplied by your abused body. Eventually, the world was black. Then you slept. And when you woke, it still was dark.

With a sigh, you removed the blindfold from your eyes. Everything stayed dark. You forced yourself to take even breaths.

This had been the third time you had taken the leash since you had been rescued.

How many more would follow?

Your breathing picked up.

Dark. It was all too dark.

Your eyes wandered to where you knew the window was, curtain drawn closed. You really had to tell Tobirama to keep that open if you now started to become afraid of darkness so much. Then again, that might lead to more questions. Questions you didn’t want to answer. For now, the pain in your whole body was a dull echo, but you knew that’d change drastically again when you moved. No matter. You had to. The world was closing in around you and and your heart was hammering against your ribs so harshly you thought it might jump out.

Yelping past clenched teeth you dragged your haggard form to the window again, staggering through the darkness, not even bothering with the nightstand lamp this time. You didn’t need to. You whimpered deplorably from the aches that now flared through all of you, echoes of the torment that stabbed and burned.

You still felt so weak. It was dumb to think you had recovered much already - and without your own chakra, no less - but still. You absolutely detested this weakness.

This helplessness.

You grasped the curtain for support as much as you had to to pull it open. You had to fumble for it with a shaking hand, the other grasped the window sill below.

“J-j-just o-open…��, you stuttered as you ripped aimlessly at it.

Your breaths were coming so fast now your sight was blackening, your limbs feeling fuzzy. The panic was driving tears into your eyes and wrenching sobs from you.

Was this how you’d start every day, now?

Bright sunlight flooded the room finally. Instantly, both your hands clung to the sill then for support while you doused in the sight of the village. The very obvious signals your body was giving you to rest again were ignored in favour of relishing in this moment.

Safe. You were safe.

You sniffled as the tears dried down and the fright ebbed down. Somewhat. You wanted to stay like this longer, but you knew you really shouldn’t. Besides, the more you calmed, the more unbearable the pain became in all of you. Plus, if Tobirama caught you now, he’d be livid. He hated repeating himself. It wasn’t as though he was wrong, anyway.

You opted for sitting on the bed again and looking out of the window from there. A small comfort.

“Okay,” you murmured to yourself in preparation of the way back. With a deep breath you let go of the window sill and turned around.

A moment later your shaky foothold tipped, the ankle twisted - and with an agonised yelp that nearly had been a loud scream, you fell to the floor. Instinctively you broke the fall correctly, your training ensured that. Even in this deplorable state.

But the pain was searing. It damn near was equal to the torment - or at least it felt like that. You curled into a fetal position on yourself as your mouth was open in a silent scream.

You didn’t want anyone to get in now.

Tears were flowing freely over your cheeks. You kept silent. Silence had been a lesson well-practiced - though of course the Stone shinobi had made you scream so much your voice still was hoarse, that had been after a lot of silence.

You’d endure this, too.

Even so, lying on the cold floor - it felt just like after all the times they’d tortured you and then shoved you back into that dark pit. Helplessly on the ground with the agony fresh on your mind and weakened by the leash, by all the misery you were in. Unable to move from sheer pain alone, really-

Your chest was closing in again.

The room was becoming darker.

No, no, no. Not now. It’d be fine eventually - right? Wait, what if it wasn’t? Shit, where did that come from now? You mustn’t think like that. But here you were. Alone. On a cold floor. In pain- Bleeding?

No- You were sure if you opened your eyes now, they’d open to nothing but darkness. “N-no…”, you whimpered miserably, your arms covering your face as you curled up even tighter.

Cold.

Everything was cold, you are alone - There is nobody here, they’ll come again, and again for you.

…

“What the hell?! ”

You had no idea how long you had been laying there when the familiar, furious voice ripped through your consciousness like a horn’s blow. The world was slowing down again. You suddenly became aware of the fact you had been wheezing erratically. Trembling. The tears - an odd tear would run over your cheek. But you had stilled perfectly. You heard fast steps approaching. You tensed.

They stopped in front of you. Clothes rustled.

“Y/n?” - the voice was different now - panicked. Softer.

Slowly, you opened your eyes to see Tobirama’s black clothes in front of you. He was crouching. His hand was on your shoulder, you realised. A warm touch.

Your breathing levelled out.

You were safe.

You had just fallen down. Silly.

“I fell,” you admitted defeatedly, your gaze seeking his face hesitantly. This was embarrassing enough as it was, but Tobirama - he looked perfectly anguished himself. His scarlet eyes mustered you up and down, there was urgency in his expression. You sighed and began to heave your chest off the ground with your arms, ignoring the pain again.

“You shouldn’t have-,” he began in a scolding tone, but the moment you moved, it became stern. ”No, don’t do that.” The worry was mellowing it down still.

His arm snuck around your shoulder to heft you up from the floor. You became utterly stiff from the pain that shot through you as you were moved, but you uttered no more than a hiss past your clenched teeth. Your arm moved to rest around his waist for support, but the way you fisted the fabric of his black shirt was telltale, nonetheless.

Which Tobirama picked up on easily. “Just one step,” he muttered tersely. Frankly with the force he put in his grip he might as well carry you, but you appreciated the fact he granted you this shred of dignity. You took the step as gracefully as possible, which was simple given how Tobirama shouldered near all of your weight. You whimpered as you sat down the ankle you had fallen over on the floor.

“Easy,” Tobirama supplied immediately, holding you closer, his free hand securing your waist tightly.

His arm released you only momentarily as you leaned forward to spin and sit on the bed, but his palm lingered on your shoulder the whole time. He grasped your legs gingerly to help swing them into bed again when you turned to lie down.

You stared up at the ceiling once you had pulled the blanket over you. The trembles had ceased; your breathing was normal again.

You were safe.

Tobirama didn’t waste time, either. “What have you been doing?”, his tone was as strict as it was accusing. The mellowing worry had turned down a notch now that you were in bed again it seems.

You felt bold when you turned your gaze to meet his again. He was frowning, the scarlet eyes were ablaze. “I did say you could knock next time,” you answered in a small voice.

The answer was prompt. “So you’d have time to get back into bed, you mean?”, strict was becoming angered rapidly.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’d have made that in time.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest, the face scrunched in a frown and the eyelids narrowed to slits. No, he was pissed off. You sighed.

Your scathing comment didn’t even make him bat an eyelash. “Yn/!” If anything, the quip had angered him more, if that outburst was anything to go by. “You must rest,” he began sternly. “Most likely that stunt has ripped at your healing wounds and inflicted damage - setting you back. Not to mention you need to recover more strength first.” He extended a hand as he argued, frustration leaking into his voice.

“I know, Tobirama,” you snapped back. Both of your aching arms rose to your face to cover it. “I am painfully aware.”

He fell silent for a moment, the comment earned you a low huff from him. “So then why do I see you anywhere but your bed whenever I come around?”, again, his tone was unfazed. More stern, in fact. You knew your comments were riling him up.

Because I feel like I’m suffocating when I’m alone in the dark and that fucking window is the only thing that convinces me I’m free.

“I’m going a little crazy here,” you supplied, figuring that wasn’t even a lie. “I’m either drugged, becoming delirious or flat out in pain, as you know.” That much definitely wasn’t a lie.

It made Tobirama balk a little. Peeking past your hands you saw his shoulders droop, his arms at his side now. Weird. You had expected something along the lines of ‘it’ll be over soon’ or ‘pull yourself together’ - not in an ignorant or diminutive way, but rather something to remind you this was temporary. That all you had to do was be stronger for a little while. Tobirama wasn’t great at comfort to begin with, so he’d stick with the logical aspects of the situation, naturally.

“Tobirama?”, you inquired then, when he didn’t speak up again.

“I know,” he then answered, the anger fading somewhat. His mien remained firm, but he took a seat on the edge of your bed now to level out the height difference somewhat. Because that hadn’t escaped your notice either. “It is a difficult situation, but you must rest. I don’t want you going on walks now. At all.” His gaze lifted up to your eyes again - the frown still present.

Your hands dropped to your side again. Now was your turn to avoid his gaze. “I just wanted to pull the curtains back, Tobirama,” you explained in a quiet voice, your ironic undertone vanished. “I had to look outside.”

You heard him take a sharp breath and then - “Y/n, you mustn’t-”, then he abruptly paused. For a few moments, the room was completely silent. "Is… that why you were crying?", he asked suddenly, his voice dropping the strictness, completely soft again.

You didn’t answer him, but you closed your eyes. You had to, they were becoming wet again.

“Y/n…”, Tobirama whispered brokenly, his hand reaching for yours at his side. His grip was tight, his thumb ran smoothing circles over your skin. You exhaled a little gasp when you felt his chakra graze over your network in the way you were so familiar with, so warm and welcome.

“I’ll try not to get up again,” you murmured after a moment of quiet comfort. “Maybe just leave the curtain open.” You sighed. It wasn’t as though you didn’t understand his objections to you moving around - your ankle was testament to that - but the panic was just so much worse.

Tobirama didn’t reply to that directly but simply kept caressing you both outwardly and inwardly. “Alright.” He finally spoke. “Perhaps… I can try to be here earlier, too.”

You opened your eyes again to find his gaze was cast down at your body again, his eyebrows furrowed in worry again. You never had seen Tobirama in this much distress since these last few days. “You don’t have to. You’re busy,” your voice was becoming more somber again.

“We talked about that already.” Back to the firm tone, shutting the discussion down, it seems. Tobirama hated discussing in the first place, and with your time basically dictated by a vile drug that he had to administer regularly there wasn’t even much arguing ground on your behalf. You rolled your eyes.

His hand released yours and was pushing the blanket aside then, “I’ll see what I can do for you now,” he mumbled, then, already focused as he turned himself to face your side more.

You gave a low sigh. “I’d say save your concentration and chakra, but-”

Tobirama’s voice instantly was terse again. “Y/n.”

You rolled your eyes. “Exactly.” You resigned and helped by pulling up the gown somewhat as he placed both palms on your abdomen again. You felt his chakra’s presence intensify as he began and couldn’t help but gaze at his face while he first examined you and then went to heal - his eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration. Over time, that became more dismayed. Of course.

Much like the last time, the procedure took its pretty time simply for how intricate the work was - how little chakra he could actually use in terms of overloading you still, and when he did, he’d have to put it to its best use. The thoroughly comfortable feeling was settling in soon however as the aches dulled and you began to relax under his treatment. You’d never deny this wasn’t good, no. Especially when he directed his attention to your ankle, the sensation was warming, itchy almost in how the joint began to ache less in tune with the healing warmth swirling inside of it.

After quite a while he retreated with a finishing brush over your network, which you let warmly hum in response. As much as you could, anyway. It’d never not feel alien to you how your chakra was there - inside you - and yet not ready at your disposal. When Tobirama drew his hands back, his face remained scrunched up.

“As I said,” and here he was again, scolding, naturally. “There was quite some damage to your wounds. And you sprained your ankle.” He crossed his legs and rested both arms on the edge of the bed. “I’ve repaired quite a lot of it. Y/n, you’re barely-”

You wanted to prop your head up your palm and rest on your side, but you were positive he’d yell at you. You opted for quipping again. “-healed and need to rest.”

His frown deepened. “I can also just physically stitch you up if the sight of those ripping serves as a better reminder for you. Because that’s what you’re doing, internally.”

Ouch. He fought back. “No, thank you.” You deflated and sighed. “I’m trying.”

That served to mellow him down significantly again and his shoulders slumped somewhat. He didn’t speak up again though, but his gaze had fallen to the floor, seemingly lost in ponder.

You simply eyed him for a moment before you tilted your head slightly. “Well, I ruined the mood, didn’t I?”, you attempted a little laugh, but Tobirama could only shrug his shoulders in what you think might’ve been an ironic motion. You frowned. “What’s wrong, Tobirama?”

His gaze lifted to gaze at you from the side, cautiously now. It didn’t sit well with you. “Just stay in bed, Y/n.”

You arched up an eyebrow. That was not what truly had been on his mind now. The lack of sternness in his voice proved that. “I know I should,” you began, “but that is not what is on your mind.” His nostrils flared slightly. “Tell me, Tobirama. Is everything getting too much for you? You don’t need to take care of me, too. That’s why I am here.” It still baffled you how much he did in the first place, yet-

“No,” he firmly cut you short. His arms crossed in front of his chest as he slightly leaned back. “I’m fine taking care of you and researching this leash.” You believed that much with how much conviction he spoke it.

“Then what is it, Tobirama?”, you demanded now. “Because I have the fleeting notion it’s to do with me.” And you didn’t like that at all.

He closed his eyes and sighed. “It’ll be fine, Y/n. Don’t worry about that. Just rest and get better.”

Anger started to flare in you. To be bedridden and get basically yelled at for drawing curtains back was one thing. But to actively be kept in the dark was another one. However you’d still try reason first before you went to demanding things because open confrontation only got you so far. “I’m injured, Tobirama. Not mentally capacitated. You might as well tell me, because I caught on the fact something is weighing on you and at the very least I’ll now worry as to why that is. Even if you tell me not to. So, please.”

Tobirama straightened and squared his shoulders a little. "Honestly, the only thing you have to worry about is your own recovery." He was getting more terse again.

You were onto something. You narrowed your eyes. "Fine. Don't tell me. I'll just get up after, scream until someone gets around and demand to speak to Hashirama." You had every intention of going through with that. You'd have to be fast though - weakness would settle in soon.

Tobirama clenched his teeth, his head whipped around to you to stare at you downright menacingly. "You will do no such thing."

"I absolutely will, unless you tell me."

Tobirama’s eyes closed slowly. He shifted back to his original position. When he opened them again, his scarlet pupils darted to the side to pin you with an intense stare, his mien was grave now. Your pulse picked up. Instinctively you braced yourself by heaving your chest up with both your elbows. Thanks to his recent treatment, the pain was dull, for now. Tobirama didn’t even protest when you moved. It just served to make you more tense.

“Creating more of the leash is proving to be a difficult task I’ve not yet accomplished,” he finally churned out, slowly, against his will, almost.

You gulped. Wait. That meant- “How much is left?”, you asked before you could even comprehend what you just said.

Tobirama closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. He didn’t want to tell you. You weren’t sure if you wanted to know anymore. “Five and a half days at our current rate.”

Around you, the world seemed to lurch like when he teleported you with the hiraishin seal. Your ears felt stuffy, your vision became a tunnel focusing on the face of your beloved and yet gazing right through him as darkness threatened. You felt numb.

Five and a half days.

Right now, you had five and a half days left to live.

And you wouldn’t pass peacefully, that much you had experienced before.

Your elbows gave out as you limply crashed back into the bed, staring up at the ceiling. Breathing was becoming harder as the figurative weight of the news was bearing down on your chest. Before you knew it, you were wheezing again. Ugly sobs were breaking past your lips and a wet sensation rolled down the sides of your face. Tears, you realised.

Faintly you realised Tobirama shifted. A hand took yours in it firmly, another on your shoulder. He was talking, but you didn’t hear anything. Not right away, anyhow. It was only when you felt his chakra again that you became more grounded again, but even then, it still was hard not to burst all over again.

“Y/n,” he pleaded, over and over again. Your blurry vision shifted to focus on his face, closer to yours now. It looked as agonized as you felt. There was a tremble in his deep voice. Your breathing levelled out slowly. Your free hand slowly reached for the one he had put on your shoulder as you sought his gaze again.

“Tell me more,” you urged, gulping.

“I’m not sure if-”, he hesitated.

“I want to know everything, dammit!”, you almost shouted.

Tobirama’s eyes closed, he winced as though you had physically slapped him.

And then proceeded to tell you - everything. What this leash was - besides what you knew it did to you - what he knew so far. The problem he faced. Instantly, you realised the task he faced was not just ‘difficult’. It was near impossible to achieve in such a short timespan.

“I’m doing all I can, I swear,” he finished, and the sincerity of the statement had the timbre of his voice shaking. His scarlet eyes were glistening - the hand you put on his on your shoulder reached for his face. No, you’d never question his resolve to save you. Neither his determination to keep you from any harm - his secrecy had just been another facet of that.

An eerie calm gripped you.

“I know,” you whispered, stoic. A sad smile stretched your lips. “If there’s anyone in Konoha who can figure it out, it’s you.” You believed that with every fiber of your being.

Tobirama frowned, tilting his head slightly. His breath shook.

“You need more time,” you added, your thumb caressing his cheekbone.

“There isn’t any, Y/n,” he answered, broken.

“Not if we proceed like this,” you agreed, somber. You couldn’t believe your next words, but here you were. You knew exactly what you needed to do - duty, if you will, albeit calling it that was odd considering it was your own survival that was on the line. Still. You were the one making the sacrifice.

“You start giving me what you have of the leash at the greatest possible interval.”

Tobirama’s face fell completely, the words hitting him almost like you had slapped his cheek.

“What?!”

#tobirama #tobirama senju #tobirama x reader #tobirama senju x reader #sekhmet writes

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fandomfluffandfuck · 3 years

Note

The stucky fluff was so so so so so cuteeeeee can we get an evanstan continuation if you have it? I love your writing sm💖

Yes! Of course you can have a continuation on evanstan's behalf! Thank you so much!

That stucky fluff ask fill can be found here although this fluff isn't directly connected to that answer lol

This specific Thought was sparred directly from a very interesting conversation I had with @baseballbatbucky that didn't start off fluffy but got there quickly and bounced between fluffy and sexy because... I don't know. We were both feeling chaotic I guess.

The base idea was Chris having some not so safe for work thoughts about Sebastian's body after CA:CW when he got beefy and Seb is just so sick of working out that he stops cold turkey once they wrap.

But-

He doesn't stop eating like he was when he was working out that hard, hitting the gym like a hammer, and giving it his all. So, naturally he ends up gaining a little weight that slowly takes place of his muscle.

He looses ab definition pretty quick because abs are so fucking hard to get and maintain but he also gets a little curve in his belly, his v-line blurs some, his thighs fill out, his butt rounds out- all that. He looks good, comfortable. And not comfortable as in you've let yourself go, comfortable as in you're not spending your entire day stressing over micronutrients and workouts and doing nothing but eating and lifting heavy shit.

His oral fixation feeds (haha) into it some, having him eat a little mindlessly, as does his comfort with Chris and the security of their relationship. He spends a lot of days relaxed and happy and foregoes the gym for a lazy afternoon in the sun, or a lazy afternoon on Chris' lap, or on his couch, or whatever.

And Chris is fascinated by it, he's floored by it really. Chris' habits feed into it too, his own tactile nature comes into play a lot, he's always touching him - stroking, petting, squeezing - exploring the new shape of his body. He's only ever seen Seb slim and fit and then beefy and fit; he's never know him without any definite ab lines, any extra of his waist, or any fluff on him really at all.

It hits him so hard because it's a sign of comfort. Its a sigh of steadiness- its very hard to put on weight and keep if you're in pain and/or uncomfortable and/or not happy. It hits him square in the chest because more weight means MORE boyfriend to love on. And he loves that.

So, yeah, Chris adores it and shows him that through various ways, however-

Ask for fluff and you'll get slightly suggestive fluff:

Sebastian ends up, once more, going to the Evans' family home for dinner with Chris. He chats with Lisa, with Scott, with them all. All the while Chris has his arm around him, his hand rubbing his hip, his thumb stuck through his belt loop, his lips on his cheek or shoulder for a quick peck, or even with his fingers brushing his lips as he wanders back over after just a second away and encourages him to "Seb! You gotta try this!" feeding him some bite of some sweet or whatnot because as much as he thinks he's subtle with his adorable fascination... he's not.

How could he be? Chris feels big and he feels boldly. He feels too much for it to not show right there next to his big heart on his undersized sleeve.

Sometimes the things Chris hands over to him throughout the night are bite size snacks, sometimes they're straight up pieces of candy, and sometimes they're bottles of beer brewed right outside his big, goofy boyfriend's home town. The point is though, with all those sometimes that he's already approaching full by the time that dinner comes around.

And by the time dinner (which is a fully home cooked, delicious dinner by the way) comes and goes Sebastian is no longer approaching full but is very full.

Full enough that pink cheeked and sheepishly smiling as he shoots a look at Chris next to him, he has to undo his belt about three forths of the way through their cheery, homey meal where everyone is telling stories and laughing and purely merry. Chris only winks.

And then joins him. Undoing his own belt about forty minutes later as Lisa straightens up suddenly and proclaims that it's time for dessert despite no one having gotten up to put their dinner plates away yet. Sebastian is certain that they are the only family that would rather stay sitting around a table to keep talking as opposed to moving to the living room to digest and sleep off their meal. Sebastian is also certain that he won't be able to resist dessert.

Dessert is more alcohol - wine this time - homemade pie, and store bought cheesecake because apparently none of the Evans and cheesecake mix well (Chris promises to tell him the story later).

He eats too much dessert and sips his wine.

Chris also eats too much dessert but he keeps sipping his beer rather than helping with the wine.

They tumble back to Chris' room after dessert, tipsy despite all the food in their systems slowing the alcohols effect. And leaning too hard on each other, belts undone, jingling happily below their full stomachs. Scott's cat-calls follow them down the hall, Chris' giggles and middle finger chase them back.

Walking while attached at the hip, his head on his shoulder while Chris has an arm draped lazily around his waist Seb can feel Chris' belly against his side, it's hard, packed with food under his still intact abs while his own is cushioned with the weight he's put on. Chris can't keep his hands to himself because of that apparently.

"Stooopp!" Seb whines, giggling and half heartedly trying to push Chris away as they finally make it back to his bedroom. He does enjoy Chris' hands petting him (it's probably another reason that Anthony unendingly teases him about being a cat who's in love with a puppy somehow) but he doesn't so much like the tickles that are currently beginning to happen. He's too full for that.

With the door shut behind them (but not locked because even that's not a thing in the Evans' household, there's too much casual trust and respectfullness) Sebastian flops down onto the mattress to get away, not so urgently crawling into the center of it. Mindful of his tummy.

Chris smacks a kiss to his cheek, catching right up to him, "stop what?" He asks trying to tease but getting distracted halfway through as he lies down next to him and realizes how nice the cushion of the mattress is, melting into it and mellowing out.

Sebastian just hums, sinking into the bed too.

Chris' fingers find their way to his jaw and trace down to his softer chest, paving through the center of his chest to his rounded stomach and farther down over the curve, thumbing the hem of his shirt where it has ridden up. He gets tired of messing with it after a few long, syrupy seconds and instead toys with the loose cling of his belt and the tight waist of his jeans, "get enough to eat?" He murmurs, soft.

Sebastian turns to look over at him, too sleepy to even raise an eyebrow, instead sighing, "don't think I've ever eaten so much in my life."

Chris smiles fondly, petting his side before patting him right on the tummy, "what about Thanksgiving? Isn't that the whole point?"

Sebastian stretches into the gentle touch of his fingers, enjoying the heat of his body next to him and his warm palm on top of his belly, "it's- that's more of an American thing. My dad, step-dad, did it but," he's too full and sated to shrug, so hopefully Chris can see it in his eyes. He does so he continues, "he wasn't ever an enthusiast with it anyway and mom didn't really care about trying to fit in, y’know?" Chris nods, his eyes sliding shut slowly, "then, when she found out the true origin of it she just... we had a nice dinner on Thanksgiving but not the full thing, y’know? Not all the purposefull excess."

"Makes sense," Chris whispers, huffing amusedly while rolling over so they're face to face not side to side. "Bet you'll eat more if you come home for Thanksgiving this year though."

Sebastian smiled helplessly at his currently very lazy and well fed knight in shining armor.

Chris smiles right back, eyes soft, fingertips even softer as they trace his skin- still exploring.

Sebastians tummy gurgles under those careful, gentle fingertips. His cheeks flush but before he can do anything about it or apologize or shy away Chris' own does the same. Sebastian curls into his man more, figuring their even so who cares. Pushing his nose into Chris' neck Seb giggles his tipsy-ness making his impulsive thought funnier than it should be, "it's like they're talking to each other."

Chris laughs, making a snort of air rush past his temple, "oh my god." He pinches some of the extra fluff on his hip and Sebastian pouts but doesn't feel like squirming away, Chris is warm and radiant and that slice of pie on top of his slice of cheesecake on top of his dinner is starting to hit, slowing him down. Chris complains half heartedly, his laughter gaining even more speed, "nooo, Seb, you can't make me laugh. I might hurl."

Sebastian laughs with him, clutching his stomach too. Trying to tame his own giggles and tamping it down with an all too earnest, "you can't though."

"Why not?" Chris grins, voice wobbling on the edge of laughter still.

"'Cause if you have to throw up that means you'd have to get up." He brushes a kiss to his pulse point, "and I don't want you to go anywhere."

Chris' smile gets impossibly sweeter, "right." His cheeks are red, he's impossibly cute, he drums his fingers over his thicker thigh. His voice dips to a nearly inaudible level, "I see. I guess that settles it then, doesn't it?"

"It does," he agrees.

His fingers tighten on his thigh and Sebastian doesn't mind for a second how he can feel the extra little bit of weight giving way under his fingertips. He feels nothing but beautiful and treasured with Chris.

#my writing #asks #evanstan #chris evans #sebastian stan #real person fanfiction #rpf #woah that got long lmao #sorry about that #but i hope you enjoyed

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wolf-555-writer · 4 years

Text

Better Off Alone - PART 3

Well... I seem to very much suck at updating regularly. I’ll try to better my life haha. Here’s another part for ya :)).

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: After the Battle of New York, now an Avenger, Natasha still has her other job as a SHIELD agent and needs to go on regular assignments. Very capable of, and usually also doing everything on her own. But not this time.

Word Count: 2,252

Days have gone by.

Days of silence, not having caught even the slightest glimpse of Agent Romanoff since your outburst in the closet. Which is kind of... odd, considering what you did.

I suppose it wasn't of that much value. Else they surely would’ve noticed by now, right?

So it is deemed ‘The mysterious closet case’ for the time being.

Well, you got hit on the head pretty hard, so that’s probably the reason for that name...

Anyways, there’s also still the case of the mysterious mission. It's strange. But it's SHIELD, so what's new? Although, you can't seem to let it go.

Lucky for you, you’ve had more than enough time to think, contemplate, reflect, conspire, and whatnot about it. Because you needed to take it easy. Rest up. Recover and gain strength again. It was quite the blow you received to the head, no surprise it turned out to be a mild concussion, so the doctor said.

Or in other words, you’re not cleared for field work yet.

But the advice to clear your mind hasn’t really worked out all the same. Why can’t you just let it go? It isn’t even your problem to begin with, so why does it bother you so much?

Surrounded by traffic-packed streets, sidewalks crowded with people and massive concrete buildings, you’re casually strolling on the pavement in the middle of the city to get some ‘fresh’ air into your lungs. Going for a nice cup of steaming hot coffee? Why not, you’ve got the time now. The bruises your body is covered with are nicely beginning to heal and you’re almost back to your normal walking pattern.

Stopping in your tracks as a little kid crosses the path right in front of you out of nowhere. You follow the kid with your eyes while resuming the course somewhat disturbed. That caught you off guard for a second. You shouldn’t be so jumpy all the time. Relax, there’s nothing to worry about.

Suddenly you reach for your neck with your right hand as a reflex. Ouch, you felt a sharp sting. Guess some muscles are still sore. The older you get, the longer it takes to heal.

Damn, does that make you feel old.

You watch the street and continue walking. That red BMW parked across the road slowly becomes blurry. Why can’t your eyes focus on that? Your body starts to feel weak. Legs begin to shake and eventually become unstable. You find a lamppost nearby and lean against it for support.

Inhale,

exhale,

and repeat

What.. is happening.. to me..?

You were desperately fighting against it, but simply cannot anymore. The cold metal of the lamppost disappears from touch as it slips away and all strength leaves your body.

You collapse.

Expecting to hit the not-so-comfortable concrete, yet you fall into the arms of a person instead. Thank god, I already have enough bruises. You’re gently being moved to the side of the pavement. Then dragged towards a dark coloured vehicle parked against the curb. That’s all you can make out in your current state anyway. Vaguely hearing the person say something in a friendly tone, probably to calm down the worried bystanders that have neatly gathered around you in a semicircle.

Wait… Hold on. Is this person helping you?

The car’s rear door closes with a dull bang. Helplessly lying on the back seat, you sense the vehicle moving. And there’s absolutely nothing you can do to stop it. A black hood is pulled over your head, but it has already become dark before your eyes.

It’s still dark as you’ve regained consciousness a couple of minutes ago. It wasn’t a sore neck. Not so old after all eh, you think satisfied. But that thought quickly fades. Perhaps you would’ve rather wanted an aching muscle.

The alternative, you were injected with a drug and taken… somewhere, wherever that might be. The musty hood prevents your sight and obstructs your normal breathing, mostly because the hood smells so bad. Like something died in there. Better not think too long about it…

Not having the slightest clue how long you’ve been out and why your wrists are rigidly tied behind your back in a way that describes the intentions of your capturer clearly. That said, who has captured you?

At that exact thought you hear a pair of footsteps approaching. A slow, relaxed pace, and you immediately sit more upright, squaring your shoulders.

A cocky voice speaks.

“So nice of you to join us after all”. As a reaction to the person who just spoke, you let out a scoff. “Should have guessed it was you”.

The stuffy bag is pulled off and the sudden exposure to light makes you shut your eyes promptly. But not before you could make out the silhouette of the woman who gave you your vision back. Not that it matters, because you recognized her voice earlier.

“You can’t do this”, you strongly urge, only a tad angry and annoyed. “Let me go! Now”. With raised eyebrows you look at the SHIELD agent who has her arms crossed and is staring at you with a deadly smirk.

“Come on, is this really necessary?”, you question after receiving nothing back.

Natasha grins, “Ask him”, and nudges with her head to your left.

Footsteps of heavy boots echo off the dirty walls and a tall man with an eyepatch comes into view.

“Agent Romanoff was so kind to tell me what you know”, he says with a low-pitched voice. “You need to understand, that worries me”.

He’s standing directly underneath one of two small industrial light beams, casting a scary shadowy glare over him. With no windows here these are the only sources illuminating this grim, bricked up place. You might as well be underground.

No telling if it’s day or night

No cell reception

No one able to hear you scream for help when you're being ‘questioned’…

A shiver runs down your spine, and not because of the cold temperature. Okay, guess the confrontation in the closet wasn't such a good idea. Not that you already assumed that, considering the way you were brought here and the obvious fact that you’re currently constrained.

“You might be wondering why we took these, some say... extreme measures to bring you here”. The Director is slowly walking back and forth in front of you. Despite his half-question, you decide to remain silent. Yes, probably the best.

He abruptly stops and a cold expression appears on his features. More cold than it was before. “You have something that belongs to me”, he accuses, his face awkwardly close, sensing his warm breath on your skin. But you don't move a muscle. You have to make it clear who has the upper hand here.

“Do I?”, you answer ignorantly, “and does it belong to you?”.

He grins. But not out of amusement. He moves back again, thankfully, and reveals, “I don’t like traitors inside my agency”, his piercing gaze still fixed on you, “and I've had my eye on you for quite some time now”.

“Which one?”, you joke. Seeing Romanoff in your peripheral vision facepalm and shake her head. What an idiot, she thinks.

You scrape your throat.

Not making it better for yourself here, (Y/N)

A heavy sigh, followed by a disappointing pinch with his thumb and index finger on the bridge of his nose. Fury has his eyes(?) closed for a couple of seconds and resumes. “Where was I? Right, the missing item. I don't like it when my agents are keeping things from me. So you see, it’s a damn serious matter, no time for jokes”.

You carefully nod in agreement.

“Tell me, Agent (Y/L/N), where are the contents of the black case you took from the compound?”, Fury asks with a demanding threat in his features.

“In the black case I delivered at the briefing 5 days ago. Ask Agent Romanoff, she was there”.

Leaning against a rusted metal table with her arms crossed, out of pure enjoyment you assume, Natasha comments, “How convenient that nobody opened the case during the debrief, wasn't it?”

“Don't play me for a fool”, Fury states. “You damn well know it didn't contain cans of beans when you retrieved it”.

“Oh”, you respond surprised, “cans of beans you say huh. What kind of beans? I don't really like those brown ones you know”.

“I've had enough of this”, Romanoff huffs and takes a more active pose.

This agent is starting to drive me crazy

She rushes towards the SHIELD operative who seems to be having fun.

Well, not anymore.

Going through a wide variety of options to make the talkative agent a little more cooperative, she dashes towards (Y/L/N). Only requirement is that the ‘level 5′ stays conscious. But pain? A fierce strike on the bridge of the nose it is. She loads up, brings her left hand to her chin and balls it into an iron fist. That will teach a lesson for sure.

Bracing yourself for the impact of a fist, kick or whatever hurts most, but nothing seems to forcefully collide with your body. Fury’s arm is stretched out, separating you and the redhead, while he shakes his head. Not eager to find out how that would’ve ended otherwise, you swallow the big lump in your throat and listen to the Director again.

“It has come to my attention that there are several agents within SHIELD who have gone rogue”.

With a questionable look you ask, “And you think I'm one of them?”.

Fury immediately starts to laugh. A bit too loud in your opinion.

“You?”, he says between breaths.

“...Yes”.

“I said no time for jokes”, Fury repeats again.

“Yeah, you made it clear now. You can stop laughing”. He is not listening, your words unable to reach the man with eye-patch, and a laugh you never ever expected to hear in person. You slowly begin to feel humiliated.

Like, I'd make a pretty decent ‘bad guy', wouldn't I?

No?

You sigh. Yeah, he's probably right...

“Okay. I did switch the contents of the case”, you admit. Not entertained anymore as Fury’s serious expression resurfaces. You continue, “But only because I wanted to know what’s going on”.

“Those rogue agents, we suspect they are building something. That’s what’s going on”, Fury states. “They are building a weapon. A weapon that will do more harm than good”.

A weapon? What? How? Why? What for? For who? Before you can ask all the questions that are stacking up in your mind caused by this newly received information, the Director has one for you first.

A question you really brought upon yourself.

“Romanoff told me you wanted in”. He looks at Natasha and then at you. “Well, here's your chance. Can you handle th-”

“Just… short pause”, you request only a tiny bit awkward, “Can someone perhaps untie me first?”. Fury visibly freezes for a second, because, well, you did interrupt the man. But then he curtly nods to Romanoff. Without hesitation she steps to the back of the chair, pulls her knife - awfully close to your face - and cuts the constraints in one, smooth movement. Romanoff’s features appear neutral, yet you don’t want to find out what else she can do with that razor sharp tool.

Or... do you?

“Thanks”. You follow Romanoff who’s calmly walking back again and rub your wrists, being free at last. “Look, I think you got the wrong person here-”

“That's what I tried telling him too”, Romanoff adds briskly.

You let out a bitter laugh and bite your lip to refrain from making a comment. The Director ignores her remark and studies you with a squinted eye. “Maybe. But you figured this all out, didn't you?”.

You think hard about this as you avert your gaze from Fury. This is what you wanted, right? Faithfully working your way up, putting in all your devotion, loyalty, effort and time. Hoping to be noticed some day, to get an opportunity to show what you’re worth.

That ‘some’ day seems to be today...

But wait. This particular opportunity. You weren't exactly hoping for something like...

this.

The stakes are sky-high. There’s absolutely no room for error. And working in secret to investigate rogue agents of SHIELD. The agency you are loyal to. Sounds truly great, doesn’t it.

Are you up for this? The secrecy? The pressure? … the team-up? You are just a level 5. Something Agent Romanoff has been very clear on. Perhaps you're not suited to handle this. Not the best choice. Why the hell did you have to be so curious and too stubborn to involve yourself in this!?

Sometimes it’s best to set clear boundaries. To know what you’re capable of and what not. To just back off and let someone else handl-

“Besides, you already know too much”, Fury casually reminds, which snaps you right out of the decision-making-process. “If you say no, I'll have to think about…”, he adds an unnecessary long pause and clicks his tongue, “other actions to take”.

“Hmm, sounds comforting”, you reply as you've turned your head back again to face the Director of SHIELD to deliver your final answer, whether he or Agent Romanoff like it or not. Yet, you lock eyes with Romanoff instead. There's a clear annoyance visible in her green ones, probably because of you. But also,

something else.

Well, this will be fun...

“So”, Fury firmly states,

“Are you in?”

Next part

Tags: @natasha-danvers , @messuhp , @marvelb00kwolf , @nowthisisliving27 , @thelastavenger-3000

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fic #natasha x reader #natasha imagine #black widow #marvel imagine #marvel's runaways #shield #wlw fiction #wlw imagine #fanfiction

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kylo-hen · 3 years

Text

The Milk Man

A/N Hello I wrote this while I was in a Sackler mood yesterday at like 4 am and its the first actual smut I’ve written so bare with me! There is quite a bit of build up because for some reason I love establishing characters. It’s also vaguely plus sized!reader but not strictly! Anyways, hope you enjoy & my inbox is always open for requests/feedback.

Adam Sackler x Reader

Summary: You run into an intense man in the dairy section in the dairy isle one Saturday Morning, and by Saturday Night he’s in your bed.

Warnings: SMUT! Spanking, name calling, Oral (F receiving), hair pulling, longer build up, and oat milk.

Living in New York has its odd challenges here and there. There aren’t dishwashers in unit, rent is the price of one’s soul, people were colder, and grocery shopping was a drag. This Saturday morning was supposed to be relaxing, no work, no designs, no awkward booty calls from dudes I met in the club a moth ago looking for some action. It was all looking up until I looked in my fridge and remembered the Wednesday ritual was pushed back because of a meeting.

With a groan I resigned myself to the reality that I would have to do some chores before I could allow myself the relaxing pamper day I deserved. Once I was out of my apartment, down a couple blocks, and at the grocery store I was relieved to know that on a Saturday morning it was pretty empty. Only a couple people that really just ignored each other as they passed in the cereal isle or the small produce section.

It was an overall normal trip until I made it to the dairy section. There in front of the large selection of milk stood, what I could only describe as, a smoldering giant hunched over a comedically small phone.

Usually in this kind of situation I would let them be, but he just happened to be in front of the only brand of Oat Milk I actually like, so it seemed like I would have to wait it out. This dude, however, was not one to mind social cues. After what felt like five minutes of awkwardly waiting off to the side for this dude to get the message and move on from the last bit of the store I needed before I could get on with my day, I decided he wouldn’t move without a nudge.

“Ehm,” I cleared my throat softly, hoping that would alert him to my presence, “Excuse me.” The man barely grunted, acknowledging I was there but continuing to frustratedly channel into whatever he was doing on his phone. “Excuse me?” I said louder, hoping to get a civil response.

“What the fuck do you want?” He finally snapped at me, actually turning to look at me. That was also the first time I was able to see him fully. The man was hot, I’ll give him that much. His tall frame matched by solid muscle, a tasteful amount of facial hair that suited the intense features, and now a scowl. A scowl that was presently pointed in my direction while I ogled at him. “What the fuck do you want?” he demanded again; this time much harsher. I took a step back, not really expecting this full-bodied giant to be yelling at me on a Saturday morning in the grocery.

“Fuck,” I muttered to myself trying to dip into some of my confidence I gained in the years living here and finding it much harder to let his anger flow off my skin as it usually does. “I’m- fuck- I just need some of the oat milk and you-“ I rambled on but stopped at the sound of a deep sigh from the man in front of me. “I’m sorry, I’ll just-“ I abruptly turned, figuring the milk wasn’t even worth it anymore. The experience spoiled any hopes for a peaceful day, and the faster I made it back to my apartment the faster I could wallow in the new mood crashing over me.

“Wait, shit!” I heard from behind me before I felt two large hands brace my shoulders. One thing the man didn’t expect was for my self defense lessons to kick in the second he grabbed me. I swung my elbow into his stomach, well because of his height it ended up being more of an elbow to the man’s balls. As I turned and backed away from him, I noticed in his hands he had the milk I was looking at earlier. Shit fuck fucking shit fuck! He was trying to give me the fucking milk!

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry fuck, shit!” I moved to help him stand up, his face beet red a twisted up as he processed the pain, I unintentionally put him in.

“Fuuuck,” he groaned out while he took some deep breathes, “I, fuck you’re a good shot… I just wanted to give you the fuckin’ milk.” He muttered out, still mostly bent over. Guilt washed over me in waves. I just attacked the poor guy trying to give me milk, even if he yelled at me earlier. Fuck, I can’t believe I just did that. My body heated up in shame, burning from the inside out, hoping that I could just melt within my own skin. The day only getting worse by the minute, I prayed that I would get to my apartment in peace so I wouldn’t cause any more damage.

“I’m so fucking sorry,” I said again, not being able to emphasize it enough, as he began to recover more and more, and stand taller but not his full height, “Thank you for the milk.” I said still feeling the dark pungent shame in my chest. As he stood up more and more, he handed me the milk.

“Don’t-“ he breathed sharply, still regaining his footing after being in pain, “Don’t apologize kid.” He muttered the name out at me and I wondered how old he was suddenly, or how young I looked trembling in the middle of the grocery store. “I was a dick.” He breathed and straightened fully, towering over me.

“No, no, “ I denied his apology, shocked that he wasn’t pissed anymore, “I shouldn’t just go around attacking people, you didn’t deserve that.” I took the milk that I realized he was trying to give me still.

“Nah, don’t sweat it kid,” again with the fucking nickname, oddly enough it lit a fire in me somewhere I hadn’t felt in years. “I should’ve known better than to just grab a lady.” He smiled at me, chuckling at his own joke and I smiled with him. His moods sending me for a bit of a loop, but it wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle myself.

“I still feel bad,” I admitted to him, he tilted his head curiously, “could I get you a cup of coffee or something?” I offered, hoping that he wouldn’t be too offended by the offer. Something about this man was drawing me in, his effect leaving me wanting more and more. What the hell is going on with me today?

“Oh, I don’t drink coffee.” He stated, rejecting me bluntly and with that statement. The shame bubbled hire a fire burning in my cheeks whether he can see it or not I was embarrassed. Another time I put myself out there, thinking I read a situation one way, and it going very differently. My eyes suddenly very interested at the floor rather than the attractive man before me. “Shit,” he muttered to himself, “Not, I don’t drink coffee but maybe we could get lunch or some shit?” he offered with a cocky smile.

My eyes snapped up to meet his, a warm feeling that for once wasn’t shame flooded my veins, I smiled at him in return, “Yeah we can get lunch and shit.” I replied easily, proud of myself for regaining some of that confidence I usually held. But then I remembered where we were, and that I had a cart full of groceries I needed to get home, it seemed he was coming down in the same way. “Actually…” I trailed off, not knowing his name.

“Adam.” He answered and shook the milk carton playfully in lou of my hand, “Adam Sackler.” His crooked teeth poking out through his smile making my heart pound faster in my chest.

“Adam,” I hummed, testing out the way his name felt on my lips. It felt like they were always meant to say his name. “Since you don’t drink coffee, which seems sac religious to me,” I allowed myself to flirt with him, testing the water, “And I’ve got a shit ton of groceries to put away, what about dinner tonight?” I asked.

He laughed, unabashedly checking me out, my chest tightened hoping he liked what he saw, “Fuck yeah, dinner sounds great.” He replied confidently, boosting my confidence.

“Alright Sackler, it’s a date.”

After exchanging numbers, into his comically outdated flip phone, we decided to meet at the grocery store before dinner. I rushed home to clean my apartment, a girl can be hopeful, and get ready for any outcome of the date. It had been months since any person had given me any romantic indication, dating apps had long since run dry and I was tired of having to explain my size to people before they met me. Rarely after meeting someone, in real life, had they shown as much interest that Adam has shown me in the last hour. That meant I was hopeful and hope was a dangerous game for a girl like me.

By the time it came to meet up with Adam I was a nervous wreck. My brain kept trying to convince me of the worst-case scenarios as I made the walk to meet up with him. All of those thoughts seemed to fade to black when I saw him. He was dressed casually, as I was as well, in a pair of dark wash jeans and a white t-shirt. He smiled when he saw me approaching, he perked up from where he was leaning and met me halfway.

“Sorry if I’m late, there was a man trying to save the turtles outside my apartment and I’ve already out run him twice so he’s out for blood.” I joked when he was finally close enough to me. He laughed at my ice breaker, and I thanked all the powers at play that he had a sense of humor, he was shaping up to be quite a catch as long as his mood stayed up.

“Don’t sweat it kid, I got here early anyways. Fuckin’ in my bones at this point with acting and shit.” He grumbled the last bit as he flailed his arms about. An actor? I’d never actually been on a date with an actor before, I mean with there being globs of them in the city for Broadway and whatnot. I always assumed they were stuck up about looks, and if anyone could be Adam was definitely a hot enough actor to be picky.

“You’re an actor?” I asked coyly, hopefully digging deeper into the mysterious moody man. “Yeah, also do some other shit.” He answered vaguely which only drew me in deeper to the mystery of this man. Who the fuck is he? And why the fuck is he so hot? “I know this diner just a couple blocks that way, does that sound good?” He asked considerately, and in that moment, I swear I could marry him.

“Fuck yeah, I know exactly what you’re talking about, Lou’s is a fucking gem.” He responded with a grin, wide and unabashed, that made my heart flutter. But even when I made my way that direction, he kept his gaze on me, not in a creepy way but in a refreshing way. He acted like if he didn’t take all of me in now, that I would disappear forever, or that I would have been a figment of his mind. When I looked back at him a moment of sadness crossed his features, maybe it wasn’t sadness, maybe it was fear. He looked so young for just a split second, and I saw him, I really saw him.

So instead of saying anything I simply reached out and offered my hand, and he grabbed it. With that we began walking back in the direction of my apartment on the way to the diner, and throughout the walk we talked about meaningless things like the mean lady that lives in his building to his morning run routine. I kept it light, trying to stay away from sticky topics before we sat down, but I also wanted to actually know who I was going out with.

Once we were seated, the games began. Adam and I ordered before we got into a grittier subject matter but instead of just asking, Adam wanted to make it more fun. So, like middle school girls at a sleepover, Adam suggested we play truth or dare.

“Truth.” I stated with no hesitation, what could he even dare me to do right now? It’s not like anything juicy could happen while we were in public.

“Oh, come on, you scared of what I could dare you to do?” He taunted at me, still flashing his signature crooked grin.

“I’m giving you an opportunity to ask me whatever you want Sackler, use it wisely.” I goaded him testing his waters, watching his reaction to see if he was game. His eyes trailed down to my shirt. Bingo, he’s interested.

“Alright Kid, when was the last time you got laid?” He went straight out of the gate with a sexual question. The longer I spend with him the more apparent it becomes that Sackler might be a little sexually deviant, that thought only escalated the fire burning in my belly.

“It’s been about six months since I got laid,” I started, “But about a year since I actually, let’s say, enjoyed getting laid.” I clarified, feeding into the building sexual tension.

“Hmm, that’s a crime,” he responded, trailing his eyes over every part of me visible across the booth, “They should be punished for leaving a woman like you unsatisfied.” He murmured, leaning forward tracing a finger along one of my hands placed on the table. Every light touch, even if it looked innocent, felt dirty and drenched in the want I had for this man.

“Truth or dare Sackler?” I angled my torso to him so he could see down my shirt, I could see his reaction, his eyes start to glaze over, his mouth open, ready. I had never been with a man so openly affected by me and at every move I took the opportunity to tease him.

“Fuck, Truth.” He said, not really paying attention to what he responded with but more paying attention to the parts of myself I was revealing to him.

“What do you think of me Adam?” I asked softly, some could even say sensually, as I retracted my hand and my body, ripping away the points of contact that he was latching to physically and visually. He suddenly retreated his stance as well, looking me in the eyes to see a knowing smile already dancing across my features. He groaned playfully, knowing he played right into my hands.

“Fuck, kid, what do I think of you?” He asked redundantly, “For starters I think you’re the biggest fucking tease and if we weren’t in public right now, I’d put you over my knee and punish you.” He began, speaking in a low threatening tone. Every word, every syllable, every fucking letter sent a shockwave to my core, shaking my resolve and tumbling every other instinct down. I let a soft delicate whimper, only loud enough for him to hear, pass my lips as I closed my eyes and leaned my head back to take in what else he was saying. “You’re a tease, but you’re also fuckin’ gorgeous.” I snapped my head open, not expecting a real genuine compliment from the sexual haze we were in.

“What?” it slipped out of my lips before I could really do anything about it.

“Kid,” he began, by putting his hand on top of mine and staring so far into my soul I felt like I was naked in front of him, “You’re so fucking beautiful, like I- I saw you this morning and fuck I think you might actually be perfect and fuck! Like even if you’re not, you’re better than that.” He said and I couldn’t remember the last time I had ever felt like this, maybe never. He was so different, and intense, but funny, and God I want to sleep with this man, but I also want to cook dinner with him and see how he likes his eggs, or what his favorite book is, and who hurt him. I want him, and he wants me.

“Thank you,” I began, getting a bit shyer under the smoldering chestnut eyes, “I don’t think anyone has ever called me gorgeous before, or if they have, I can’t remember.” I explained, trying to brush it off as a joke, but he doubled down.

“They must be blind kid, or stupid.” He chuckled to himself, “Probably fuckin’ both.” He smiled, and I smiled back, bursting at the seams, but before I could respond our waitress came with our food.

The spell we were under before we got food was somewhat broken when we were eating, returning to the more casual atmosphere, talking about our jobs and whatnot. He was really interested in knowing more about my job which made me feel almost as special as before the food came, but I kept it to surface details for now. Adam had a lot of weird habits from what I could tell, he cursed like a sailor, and he got super intense then switched back to normal out of nowhere. Yet, despite all the odd facts this man drew me in every time he opened his mouth, he had me on the edge of my seat constantly. Throughout the meal I couldn’t help but wonder, what’s going to happen next?

When we both finished our meals the tension from before began to seep back into the conversation in doses. By the time the waitress returned with the check it was pretty clear Adam was ready to get out of there, and I wasn’t much farther behind. While Adam went to fish for his wallet, I threw enough cash out on the table to cover both meals, not wanting to linger for change. Adam looked like he was going to protest, but I just offered my hand out to him.

“I asked you out,” I explained, leading him out of the restaurant and back on the sidewalk. “Its only polite I pay since I invited you out.” I turned to him and realized he was much closer to me than expected. He took a step closer to me and his long shaggy hair began to cover his face.

“I guess I’ll just get it next them then kid.” He offered with a smile and I looked away, feeling an excitement bubble through me for more. “We never did finish our game.” He said not teasing anymore, I looked at him and pondered for a moment before answering his unspoken question.

“Dare.” I said confidently this time, leaving him to smirk down at me in pride. He puffed up his chest and moved even closer. He leaned in like he was going to kiss me but just before he allowed our lips to finally meet, he stopped.

“I dare you to kiss me.” His gruff tone sending my nerves haywire, a chill running down my spin at the command. His eyes darker than I had seen them, only balanced by the smirk on his lips daring me, goading me to follow through. The final straw was the sensation of his hands settling heavily on my waist, keeping me steady and sure as I surged forward and planted my lips on his.

From there he wasted no time gaining access to my mouth and invading each of my senses one by one.

Touch; the feeling of his tongue languidly pushing against mine, fighting a war for dominance and winning without hesitation. His hands finding themselves roaming over every point of my body, and mine deeply nestled in his hair.

Sight; the possibilities of what comes next floating by in my head in vivid detail. The sheer number of ways this encounter could finish, all unbelievably tempting.

Sound; the deep velvet groan from his dulcet tones when I tugged on his chestnut locks, the whimper that snuck out of my mouth when his hands made home on my backside.

Smell; the dark woodsy pine notes of his cologne mixed the sweet vanilla of my perfume creating an intoxicating scent.

Taste; nothing I’ve had in my life could compare to the taste of Adam on my tongue, the feeling of wholeness only grew. My wanting grew with it, wondering if Adam tastes good now, what other perverse acts would taste even better.

Eventually the heated kiss broke, and the depths of Adam’s eyes told me everything I needed to know in that moment. “My apartment is just a block that way.” I spoke breathlessly, pointing behind us in the direction the night would take place. He threw his head back with a groan, a sight that sent shockwaves of anticipation through my body and to my center. He nodded his head furiously.

“Fuck yeah kid, lets go.” He spoke, pulling me along with my hand to head in the direction of my apartment. By the time we made outside my apartment and pulled out my keys Adam sprung into action, pulling my back to meet his front allowing me to feel the full effect I’ve had on him throughout the night. His errection dug itself into the curve of my behind and suddenly I realized just what I would be dealing with for the night. Adam Sackler is fucking hung.

His kisses trailed up my neck, his hips grinding into my body and the noises he was making were borderline pornographic. The task of opening my door was lost as I allowed myself to lean back into the pleasure, he was giving me. His hand trailed down my arm slowly as he sucked on a particular spot behind my ear that made my knee buckle in bliss. His hand wrapped around mine, that was still holding the keys, and raised it to the door.

“If you don’t unlock that door now, I’ll fuck you in the hallway.” He threatened, no doubt in my mind he would follow through with the threat. I quickly refocused on getting my key in the door and getting this man inside.

As soon as the door was shut, he had me pressed against it, mouth pushing against my own once again, but now his hand travelled under my shirt kneading my breasts in his large sturdy hands. I reached, clawing at his shirt to come off as he unclasped my bra from the back, which only succeeded in turning me on. Once his shirt was removed, he made quick work of mine, stopping only to marvel at the sight of my topless body. He stared for just a moment too long, doubt flooded my veins and my throat tightened at another failed encounter where someone didn’t like what they saw.

Just as I resigned myself to my own fate, reaching down for my shirt, Adam took both of my wrists and pinned them above my head. Once again pushing me against the door and pinning me from any other means of movement.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he demanded with a dark grit in his voice I had not heard before, his fire like anger only lighting the fire of hope in my belly once more.

“I thought,” I started and as soon as I began to speak, he ground his erection into my core, effectively beginning my decent into madness. “Fuck, Adam that feels good!” I cried out rather than explain myself.

“Come on little girl,” He teased breathlessly into my ear, obviously enjoying the act as much as I did, “Explain yourself to me.” He spit out all that came out of my mouth in return was a needy whimper and shuttered breath. It set my body on fire, turned my bones to jelly as he shifted to hold my weight for me.

“I- fuck- I thought you didn’t like it.” I said softly, simply as the pleasure built with every thrust of his hips against mine. My back arched as he slowed to a stop, my eyes shooting open to see him looking down at me with furrowed brows.

“You thought I didn’t like your pretty little tits huh?” he looked down at me, and I nodded softly, shyly up at him and his eyes softened slightly. He made the move to prop me up against the wall and move his body down. He kissed his way from my jaw down to my chest, finally settling with both his hands caressing my breasts. “You have,” He punctuated it with a small suck on my chest leaving a hickey a few centimeters above the nipple, “The most,” He took his sweet time worshiping every square inch of my chest, “Glorious tits I’ve ever fucking seen.” Finishing it off with an intense attachment to my nipple that sent earthshattering shockwaves throughout my body from the first real contacted pleasure Adam had given me all night.

“Please, baby girl,” he murmured against my tits as he moved further down my body, “Let me eat your sweet little pussy.” He spoke, the dirty message matched only by the lewd and carnal tone he spoke with. Before he could anywhere with my pants, I took his hands and began leading them to my bedroom, which wasn’t too far away.

He followed like a lost puppy trailing its owner, looking at me with wide and hungry eyes, taking in every movement my body made. As soon as I laid back in the bed, he made quick work of my pants, pulling them off with my underwear in one swoop. I let him handle me however he wanted and he moved with swift expertise that had my core drenched by the time he was done.

With his hands stabilizing my hips, keeping them pinned to the bed, he sat between my legs admiring the sight laid out before him. He smirked at my disheveled appearance, trying desperately to hold on to my sanity and he hasn’t even laid his hands on me. Suddenly his tongue was on me, taking one long stride of my core before focusing on my clit.

“Fuck yes!” I shuttered out when he brushed his tongue in a zig-zag on my clit before detaching with a sadistic chuckle. He explored every part of me, places no man had ever considered now have me careening towards the pit of bliss at lightning speeds. He took his time prodding at my hole while swiping his nose at my clit and in that moment, I swore no one was better at this than Adam fucking Sackler. My hands twirled themselves into his hair tugging harshly, making him pause for his own pleasure. Only then did I notice his gyrations on the mattress himself, which sent my mind into an overdrive of pride and arousal.

“Your pussy tastes so sweet for me baby girl.” He hummed smugly into my pussy, the vibrations bringing me that much closer to the edge. He looked up at me, watching me fall apart as he brought his hand to my entrance working in a finger, beginning to stretch me out for him. “Your pussy’s tight, that for me?” He spoke, knowing I was way too close to orgasm for me to respond with anything but whimpers of his name mixed with any expletive that comes to mind.

“Adam,” I called out, tightening my hands in his hair, trying to signal him for more. “Please!” I cried out, his pace slowing to a teasing momentum before he added another finger without warning. My head tilted back, losing all sense but the sense he was feeding me through his ministrations. I was teetering a dangerous ledge and with every thrust of his fingers he brought me to the edge. He took one last thrust of his fingers hitting the deepest part of me, paired with his tongue swiping my clit and the damn burst within me.

Euphoria was flooding my system; I was floating in orgasmic bliss surrounded by nothing by the feeling of Adam bringing me through my haze and the smell of sex mixed with his cologne. After what felt like a lifetime of bliss, I felt him begin to kiss his way back up my body, taking special care of my stomach, sucking hickeys along the way.

“You’re so good at that.” I murmured, still coming down from my high. He chuckled into my neck before coming up to my face and planting a big kiss on my lips. I immediately responded, wrapping my arms around his shoulders and bringing him flush to my own body. I could taste myself on his lips, his facial hair still coated in a layer of my cum, which only added to the kiss. “Adam, I need you to fuck me.” I said as I broke the kiss. His eyes lighting up again like in the living room, he moved away from me to finally take off his pants.

“Condom?” He asked as he stood in his boxers, outlining his prominent erection pulsating in need. I only shook my head, moving to the edge of the bed where he stood to palm him over his boxers.

“I’m on the pill.” I whispered seductively in his ear, he nearly doubled over in pleasure once the statement registered in his brain. He wasted no time taking my hips and twisting me around so I was on all fours before him. A deep feeling of butterflies reverberated in my stomach as I arched back into the hands he planted on my ass. He let himself groan at the sight of me before him once again, this time he had his hand moving over his thick cock.

He rubbed the head of his dick over my pussy before catching it at my hole and pushing forward. The sting of him stretching me was not lost on him as he braced himself around me, caging me into his dick. He hissed as I clenched around him, trying to accommodate the difference. “Fuck your pussy’s so fucking tight you’re gonna squeeze me out.” He gritted out through clenched teeth, waiting for my signal to go ahead. His dirty comment only helped relax me, sending me spiraling in euphoria.

“Adam, I need you to move.” I whined out, desperate for the friction he was made to bring me. He pushed farther and farther in until he was buried at the hilt. Both of us shuddered out, he filled me to the brim, his body made for mine in ways I had never felt before. Suddenly he pulled back and slammed back in with a deliberate force, landing perfectly on my G-spot. I cried out his name, the only thing I could remember at this point.

“Yeah, yeah that’s it,” He praised my squeals of pleasure, “Say my name you fucking whore.” He spit out making my pussy clench around him in absolute pleasure. The way his hips slammed against mine, the way his hands groped at the cheeks of my ass, mixed with the things coming out of his mouth sent me into another dimension. “You like that you little slut? You like when I call you dirty little names?” He prompted me, adding a harsh slap to my ass to punctuate his thrusts.

“Yes!” I cried out, burying my head into the sheets, letting Adam have his way with me exactly how he wanted. “Yes, I love being your little slut! Fuck!” He landed another spank, jolting me forwards on his cock. He retaliated by taking charge with my hips once more, grunting out insults mixed with praise.

“Are you gonna cum? You gonna cum on my fucking cock you whore?” He stopped his thrusts, teasing me and my climax fading. “If you want to cum on my cock, fuck yourself on it.” He demanded, his hands kneading and soothing the damage he caused my backside already. I began rocking back on his dick, creating a similar rhythm to before. The harsh slaps echoed around the room and the lewd situation escalated my frenzy. “That’s its little slut, you’re fucking yourself so well.” He lost himself in the pleasure of it all, meeting my thrusts halfway.

“Adam,” I moaned out, feeling the same euphoric anticipation building in my gut, I escalated the force trying to push myself to the place of bliss. “Adam, I’m going to cum!” I announced feeling the cliffs edge building and building. His hands trailing up my back and grabbing a fist full of my hair and pulling me flush against his chest, changing the angle so he was pushing deeper inside me.

“Cum for me little slut.” He commanded, another hand wrapping around me to rub my clit in time with his thrusts. The bubble built higher and higher until I felt myself release for the second time that night. His thrusts continued, faltering as my body spasmed in absolute satisfaction, his grunts of pleasure travelling into my ear as he chases his own high.

As his hips begin to falter their rhythm, he pushed into me for one last time before he let go and painted my insides with the ropes of his cum, marking me from the inside out. He wrapped his arms around me, collapsing us both on the bed, his cock still inside me, beginning to soften as he spoons me from behind. Our highs collectively lower and he is left trailing small kisses on the back of my neck and shoulder.

“Where have you been all my life?” I joked once the atmosphere was returning to normal. He chuckled out, squeezing me into his chest even if I didn’t necessarily fit, and shifted his hips away from mine for the first time slipping out of me.

He moved to look at me properly before saying, “Brooklyn.”

A/N: Thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought, my inbox is always open!

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