#Bitching and rolling on the ground

[teaboot]

hello internet what is the thing where parts of your back feel clenched up and you can’t get em to relax. Like im laying on the floor right now and there’s a spot below my lungs that feels like there’s a rock in it. I feel like if I stretch long enough in a very specific position a I can pop things back in place like pulling the string on a bow but I have not yet found a position convoluted enough to work. Is this just what life is like after 25 forever

[annemariearcher]

And...I saw the leaks. Now I'm going to be pacing around with wild theories spiraling in my head for the next 18 hours before the full chapter drops.

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

not me giggling bc I brought up moths as a symbol in sunless ground like omg teehee not me dropping easter eggs of old symbols into a new book

[amoron4everyone]

MY FUCKING DRAWING TABLET IS BROKEN

*UGLY SOBBING*

[ialwaysknewyouwerepunk]

.

[crownshattered]

|| watching the hashira training arc...watched the episode with gyomei's backstory....

My sisters and I started SCREAMING when little Kaigaku was on screen XDD

[rafesangelita]

♡ when rafe accidentally snaps on bambi!reader

warnings: a little bit of crying, hurt + comfort

a/n: thank you so much to the anon who sent in this link <3 this little drabble is inspired by it!! i might open up req’s soon because even though i have prompt ideas already, lately i’ve just felt uninspired to write them out..

“are you almost ready?!” rafe called out from the front door, his truck keys hanging from his fingers. you didn’t respond, instead you panicked once you realized you weren’t even close to finishing your makeup. “oh, god..” you whimpered, scrambling to your feet to try and put a quick outfit together while you patted in your blush.

at your lack of response, rafe cursed under his breath before slamming the door shut and making his way to your room. “are you fucking serious?” you jumped when you heard his voice, your head shooting in his direction as you stood there, dumbfounded. your hair rollers were still wrapped tightly in your hair, your robe hanging haphazardly off your shoulders. it was needless to say you looked far from being ready.

“son of a bitch—” rafe’s eyebrows knitted together as he pinched the bridge of his nose, a frustrated sigh falling from his lips. he was already irritated upon arriving to your place. rafe had spent all afternoon arguing with ward over some ‘cameron development’ stuff, he had deadlines he already accepted he wasn’t going to be able to meet, it was like a thousand degrees outside and to top it all off; he was hungry.

“we’re just getting something to eat, bambi. you could honestly just leave the house like this.” rafe grumbled, already moving to get ahold of your elbow and drag you out. “what?! no— ray, can you please just give me ten minutes? all i have to do is put on some clothes and finish my makeup real quick. i’ll even take my rollers out in the truck, okay?” rafe studied you for a moment, his nostrils flaring as he let out a deep breath.

“fine,” he nodded, “i’m gonna go turn the ac on in the truck, then. please try to make this fast.” you muttered an ‘okay..’ before spinning around and taking a seat at your vanity. you worked as quickly as you could, only getting as far as putting on some lip liner and lipgloss before you heard a honk outside. curling your lashes hastily, you wasted no time in slipping on a dress you hadn’t worn in a while.

grabbing your purse on the way out, you skipped down the stone walkway just in time for rafe to roll his window down. “do you have everything? your phone?” you paused. your phone was on your bed last time you saw it. “uhm, i’ll be right back..” you apologized when you saw the scowl on rafe’s face. your boyfriend shook his head when you tripped, nearly sending yourself on the ground as you rushed to go back inside. setting your purse down on the couch, you grabbed your phone and walked back out, your chest rising and falling as you tried to remain calm and collected.

“did you lock the door?” oh, you could just cry right now. “no..” you winced, walking up to the truck so rafe could give you his key. “my, god, what the hell is going on today? it’s like everyone is trying to piss me off.” you ignored his words, quicky making your way to the front door so you could lock it shut. it wasn’t until you were halfway down the driveway when you realized your purse wasn’t on your shoulder. “wait, i forgot one more thing—” that was it. you had definitely pushed rafe past his limits now.

rafe snapped, the vein in his forehead bulging out of his skin as he shouted. “holy shit, just get in the fucking truck!” he waved his hands in the air as if you couldn’t see him standing right in front of you, his volume alone making you jolt. you stared blankly at him, your chest caving in on itself as rafe blinked, both of you sharing a knowing look. rafe watched your face morph as your chin wobbled and your eyes welled up with tears.

“i’m sorry—” he exhaled, instantly wrapping his arms around you, “i’m so sorry, baby, i won’t do that again.” you sniffled, letting him embrace you. it took you having to cry to make rafe realize he’d been acting like an asshole since he got here. “you know that scares me!” you cried, the velcrow of your rollers tickling his neck. “i know, i know,” he cradled your head, pressing kisses along your cheek, “here, we’ll just order something instead, yeah? we don’t have to go anywhere.” he turned off the truck, guiding you inside by the small of your back.

[lavender-lady-777]

"The Bride" not having a name outside of her relation to a man she wants nothing to do with. Her body being constantly objectified and sexualized before she was even conceived. Her face, her torso, even each of her individual, rotting limbs being carefully selected to fit the sexual preferences of an absolute stranger. Her skull being beaten in and manhandled during a man's jealous outburst, her head rolling to the ground like an inanimate object. The story of Marilyn Monroe's body. The way women cannot rest even in death.

The constant expectation of who The Bride will be before she even is. The way patriarchal societies buy pink onesies and Barbie cribs and headbands with bows before a baby is even born. The stain of forever being "just" a woman. The way this mirrors Eric's flowers, the way he love-bombs her and lays ownership to her before she's even developed consciousness.

The way Eric insists that his bride doesn't need to develop basic language skills or even a rudimentary understanding of the world around her, because her education doesn't directly benefit him. The way he was created to usher in a new era of scientific discovery for mankind, while she was created only to please him. The Biblical story of Eve being carved from Adam's rib. The way organized religion trains women to believe that their only use lies in being obedient and subservient to the men around them.

The Bride being continuously punished for her sexual awakening, for any exercise of her own autonomy or free will. The way the only “love” she has ever known was brutally murdered because she refused to cater to the expectations of the men around her, because she denied the title that was thrust upon her at birth. The way that men have always done this to women— labeling us as "jezebels" or "harlots" or "whores" or "bitches" or "sluts" for refusing to fall into a role we never consented to performing.

And, of course, the fact that Eric continues to feel entitled to her body even after she tells him no in every conceivable way. "Why won't she let me touch her?!" The parallels between his behavior and that of so many incels who believe that women exist solely to serve their purposes. "She is to love me!" The way that, after losing her, he spends his time partying on yachts with models and playgirls, because that's all women are to him... just pretty objects. The way he bastardizes the word "love" because he's never taken the time to know or love her, not really.

The inherent trauma of her birth and nature— the way the horrorshow of her creation reflects the unspoken horror of every woman's creation. "She is but a cluster of fear and not knowing."

Ohhhhh Mary Shelley I fear you would love this show...

[mrsbarnesblog]

just us

masterlist

summary: a situation between pogues and kooks at the beach made Rafe rethink his priorities

word count: 1.8k.

warnings: season 4 spoilers, established relationship, mention of the dead turtle, that hoe Ruthie, protective Rafe

a/n: i'm obsessed with season 4, y'all. absolutely in love with everything that's going on and especially with Rafe being in a better place with a girl that he actually likes 🥹 this scene at the beach with turtles just made me sob, so I really need someone to drag that bitch by her hair. sorry not sorry.

Your heart was beating with adrenaline from the scene that just happened at the beach, with Topper’s girlfriend almost running over the pogues and being the usual insane bitch that she was. Rafe stood beside you, silent but shaking his buzzed head in disapproval.

Kie was standing on her knees on the sand, in shock, with juice still dripping down her face and hair. She brushed off the help of her friends, instead standing and picking something up from the ground, without hesitation, going towards the group of people around you. They seemed absolutely delighted by the whole situation, laughing, fist bumping each other, and making you want to punch every single one of them in the face. 

You didn’t even want to be here in the first place, not with a bunch of people with whom you shared mutual hatred towards each other. Rafe was your only connection with them, and it seemed like even for him it was a bit too much. A fun day at a beach with a little surfing competition, where even Topper and JJ seemed to have some fun together, took the wrong turn way too quickly.

“Look what you did! Is this okay?” Kie stopped in front of Ruthie, reaching out her hand to show something that you weren’t able to see, but by the look on her face it was obviously serious to her. “There was a turtle hatch, you idiots! You drove right over it!” Your stomach twisted at the realization, and you took a step closer to see it yourself. 

“Oh my God.” You whispered, catching a glimpse of a tiny dead turtle with a crushed shell laying in the palm of her hand. So little and harmless that the picture of it brought tears to your eyes. 

“Don’t look, baby.” Rafe’s deep voice mumbled near your ear, with a warm hand sprawled across your back to try to distract you, but you shook your head, unable to take your eyes off it. 

“All right, but it was only one.” Ruthie said with her usual attitude, nonchalantly pointing to the rest of the turtles that, luckily, were perfectly fine. Your mouth opened in disbelief, and you looked at Rafe to see him uncomfortably rubbing the back of his head. 

“I’m so sorry, Kie…” You whispered to her, stepping further away from the kooks, eyes drifting again to the dead animal in her hand. No matter how hard you tried to fit in with Rafe and his friends, you could never be one of them if it meant to be a bunch of pompous and cruel rich kids. You thought that, maybe it was time for you to finally admit that. 

“It’s not your fault, Y/N.” She briefly looked at you, because despite not being friends, there never were any arguments between you and the rest of the pogues, always keeping cool and friendly with each other. “There’s something wrong with you, people.” Kiara looked back at the kooks with disgust written all over her face. 

“I’m leaving, Rafe.” Barely holding back your tears, you looked back at your boyfriend, before picking up your beach bag from the sand and turning around. “I’m sorry again for them, Kie.”

“No, wait, Y/N.” He pushed through the crowd, wide-eyed, quickly approaching you and grasping your wrist. “This is not—“

“I don’t want to be here. I didn’t sign up to hang out with your friends when I started dating you, okay?” You groaned in frustration, attempting to move, but Rafe stopped you. “I don’t even know why we’re here, why you are here, when you clearly don’t enjoy it anymore.” 

“Listen, this is not so easy, okay?” He rolled his eyes, but you knew it was not fully directed at you; Rafe was already struggling with trusting those around him, and the fact that you slowly but steadily made him reconsider his current surroundings did not help. 

“You are not like them, they are not your friends, don’t you understand it?” The pure desperation was speaking in you, searching for the answers in his eyes. You overheard some people laughing at you, as they were too confident that Rafe would never listen to someone like you, someone from the cut, not even realizing the war that was currently going on in his head. 

He was silent, thinking, making his already overwhelmed mind go hundred miles per hour to figure something out, because you were right. The more time had passed, the more the two of you were together, the less Rafe found himself enjoying the presence of his old friends, the less he wanted to do that childish bullshit. 

“This dumb fucking bitch almost ran over people and killed an innocent animal because her big ego got hurt, do you understand?! So I’m leaving. Alone or with you.” You almost whispered the last part to him, too scared that he'd not choose you. At the end of the day, you were a pogue, and no matter how much you tried, you would never be good enough for Rafe. 

“What did you just call me?” Ruthie arched a brow, now shooting daggers at you. 

“I called you a dumb fucking bitch, didn’t you hear me?” You spat, finally having a good enough reason to tell the truth right in her face. “Or are you too stupid to get that through your thick scull?” 

“That’s rich, coming for a pogue. It’s just a cycle of life. And if you, losers, are so offended by that, it’s not my problem.” 

“A cycle of life? Getting flattened by a truck is not a cycle of life.” Kiara pushed Ruthie with her hand, and it nearly turned into a fight, with JJ standing by his girlfriend's side. You turned away from them, too frustrated and drained to bother listening to the rest of the conversation, your gaze shifting to Rafe, who still held your hand.

“I want to leave. Stay here if you want to, I don’t care. I’m done with them, Rafe.” Your teary eyes met his blue ones, and he shook his head, pulling you closer with your forearms. The mere thought of you leaving him, angry and upset, triggered a whirlwind of panic within him.

“Hey, no, I’m not staying, okay?” Rafe's hands, now much gentler and delicate, touched your cheeks, wiping away a few tears that you could not keep back. Rafe had never been too comfortable with the display of emotions, and he was pretty sure that it was the first time he had actually seen you cry. And he knew how much you had always carried for animals, how you petted every stray cat or a dog on the street, and how you hated any form of violence against them. 

The pulsating and aching feeling in his chest at the sight of your tears made him want to drop everything, or rather, eliminate everyone who had upset you, and just hold you in his arms. 

“Aw, look at you.” You heard that annoying voice behind you back again, pulling you out of the bubble in which you fell, and turning around, you saw that Kie and JJ were no longer there. Your eyes instantly rolled back as Ruthie looked at you with her usual fake sympathy, crossing her arms over her chest. “Go back to your side of the island, you’re not one of us. Don’t even know why Rafe bothers to bring you here when you’re just another dirty toy to—“

Rafe left your side before she could finish her sentence, looming over her with the most furious expression you had ever seen on his face. Everyone and everything seemed to fall silent for a moment, and you held your breath, unsure what he would do. “Wanna say some bullshit about her? Try to do it right in my face and see what happens.”

“You’re not seriously protecting the pogue. She’s not on our side.” Her smile faded, her eyes now nervously looking between Rafe and Topper, who was standing behind her back. 

“C’mon, Rafe…” He started, but quickly shut his mouth as soon as Rafe turned his head towards him with a silent threat. You felt your heartbeat quickening as the atmosphere started to get even more intense. Everyone around you also started arguing and saying God knows what, but Rafe was awfully calm, and it frightened you even more. 

You moved closer to them as you made your way through the warm sand, until you were able to place a comforting hand on your boyfriend's back. He was so tense under your touch that it amazed you how the hell he was not shaking because of it. The only times you had ever seen him behaving that way was when people whispered something about his father behind his back.

“It’s okay, Ray.” You whispered, kissing his shoulder and sliding your hand down his back to take a hold of his bicep. 

“You’re lucky that I don’t hit women. But if I hear a single word about my girlfriend again, you will regret it, I promise you." Your stomach flattered from the way he protected you, from the way his friends opened their mouths in shock at his words. Even Topper and Kelce were too stunned to speak, sending each other weird glances. “Control, your crazy bitch, Top.” 

As if nothing had happened, Rafe stepped back, throwing a protective hand over your shoulders and guiding you away from the group. He was silent for a whole walk towards his truck, only stopping near the passenger door and turning you to face him. 

His worried blue eyes were almost shining under the bright and hot sun and you saw words forming in his head and sitting at the tip of his tongue. You waited another minute, while Rafe was focused on your necklace, thinking. His hands found a place on your waist, rubbing circles into your skin, until he finally took a deep breath and looked up. 

“You’re right.” He said simply. “I’m not this person anymore. That shit with racing with pogues was fun and all, but I didn’t like what happened today.” You half smiled, nodding and encouraging him to talk. “If—if I want to be like my dad, I need to have my priorities straight. No more of this bullshit, no more fake ass people, yeah? You’re the only one who's been here for me for a long fucking time. You’re the only one who I can trust, baby.”

His hand cupped your cheek, eyes focused solemnly on you, before he lowered himself closer to you to place a kiss on your lips. 

“This is the right decision. You’ve overgrown them, you’re a better man now. And i’ll be here for you whenever you need me, I promise. I guess it’s just us now." Your body sagged against his, too wrapped in the comfort of his presence to even care about anything else. Your lips brushed against his, making Rafe groan.

“Just us, baby.”

[bi-writes]

who to call to clean up after an "accident" than your sick and twisted military boyfriend? :D (dark!ghost x dark!fem!reader, 18+)

cw: dark!reader, dark!simon, horror movie vibes, graphic depictions of character death/murder, unhealthy relationship dynamics, one slip of daddy, smut, unprotected piv, simon "spit in my mouth" riley, reader and simon are kinda psycho :D

you've been so nice to her. really nice. you've let it slide off your back whenever she doesn't do her dishes. you pretend you don't notice when she borrows your shoes from the hallway and wears them out to dinner. you hide yourself in your room when she has her awful, loud guests over, and you have never once said anything about how she takes her sweet time in the shared bathroom in the morning and makes you late 2 days a week for work.

but this? this?

she needs to keep simon's name out of her fucking mouth.

"excuse me?" you say finally. your roommate is shrugging on her jacket to leave, her purse in her hand as she types on her phone, using it as a way to not make eye-contact with you. her long nails are tapping against the screen, and it feels like fucking drip water torture. "what the fuck did you just say?"

she sighs, irritated, rolling her eyes as she keeps tapping away at the screen.

"you're so dramatic, it was just a fucking joke."

"you know, i let a lot of things slide," you laugh, humorlessly, and you cross your arms over your chest as you follow her into the kitchen. "but you need to be careful what you say."

"i don't do anything except call it like i see it," she says, tossing her hair over her shoulder and looking at herself in the reflection of the mirror hanging on the wall. "you need to just...go out more. man like that isn't gonna stay for long if you don't give him something to go for. he's bored, you know. when you have him over here all the time. and i've totally caught him peeking at me after i shower, y'know."

"well why the fuck are you wearing nothing but a towel when my boyfriend is here, anyways?" you snap. "he's trying to be polite, he's a guest. what if i wore a fucking towel when you had your guy friends over?"

she laughs, poking at the edge of her lip to fix the gloss of her pout. "trust me, honey, no one's looking at you in a towel."

you step back, a little shocked. she rolls her eyes again, sighing.

"i didn't--"

"are you kidding me?" you retort. "you're the worst fucking roommate in the world, and i put up with all your bullshit, and now you're going to go so low as to insult the way i look just to make yourself feel better?" you make your way around the kitchen island. "you don't wash your fucking dishes, you steal my fucking clothes, you're always late on your rent so i have to spot you--"

"you know what, just because i'm fucking happy, and you're not, doesn't mean you have to take it out on me!"

"i am happy, you sorry bitch!" you cry. "i'm so fucking happy, you're the only thing in my life making me constantly miserable!"

"oh, shove it up your ass, you ungrateful little shit!" she snaps. "you're just so fucking insecure and hate me so badly just because simon would rather fuck a girl like me than have to spend another minute with--"

the crack of cast iron against her head shuts her up. it dents the side of her head easily, and her face smacks against the countertop before she crumples to the floor.

it's so fast. one minute, she's yapping, high-pitched voice straining your ears. the next, she's silent.

and she won't say simon's fucking name again.

you watch with bated breath as she folds into herself, her head hitting the hardwood last, a slow puddle of blood beginning to grow under the tendrils of her hair as your eyes move to the heavy pan you're still holding in your hands.

fuck, that's a lot of blood. god, you thought she was just full of fucking air.

you drop the pan once the rush of anger leaves your chest. it thunks onto the ground, and your hands shake as you see the specks of blood that are on the back of your hands, sprinkled over the shirt you wear. it stains your bare legs, even your toes, and you don't even want to look at the spray of it along the counters.

you should be crying, you think. you should feel bad. you're trembling a little, but you think it's just the adrenaline beginning to fade and not the guilt you know is supposed to be racking your insides.

you turn your eyes back to her. her eyes are dull. she doesn't move. it's so quiet now, utterly silent, and you take a deep breath as you take in the silence that you've craved for a long while now. you make your way quietly out of the kitchen, stepping over her body before going for your phone that sits on the coffee table in front of the couch.

you keep your eyes on her as you put your phone to your ear. it rings, and you tilt your head to the side as the blood begins to spiderweb under the kitchen table.

"'ello?"

you blink, looking towards the door. you clutch your phone a little tighter to your ear.

"simon?" you say softly. "a-are...are you busy?"

he hums lowly, chuckling, "no' at the moment, swee'eart, why?" he asks. "mmm...missed y'r voice..." you close your eyes as you hear the buckle of his belt. you try not to picture your giant of a boyfriend leaning back on his worn couch and shoving his jeans low enough to fuck his fist. "tolk t'me, luv...tell me 'ow much ya miss daddy."

you clear your throat gently, willing yourself to ignore the soft squelch of what you know is his hand around his cock, to not let it distract you from what's more important. "uhm...i liked the flowers you gave me, simon. t-they were beautiful."

the sounds on the other end of the phone quiet. you hear shuffling, and then a few moments later, the clink of his car keys.

"tha' right, baby?" he asks, and you close your eyes as you hear the front door of his flat opening. he's already on the way, already coming.

"yeah," you sniffle. "really nice sunflowers."

a yellow flower. he huffs on the other end of the phone, breathing a little easier.

"good girl," he murmurs, and then the line cuts. you set the phone down, making your way back to the kitchen and taking a seat at the table. you watch as the blood continues to curl over the floor. you make no attempt to help her; you just swing your feet under you as you look at her spoiled outfit, just grateful she isn't wearing your shoes or one of your jackets. you would hate to have to throw something out that she got all dirty.

there's a curt knock at the door ten minutes later, and then it opens. simon shuts the door behind him, cracking his neck by moving it from side to side before narrowing his eyes at you. you bite your lip, blinking, forgetting suddenly why he is here when he looks so fucking good. he's got a sweatshirt on under his windbreaker, worn jeans tucked into his boots; you like these jeans, his ass looks incredible in them.

"wot happened?" he asks. you stand, remembering your place. your lip starts trembling, and simon's eyes soften just a little. he's wearing his balaclava, hood up over his head and jacket zipped up, shadowing any true expression on his face. his gait sounds heavy as he lets his hands out of his pockets, coming towards you. when he steps into the kitchen, his eyes dart towards your roommate who's still on the floor, laid out unnaturally just by the oven.

he lets out a low breath, clicking his tongue under the mask. you hold your breath as you wait for his reaction.

"bloody hell," simon mutters, reaching up and throwing his hood off. you wring your hands together nervously, your eyes beginning to sting with tears. you brace for the accusations, for the inevitable terror of facing the music. simon is military, for fuck's sake, why the fuck did you think turning to him would be a good idea?

"i...i-i--" you start, looking up at him, and he holds up a hand, taking the side of your face into his palm before smoothing a gloved thumb over your bottom lip. you blink in confusion, not understanding.

"'s olright, baby," he shushes you, shaking his head. "don't cry."

"simon, i--" you sputter a little, gripping his wrist gently. "i just--i couldn't do it anymore, she just--"

he pities you. maybe you can explain. maybe if you tell him a warped story of what happened, he can help you. he must know someone. he must have important friends, he must--

he uses his free hand to move his mask up over his nose, and you lean into him when he bends, kissing you warmly. your eyes flutter shut, and you shuffle closer as he kisses you sloppy, kisses you hot. you mewl as he slips his tongue into your mouth, licking over your teeth and humming low as he pulls away. his eyes are flashing.

mmm. love.

"hmm..." simon licks his lips, smiling a little. he looks over you, almost pensive, his eyes scanning over your face before he settles back on your eyes. it's tender, the way he looks at you. romantic. "let's get this off of ya."

he reaches for the large shirt you are wearing, pulling it up and over your head. he crumples it into a ball before tossing it on top of your roommate, nodding his head behind you.

it's then that you realize simon isn't going to do the noble thing. he isn't going to call the police. he isn't going to turn you in, make you explain, he seems uninterested in knowing what really happened. no, he already knows what happened. but that's not important.

his pretty, perfect girl got into a little trouble. and he's going to make this go away.

"go on, luv. take a nice shower, yeah?" simon turns you around and pushes on your back gently. you suck in a shaky breath when he fondles your ass, pulling on your panties gently. "mmm...take these off, too."

you slip your panties down your legs, handing them to him.

"they have blood on them, too?" you ask, wiping your face, and he chuckles lowly.

"nah," he shrugs, stuffing them into his back pocket after taking a little sniff. "these are just for me."

jesus fucking christ, there's really something wrong with him. there's something really, really wrong with him.

and something wrong with me.

simon looks you up and down, his eyes catching on your naked body for just a few moments before he nods his head again.

"go on," he tells you. "before i get distracted." you pause for a moment, tilting your head back a little as he reaches out and cups one of your breasts in his big hand. you bite your lip, swallowing back a heavy breath as he flicks his thumb over your nipple gently. "greatest tits 've ever seen," he mumbles, scrunching his nose under the mask before he lets you go. "yeah, go on, baby." it takes everything in you to walk away when you see him reach down with that same hand and grip his bulge through his jeans, adjusting himself as he turns back to the mess in the kitchen.

when you shut the bathroom door behind you, you hear shuffling in the living room. the coffee table scraping. the couch being pushed. the rustle of the rug you have there. he grunts a little, and you hear his boots track from the kitchen back to the living room.

you turn the water on hot. you decide to take a bath, not looking at yourself in the mirror as you sink into the tub and plug the drain. you make the water scalding, and it soothes your sore muscles as you rest your cheek against the edge of the tub and stare at the door.

you're not sure how long you stay there. long enough for the water to nearly slosh over the edge of the tub and for simon to swing the bathroom door open, seemingly done with his...tasks.

he's taken his sweatshirt off. just a black t-shirt tucked into jeans, and there's a slight pant to his breaths that tell you he's exerted some energy. you notice he has his gloves still on, but before he touches you, he takes them off and tosses them into the sink.

"move over," simon mutters, starting to undress. you look up at him as he undoes the button on his pants, shucking his shirt off and into the corner before dropping his jeans. the water swishes as you sit up, and you swallow hard when simon kicks his boots and pants off, his cock hanging heavy as his mask is the last to hit the floor.

fuck, he's so pretty.

he has no regard for his size. he simply steps into the tub behind you, taking a seat. he looks comically large in your small bathtub, and you squeak a little as the water spills over the edge of the bath and wets the floor. he hums as he feels the hot water on his back. you don't say anything as his hands start to turn the water a little red. you just look up, away, at him.

you shuffle between his legs, tucking yourself into his space. you can't help but look him up and down, admiring his naked physique. he's just hot. big arms, thick thighs, sunburnt tattoos and scars cutting across his face. he hasn't shaved today, so there's some stubble along his jaw, but your eyes focus a little too much on his girthy length, heavy as it sits on his stomach and leaks a little there. his fat stomach, all solid and pudgy, such a nice place for you to rest your hands.

"you did good today," simon says finally. you look at him, and he tilts his head to the side. his approval makes your chest warm. "callin' me like tha'. wot a good girl you are."

keeping quiet on the phone is what he doesn't add out loud.

you purse your lips, trying not to keen at the praise, but it's hard not to when he reaches over and slides his hand over your shoulder, thumbing at your jaw.

"i-i didn't...didn't know what to do," you admit, and he clicks his tongue, shaking his head. you didn't know what to do, so you called him. level-headed enough to not do something rash and call someone else, no, you called him.

"mmm...tha's wot i'm 'ere for, luv," simon soothes you. "made such a little mess..."

you close your eyes. it's sick. deranged. fuck, it feels nice.

why don't i feel anything?

"i know. i'm sorry."

"nothin' ta be sorry about."

you slump into his arms, resting your cheek on his solid chest. you can feel his cock pulsing against your tummy, and you adjust yourself in the water, straddling him as you rest your chin on his pecs and look up at him through watery eyes.

you aren't sad. no. not sad at all. simon has shown you what he will do for the you. the lengths he will go. what he'll forgive just to take care of you. he's so capable, so understanding.

sick. twisted. mine.

"then i'll just say thank you," you mumble, grinding your hips slowly. simon hums, a wicked smile coming over his scarred face. he licks over his bottom lip, big hands gripping you by the fat of your hips as you grip the edges of the tub for stability. "say thank you to my big, strong man for taking such good care of me..."

he chuckles, his eyes lowering, watching your tits sway as you fit your pussy over his length and grind down on him.

"tha' so, baby?"

you nod.

"mhm," you whine. "how can i thank you, my big boy? how can i show you how grateful i am for cleaning up after me, hmm?" you bend at the waist, kissing him wet and warm, and he hisses as you suck his tongue into your mouth. he tastes like cigarettes, and normally you would curse him for it, but right now it tastes so much like him, and you lick around his teeth trying to taste more of that sweet nicotine.

"fuck--such a naughty little girl..." he snickers, reaching down. you sigh when he slides his big palms over your ass, forcing you to grind slower, the tip of his cock sliding through your folds leisurely. you grip the edges of the tub tighter, pressing down to give you more leverage to grind down harder. "make such a mess, oll the time..." you gasp when he presses into you just enough, the tip breaching your entrance and forcing you to squeeze around him, your cunt trying to suck him in. "olways needin' me ta pick up afta ya..."

you giggle, sliding your hands up his chest, gripping his shoulders for leverage as you sink down onto him. he grits his teeth as you do, his eyes focused on the way his cock disappears inch by inch until you're seated down in his lap, his length kissing deep and twitching excitedly. he always feels like a teenager again whenever you fuck--like you're the first pretty girl to ever wet his cock.

you cup his cheeks finally, smoothing your thumbs under his eyes as you bring his gaze up to meet yours. you swallow hard, looking down at him.

"i-i love you, simon," you breathe. he stills underneath you, his jaw clenching as he frowns just a little. you come a little closer, nuzzling your nose against his, your thumb falling to trace the outline of his torn lip. "i should've said it a long time ago...i-i..."

"heart's beatin' out y'r chest, luv," he mutters lowly. "'s olright...'m not goin' anywhere."

it's so disgusting. you should be fucking ill. you should be scrambling to the toilet, your breakfast halfway up your throat. you should be crying, emotional, begging simon to tell the cops that it was all your fault, because it is. he should've come here and made you do the level-headed thing and confess your terrible crime.

he shouldn't be here, sitting underneath you in your tub, cock-deep inside of you after helping you commit murder and then fucking clean it all up.

"what did i do?" you gasp, sitting up. you move to get out of the tub, but simon growls, putting two firm hands on your ass and shoving you back down on his cock, making you cry. "w-what did i do? s-simon, why don't i feel bad, why am i not sorry--?!"

simon tsks, feigning comfort. he juts his bottom lip out into a pout, mocking your little cries.

"oh, luvvie, don't start cryin' now," he chuckles. "don't start pretending like y'care."

uhm...

"simon--"

"no one likes a liar."

you're still trying to pretend, and he knows this. you're still trying to act how someone normally would react. someone normal, someone who thinks rationally, would never have picked up the pan in the first place. and even if they had, they would've scrambled, cried, picked up the phone and confessed, called an ambulance as they tried to get her to start breathing again, put both hands on her chest and tried to get her wake up.

but you didn't. you watched, unnervingly calm, as she stained the hardwood with her blood. you watched as her eyes glassed over, lifeless, and you watched as her insides began to paint the floor in abstract shapes as you gave it time to spread. and not once during that time, or waiting for simon, did you think to help her.

you didn't want to help her. and you certainly didn't think she deserved to get back up. maybe she hadn't done anything quite harsh enough to deserve death in someone else's eyes. annoying, overbearing, rude.

but it's hard to feel bad when she talked about simon. when she called him by his name. when you've seen her let her towel slip when he's in her vicinity, trying to coax him into her room when you're looking away.

you should've taken one of the throwing knives that simon hides in his boot and thrown it at her then, just for that.

"we're cut from the same bloody cloth, baby," simon says, almost accusingly. you grip the edges of the tub, trying to stand again, but he cants his hips and fucks up into you, drawing a frenzied moan out of you. you reach for his shoulders as he does it again, his tongue darting out before he licks a fat stripe over your pebbled nipple. "'s olright. 's okay, luv. don't worry. don't hafta get y'r hands dirty, swee'eart, i've got it."

"but simon," you whine, but all he does is shake his head. you don't have to put on this morality act for him. you don't have to pretend that you are sorry for something that you had every right to do, you don't have to explain to him why you aren't feeling the way you should be feeling.

simon doesn't care about how you should feel. he only cares about how you actually feel.

"she was in y'r way," simon grunts. "always bein' a bloody brat." he fists your hair and brings your mouth to his, groaning as you tighten around his cock. "'ow many times did she fuck ya over, baby, hmm? 'ow many times did she steal y'r fuckin' things, come outta the loo wearin' nothin' but her fuckin' knickers, yeah? 'ow many times?"

you kiss him, frantic, digging your nails into his pecs and dragging them angrily.

yeah. fuck her. fuck what she did to me, fuck the way she behaved, fuck her stupid face and her stupid attitude and her stupid little games.

"called ya names..." he's hitting your sweet spot now, making you cry from pleasure. your pussy feels so hot, squeezing him because you know he's right, and the way he fucks this time makes you think he really knows what you are and knows exactly how to get you there. "wot a fuckin' twat. deserved every bit o' it, baby."

you meet his eyes, dark and cruel. he's still moving, still holding onto your hips and drawing out little whines, but it's different suddenly, it's more. you nod, understanding.

simon is terrible. no good. his head isn't in the right place, maybe it never has been. you wonder, briefly, if this is what he does when he's at work, if these are the things that he's used to. maybe simon has been in service too long--maybe he doesn't understand that you aren't at war here, that you can't just kill and clean up, that you aren't in the field.

"she deserved it," you whimper, and he grins, all teeth, all mean.

"tha's it."

"she was such a bitch."

"fuckin' right."

"she got what was coming for her."

"nnghhh--fuck, baby, gonna make me fuckin' cum, tolkin' like tha'," he hisses. you practically smack him as you grab onto his scarred face, gritting your teeth as you glare down at him. his lips part, and you spit in his mouth as he fucks up into you, thighs hitting your ass with a wet smack that makes your head spin.

"and i'll get rid of the next bitch that so much as looks your way, simon."

the kiss is searing. hot, blinding, white noise fills your ears as he cums with you, stuffing you full as he cums hard, a pained groan leaving him as he collapses against the porcelain tub with a harsh thud. you follow him, chasing after him, kissing him between heavy breaths as you don't make any effort to move off of him. when simon opens his eyes, he can't help but smile.

he's never seen his reflection without a mirror.

[missdynamighttt]

can you please write brat tamer!bakugou?? i alwayss think of him as the biggest brat tamer😵‍💫

it started off as a harmless little spat. something stupid. you were being a little bratty, pushing his buttons just to get a reaction out of him.

“oh my god, you’re so dramatic,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “you act like the world’s gonna end just ‘cause i forgot to text you back for an hour.”

katsuki snapped his head toward you, scowl deepening. “yeah, well maybe if you weren’t so fuckin’ glued to work all the damn time, you’d remember to answer your goddamn boyfriend.”

“ohhh, i’m sorry,” you drawled sarcastically. “i didn’t realize you were so needy, katsuki.”

“needy?!” his voice dropped an octave, practically growling. “you talk a lotta shit for someone who cries like a fuckin’ whore whenever i make you cum.”

…

the room went dead silent.

your mouth dried instantly. your thighs clenched.

“…what?”

“you heard me.” his tongue clicked, his voice dripping with condescension. “get all high ‘n mighty with me all you want — but the second i’ve got my hand between your legs, you turn into a fuckin’ mess."

your breath hitched. heat flooded your core so fast it was embarrassing.

“…that’s—” you swallowed thickly. “—not true.”

“ohhh, it’s not?” he stepped closer, towering over you. “so you don’t beg me to keep goin’? don’t fuckin’ scream my name like it’s the only word you know?”

your stomach flipped. your body betrayed you, your thighs squeezing together, and of course he noticed.

“…holy fuck.” his laugh was dark, low. “you’re gettin’ wet, aren’t you?”

your face burned. “i—no, i’m not—”

“liar,” he cut you off, tilting your chin up so you had no choice but to look at him. his mouth ghosted over yours, but he didn’t kiss you. “you wanted this, didn’t you?”

you could barely think straight. his hand was already grinding against your core through your shorts, and the friction was making you ache. “i-i didn’t—”

“didn’t what?” he laughed, but it was cruel. “didn’t think i’d put you in your place for talkin’ to me like that?”

his hand slid inside your shorts, two fingers brushing against your soaked panties. “or didn’t think i’d figure out how fuckin’ wet you got when i talked to you like a bitch?"

you whimpered, your body betraying you as you bucked against his hand. “f-fuck—”

he shoved your panties aside, his fingers sliding straight into your dripping cunt. “jesus fuckin’ christ. you’re drippin’.”

his pace was merciless, his fingers curling just right, and you practically screamed. “ain’t no fuckin’ way you’re gonna mouth off to me like that and expect me to be nice about it.”

“k-katsuki—” you gasped, clutching his arm like it was the only thing keeping you grounded. “k-katsuki, fuck—”

katsuki snorted, a low, dark sound. “goddamn, you’re so fuckin’ easy. what, me bein’ a dick gets you this fuckin’ wet?”

your face burned, but you couldn’t deny it. your body betrayed you — the way your thighs squeezed around his hand, the way your hips ground down, desperate for friction.

“answer me, sweetheart,” his fingers pressed harder against you, the heel of his palm grinding into your clit. “you like when i’m a fuckin’ asshole to you, huh?”

you whimpered, arching into his touch. “y-yes…"

“yeah? that why you were runnin’ your fuckin’ mouth earlier?” he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. “hopin’ i’d snap and put you in your fuckin' place?”

you didn’t even have the strength to deny it anymore. “yes,” you gasped. “fuck, yes."

“filthy fuckin’ girl," his laugh was dangerous. he curled his fingers, dragging them against that spot that made you see stars.

your head fell back, mouth hanging open as his fingers fucked into you at a brutal pace. your legs shook, your body already hurtling toward the edge. his fingers were relentless, pumping in and out of you like he had a point to prove.

his thumb found your clit, rubbing harsh, fast circles. “i’m gonna make you cum so many fuckin’ times you forget how to talk, you hear me?”

“y-yes—oh my god, yes—”

katsuki didn’t even give you a chance to breathe before he was on you. he yanked his fingers out, and you barely had time to whine in protest before you heard the sound of his belt clinking. his belt hit the floor with a loud clang, and he was already ripping your shorts down your legs.

you felt the head of his cock press against your soaked entrance — and then he slammed into you in one brutally slow thrust.

“oh my god—” you screamed, your hands flying up to brace yourself.

katsuki groaned, his forehead pressing against your shoulder. “fuckin’ knew it. knew you were just beggin’ to get fucked stupid.”

katsuki was already balls deep inside you, his hips snapped into you, merciless and unrelenting. “actin’ all tough — but you fall apart the second i get my cock in you."

“f-fuck—katsuki— ohhh my fucking god—” you sobbed, gripping the couch cushion like your life depended on it.

“yeah?” katsuki snarled, his hands digging into your hips as he fucked into you like he hated you. “what happened to all that fuckin’ attitude, huh?”

“i—i’m sorry,” you gasped, your eyes rolling back as he pounded into you mercilessly.

“nah,” he spat, his hand snaking up to fist your hair, yanking your head back. his mouth was at your ear, his tone dripping with condescension. “you weren’t sorry when you were runnin’ your fuckin’ mouth, were you?”

you wailed, body jolting with each brutal thrust. “i—i didn’t mean to—”

“bull-fuckin’-shit,” he growled, slamming into you even harder, making your vision white out. his hand smacked your ass hard, making you scream. “you wanted this. and now look at you. fuckin’ dumb on my cock already.”

“ohhh fuck—” you were drooling, practically melting under him.

“greedy little whore,” he sneered, yanking you up so your back was flush to his chest. one hand was tight around your hair, the other shoved between your legs, rubbing quick, ruthless circles on your clit. “gettin’ this fuckin’ wet—just ‘cause i was mean to you?”

“please, please, please,” you cried, grinding down on his cock. “i need it, i need it so bad—”

“god, you’re so fuckin’ easy,” he laughed, dark and mean. “all i gotta do is treat you like a cheap little fucktoy and you lose your goddamn mind.”

your walls clenched around him hard, and he felt it.

“ohhh, fuck yeah.” he laughed darkly, his other hand smacking your ass so hard you squealed. “you like that shit, don’t you? bein’ treated like a fuckin’ cumdump?”

“please—!” you sobbed, your face burning. “please, please—please don’t stop—”

“yeah? that what you fuckin’ wanted?” his hands bruised your hips as he pounded into you, his thick cock stretching you open mercilessly.

“katsuki—!” you screamed, your legs shaking uncontrollably.

“shut the fuck up,” he snapped, shoving two fingers in your mouth. “bite down if you need to scream, i’m not fuckin’ stoppin’ until you can’t fuckin’ walk.”

your eyes rolled back, your brain melting from the sheer overstimulation.

“fuckin’ slut,” katsuki snarled, his thrusts getting sloppier. his hand slammed down on your ass again, the sound echoing through the room. “you’re so fuckin’ tight, you keep suckin’ me back in, like you don’t want me to leave—”

“don’t—!” you sobbed, voice muffled around his fingers. “don’t leave, don’t stop, please—”

katsuki’s laugh was downright evil. he yanked his fingers out of your mouth, watching the string of drool snap. “beggin’ me like a desperate little bitch. you want me to fill you up, huh? fuckin’ breed you?”

“yes—!” you wailed, tears streaming down your face. “please, please, please—”

he growled, yanking your hair back so your back arched. “all it takes is my fuckin’ cock and you turn into a sloppy, brainless mess, huh?”

“yes, yes, yes—” you sobbed, already a mess. you could feel how wet you were, hear the obscene squelching with every thrust as he ruthlessly railed you into the couch.

your eyes rolled back, drool slipping from your lips as he bullied his cock deeper. you could feel your orgasm barreling toward you again, your thighs shaking uncontrollably. “katsuki, i’m gonna—”

“don’t you fuckin’ dare until i tell you to.” his thrusts slammed into you harder, his hand absolutely abusing your clit. “you wanna cum? you ask for it.”

“please, please, please—” you were sobbing, your body begging for release. “i’ll be good, i’ll be so good—please let me cum, please, please—”

“that’s more fuckin’ like it,” katsuki growled, his own thrusts getting sloppy as he bottomed out inside you over and over again.

and when he finally slammed into you one last time, his hips shuddering as he came deep inside you — you swore you blacked out for a second. your walls milked him so hard he cursed, his hips stuttering as he filled you up, his teeth sinking into your shoulder with a feral growl.

“fuckin’ hell,” he panted, still buried deep inside you.

katsuki let out a heavy breath, his chest heaving against your back as he slowly came down from his high. his arms were still locked tight around your waist, holding you flush against him, as if he wasn’t ready to let you go just yet.

you, on the other hand, were utterly wrecked. your body felt boneless, your brain floating somewhere between the couch cushions and the afterglow. the only thing keeping you from melting into a puddle was the fact that katsuki still had you caged against him, his cock still nestled deep inside you.

“…you alive, sweetheart?” his voice was low, raspy, but there was a teasing lilt to it, the barest hint of a smirk pressing against your shoulder.

you made a noise—somewhere between a whimper and a breathless laugh—because no, you weren’t entirely sure you were alive. “maybe.”

his lips ghosted over the bite mark he’d left on your shoulder, soothing it with a lazy kiss. “tch.”

for a moment, neither of you spoke. his hand ran up and down your back, slow and lazy, while his other hand found your thigh, kneading it absently like he was grounding himself. your breath evened out against his skin, the rise and fall of his chest lulling you into a hazy daze.

he pulled out slowly, and you shuddered as his cum dripped down your thighs. katsuki hummed, smug as ever, but the way his hands gently kneaded your hips gave him away.

“lemme see,” he turned you over carefully, his hands bracing you as if you were fragile now. his gaze darkened when he saw the mess between your legs. “shit. you really took it all, huh?”

your face burned as you pouted up at him. “stop looking at me like that.”

he smirked, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “like what? like i wanna go again?”

you groaned, trying to bury your face in the couch, but he only laughed. “alright, alright. c’mere.” he tugged you up and into his arms, carrying you toward the bathroom with ease.

you sighed against his chest, boneless in his grasp. “you’re…really good at that, y’know?”

his chest rumbled as he chuckled. “no shit. i’d hope so after all these years.”

you huffed, but your smile betrayed you. “mhm. still an asshole, though.”

“mhm,” he nudged your forehead with his chin. “i'm your asshole.”

you hummed in agreement, nuzzling closer as he set you down on the counter. he turned to start the bath, and you watched as he tested the water, his usual scowl softened with something almost tender.

“you alright?” he asked, not turning around.

your heart swelled, and you reached for him, tugging on his wrist.

“yeah,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to his palm. “perfect.”

he huffed, cheeks a little pink, but he didn’t pull away. instead, he cupped your cheek, rubbing his thumb over your skin.

“hmph,” he muttered. “better be.”

then-

“you talk a lotta shit for someone who just got turned into a fuckin’ puddle,” katsuki murmured, a smug grin evident in his tone.

you groaned into his chest. “don’t start.”

“oh, i’m startin’,” he snickered, pressing a kiss to your temple. “miss ‘ohhh, i didn’t realize you were so needy, katsuki.’”

you smacked his chest weakly. “shut up.”

“needy, huh?” he mocked, snorting. “that why you were beggin’ me to fill you up?”

your face burned. “katsuki.”

“‘please, please, please, i’ll be so good—’” he mimicked in a high-pitched voice, clearly enjoying himself too much.

“oh my god.” you shoved your face deeper into his chest, willing the counter to swallow you whole.

he chuckled, his fingers tangling in your hair, scratching at your scalp in a way that made you melt despite yourself. “awww, what’s wrong? where’s all that attitude now, sweetheart?”

“i hate you.”

“yeah?” he kissed the top of your head, his voice annoyingly soft now. “too bad i love you, huh?”

“yeah, yeah. needy,” you whispered, just to be a brat.

for a moment, you just lay there, warm and content in his arms. then—

katsuki suddenly scooped you up again, making you squeal as he carried you over to the bathtub. “keep runnin’ your mouth, and i’ll dunk your ass in cold water.”

you clung to his shoulders, giggling. “you wouldn’t dare.”

his smirk was downright evil. “try me.”

you yelped as he pretended to tip you forward, and he snorted at your panicked grip on him.

the water was perfectly warm, steam curling into the air as he slowly lowered you in. the moment your body sank into the heat, you sighed in pure bliss, the tension in your muscles melting away.

katsuki knelt across from you on the tub, watching you with that familiar intensity. his fingers trailed lazily over your arm, tracing invisible patterns along your damp skin.

“you’re staring,” you mumbled, cracking an eye open.

“damn right i am,” he muttered, reaching for a washcloth. “can’t believe you called me needy when you’re sittin’ here all fucked out and clingin’ to me.”

you stuck your tongue out at him, but you didn’t protest when he started running the warm cloth over your skin, taking his time cleaning you up. his touch was firm but careful, sweeping over your shoulders, your arms, your legs. when he reached between your thighs, his jaw clenched at the mess he found there.

“fuck,” he muttered under his breath. “made a goddamn mess of you.”

your face heated instantly. “i can do it myself,” you mumbled, reaching for the cloth, but he swatted your hand away.

“like hell you can. just sit there and let me take care of you.”

you fell silent, lips parting slightly.there was something different about his voice—gruff, sure, but also softer than before. almost reverent.

katsuki never did anything halfway. whether it was fucking you into the couch like he had something to prove, or scrubbing every inch of you with a kind of focused determination like he was doing now—he was always all in.

your heart ached with how much you loved him.

“katsuki.”

he glanced up, raising a brow at your tone.

you reached for him, fingers curling around the back of his neck as you pulled him down into a kiss. it was slow, sweet, completely different from the way his mouth had been on you earlier. he hummed against your lips, the hand holding the washcloth slipping to your waist as he deepened the kiss.

when you finally pulled away, his gaze flickered over your face, then he scoffed, rolling his eyes. but his ears were red as he reached for your shampoo, squirting some into his palm before running his fingers through your hair.

you melted immediately. “god, i love you.”

"tch. i love you more," katsuki grumbled, but you caught the way he pressed his lips to the top of your head. his arms curled tighter around you, holding you close, as if he could keep you there forever.

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

[mywritersmind]

WANT ME IN RED - LN4

summary : Lando Norris is the bane of your existence, him following you into your drivers room yelling about on track drama is enough for you to spiral. What you don’t realize is that you both have been dancing around one specific issue, something that you solve. Something that involves his mouth on yours and his hands on you.

listen up : something everyone’s been waiting for… smut!!!!! p in v. dirty talk. unprotected sex. yelling. hot people doing hot things.

words : 2105

⋆｡‧˚⋆

“Get the fuck out of my driver room, Norris!” He doesn’t listen. Lando slams the door behind him, storming after me as if he owns the place.

“What the hell was that!?” He yells at me as I roll my eyes, too mad to even speak. I’m sweaty, i’m sore, and i’m really fucking pissed off.

“I could ask you the same thing!” I spin around, my suit now half unzipped and hanging around my hips, “You cut into my line and you fucking know it!”

“Cry me a goddamn river, Y/n! A second later you ran us both off track and put me into the wall!” I bite back a smirk, the memory fresh and completely true in my mind.

“Deserved it.”

This makes him even angrier, his cheeks red and his eyes dark, “I cannot stand you!”

“Poor baby,” I fake sympathy, “Did you forget we’re racing to win?”

“I’m racing to win!” He points at his own chest, his suit undone and his hair wild, “One of us hasn’t gotten there yet.”

“I could have if you hadn't tried to do more than you’re capable of!” Another loss because of a bitch in orange got on my nerves. “Are you ever not an absolute cunt? Or is it just your nice fancy car that gives you all this false confidence?”

“Oh please don’t pull that shit! You lost because you’re batshit crazy!” I scoff, throwing my Ferrari hat down and stepping closer to him.

“It’s called aggressive driving but you wouldn’t know that, would you? Mr. gave a win away!”

He shakes his head, “Keep my moves out of your bitchy little mouth.”

“Can’t own up to your mistakes?” I pout, his eyes dropping to my lips, “Or is it your pathetic team that’s making you such a pussy?”

He’s backed me up into the wall, staring down at me as if he wants to hit me. Or worse, kiss me.

“Has the red dye gone to your head already!?”

“Has the vocabulary of only ‘papaya rules’ gone to yours?” I laugh in his face, “Get off your high horse, Norris, you’re not all that special.”

His arm braces itself next to my head as he leans in closer, “Wanna know what I think?”

I cross my arms over my chest, “Not particularly.”

“I think that you want me.” his voice lowers, his head dipping closer to mine, “And it fucking kills you.”

My heart is beating faster than in our cars. I stand my ground, blinking as if he has absolutely no effect on me, “Are you still sour that I said no to being your teammate?” He scoffs, looking away from me and giving me a face full of his hardened jaw, “Because it really was the idea of doing everything with you that made me physically ill. That, and I don’t look good in orange.”

His eyes find mine again before trailing down my body. “It’s gotta be better than red.” He catches his lip between his teeth, pulling at my skin tight fireproofs and snapping the fabric against my side.

“Do you wanna know what I think, Norris?” I look him dead in the eye, his body tensing as a smirk forms on my lips. I stand taller, leaning into him and whispering so close to his ear that my lips dust his cheek. “I think that you’re a horrible fucking liar.”

Our bodies are against each other now, waiting for one of us to make the first move. I snap my head back against the wall, his eyes zoned out as I grin to myself. I’ve got him and he knows it.

His gaze finally meets mine, dark and full of lust. “Admit it.” I say, looking up at him mischievously. His breath is calmer than I'd expected, but something tells me his heart is beating like crazy. Just the thought makes me want him even more. “You want me. Right here. Right now.”

He doesn’t say anything, just drops his head and closes his eyes. God… he looks hot when he’s pissed off and sweaty. Especially when he knows damn well that both of us want him to take it out on me.

I watch his head sway from side to side, thinking… contemplating. Then, he looks back up, his back hunched and his eyes at my level. I know what he’s waiting for. I know we both want it.

My eyes lock on his, “Wanna fuck me in red, Norris?

This time, he doesn’t hesitate. His lips are on mine in an instant, a hand already on my waist and shoving me into the wall. I’ve never kissed Lando before, every moment I've shared with him was one of us aching for each other.

Now that I have, I can confirm that the rumors are true.

He mumbles something against me but I can’t even register it because the second he runs his hand under my fireproofs and over my nipple, I groan. Christ, he’s quick with it. His hands are huge, exploring my chest, waist, and slipping below my race suit.

“Lan-” I’m about to tell him to slow down but my mind is quickly changed by his hand snaking up my leg and moving it off the ground so he’s gripping my thigh.

His mouth is hot against me, straying from my mouth but never leaving my skin as his lips navigate to my neck. My skin is on fire, a warmth that pools between my legs and makes me grind against him.

He clearly likes his, pushing me harder against the wall and tugging at my race suit. I bring Lando’s lips back to mine, grabbing his chin forcefully and not missing the breathless smirk that plays on his lips.

That look tells me all I need. I don’t really know how it happens so quickly, both of our rushed movements and hurried kisses end up in my race suit on the floor.

“You’re so-” Lando kisses my neck, making his hands slide down my waist to where he snaps my panties back against my skin, “Fucking… hot.”

“Everytime we’ve fought- you’ve wanted to fuck me, huh?” I moan at the contact of his hand to my core, sliding over the fabric and teasing me to no end.

“Every. Damn. Time.” I kiss him again, resting my hands on his neck as his fingers explore the thin black of my underwear.

I breathe against him, pushing him away which earns me a slight whine from his lips. My hand goes to his hair, his head leaning into my hand as I do so. He’s eager for me.

I push down and he goes right with my movement, his eyes locked on mine as one knee finds the floor. I’m testing him and he’s too pathetic to even care. He looks as if he’s drooling for me, his mouth slightly parted as his lust clouded eyes stay on me.

I can’t help but smirk, grabbing the collar of his race suit and pulling him back up. Like I've got him on a goddamn leash. He doesn’t look mad- just in a hurry. “Tease.” He says against my lips as the satisfying sound of a zipper rips through the room.

“Slut.” I say right back, my hand moving down his body and letting the suit fall below his waist.

I can feel him against me now. The Calvin Klein waistband staring at me as his dick throbs under the fabric. His hands are on me again, now onto my ass which he squeezes as if he owns it.

His hands are something worth fantasizing about, cupping my ass like it’s nothing as one of his fingers, too big for his own good, slides my underwear down.

“Tell me you want this.” He says quickly.

“I want you.” my words make him shiver, his underwear long gone and his dick staring right at me. “You want me?” I whisper, my hand drifting over him just enough for him to whimper in my ear.

“If I ever say no to that question, kill me.” His hand covers mine, dwarfing me as he positions himself to my entrance. He lifts my lips for me and in a moment of intimate silence, he pushes into me.

My head goes back instinctively as I feel him in me. He groans when I accidentally slip down the wall a bit, “Fuck, I hate you.” I love it when he lies to me.

He starts going now, pushing into me like i’ve always dreamed of. His hand slams next to my head as his head lulls in between us. I moan, watching his arm tense against the wall as he quickens his pace.

I can’t even tell if my feet are on the ground anymore, he’s holding me so tight as if i’ll slip away. As if I'd want to.

I moan louder as my body squeezes against him, matching his whines before he moves his hand over my mouth. “Fuck you.” I bite out before he pushes against me harder, mumbling my voice and making him grin.

“Check.” He chokes on a laugh, turning it into a whimper and taking his hand off my mouth, “Gotta stay quiet.”

I can’t do anything but nod, feeling him so intensely as I grind into him more, wanting all of it. “So fucking good for me.” He mumbles, watching his dick move in and out of me.

He starts going harder, that dizzy feeling overtaking me as I roll my eyes back, “Norris-”

“Say my name, Y/n.” His voice, deep and gravelly, makes me reach my high even faster. He dips his head to my neck again, practically biting me.

“Lando.” I force out as my whole body catches fire. I cum just before Lando, pulling out of me and releasing on my thigh. I watch the milky substance drop down my leg as my own mixes in.

We both stand there for a second, out of breath and in shock. And then Lando and I collapse onto the floor, my head slumped against his shoulder, not caring about the mess or our suits.

“Y/n!” A voice comes from outside the door, “Just making sure you’re okay!” It’s my best friend. “You have an interview in twenty-“

“I’m good!” I yell back, still out of breath and achy, “I’ll be out in a sec.”

Lando leans his head back next to me, “Next time, we’re fucking in my room.”

I scoff, “Next time?”

He whips his head towards me, “Don’t do that- That’s not fair!”

I smirk slowly, “All's fair in sex and racing.”

He shakes his head, his curls still damn and his cheeks flushed, “You’re evil.”

“You love it.”

He cleans me up after that, being much gentler than he was during the act. I watch his hands- god I love his big hands, especially knowing that they were just all over me.

He slides my panties back on, slow and steady as if he doesn’t want to hurt me. Or he doesn’t want to stop looking. Then my race suit gets zipped back up, only halfway because his hands still on me means my skin still on fire.

He glances at my neck, “Just- pull that up a bit.” My eyes widen when I realize what he means. Standing up quickly and rushing to my mirror I stomp my foot.

“Norris!” There aren't many, but one hickey would be enough to make the media go crazy.

He appears behind me, grinning proudly as he looks at his handy work. He pulls up the neck of my fireproof just enough so it’s covered, “There.”

“You’re a lucky man.” I turn to him, my arms crossed.

“Trust me,” He grins, “I know that.”

I check both ways before we both step out of my room, going separate ways in the empty hallway. I watch him walk away, turning back and watching me walk backwards.

“Norris.” I say, biting my lip and impulsively grabbing the hem of my fireproof, pulling it up so I flash him my tits.

He groans immediately, looking like he’s ready for another round already. “You’re gonna kill me.”

“I wouldn’t want it any other way.” I shrug, still walking and pulling my shirt back down. “See you next weekend, love.” I say the last word in a mock accent, teasing him.

I can hear the whine in his voice after I turn around to walk fully away, “Suck my dick, red!”

I hold my hand, flipping him off and laughing, “Maybe at a later date.”

[nochepsicodelica]

Suggestive

"Baby, I have to gooo," you whine, groaning irritatedly when the iron hold of Toji's arms doesn't loosen around your waist. "Lance is gonna be pissed if i'm late for another job."

"Mm..." he hums, his lips detaching from the fresh mark he just left on your neck. "We could be leaving together, partnered up and all," he murmurs, gently brushing his lips over the plethora of visible kisses, "but you won't leave that damn agency. Shiu's better at finding jobs that pay you tons to basically shoot at practice dummies."

You sigh. This is the discussion you and Toji have practically every other day. He always waits until you're almost leaving to bring it up, too.

"You know I owe a lot to the guy, Toji. He swooped in when I needed help—when I was on my own and couldn't ground myself. He treated me like I was family—like I was his own kid. I can't just turn my back on him like that."

"I know, ma, and trust me, I get that. I completely understand, where you're coming from. We've got similar stories in that aspect, 'cause I feel like I owe Shiu a lot, too. But what are you gonna do when someone puts a hit on me, and your handler offers you so much money that you can retire as soon as i'm down?"

You bring two fingers and your thumb up, shaping them into a gun, make a cocking sound and press your fingertips to his forehead. "Bang!"

Toji rolls his eyes, but his amused chuckle is what brings a smile to your face. "Yeah? You'd take the job and shoot me dead?" He asks.

"As if you'd get shot down so easily. Nah, someone else can struggle with that," you say, lowering your "gun" with a teasing grin.

"And if it had to be you?" He asks, leaning in to bury his face in the comfort of the crook of your neck, again. "Would you let me get away?"

You hum, enjoying the softness of his returning affection to the skin beneath the collar of your lowered turtleneck. "Yeah, I'd let you get away," you confirm. "I'd probably..." you cut yourself off with a giggle, a sound that has Toji grinning against your skin. "...probably turn around and text you to see what you want for dinner, and see if you're tryna pork later on." Your laugh returns when you feel the puff of air that comes with his chuckle, against your neck.

"You got a dirty mouth, doll," he murmurs, loosening his hold on you and letting his hands wander over your torso. "Fucking love it."

"Hey," you say, your tone a soft warning when he starts tugging at your shirt, trying to untuck it from your cargos. "I have to go, so pump the brakes for now, and we can go at it like rabbits later on—if you still want to. Okay?" You ask, rubbing his chest.

"Fine," Toji grumbles. He fixes the collar of your turtleneck and veils the evidence of his morning affection. "If I want to," he mutters, scoffing as if it's an unbelievable thing to say. "You're good," he says, referring to the tidiness of your outfit.

"Cool, but now I'm curious to know what you would do if Shiu told you to hunt me down."

He hums, a mischievous smirk formed on his scarred lips. He mimics the gun you made with your hand, but instead of pressing his fingertips to your forehead, he puts them beneath your jaw. He makes the same cocking sound and... "Bang!"

It's your turn to roll your eyes and laugh. "Nice. Real nice," you say, amusedly.

"Right?" He says, with a smug grin. He uses the position of his fingers to tilt your head up more and presses a single, slow and savored kiss to your lips, luring giddy giggles from you and a smile onto his face. "Nah, someone else can struggle with that." He retracts his "gun" from your jaw and rests his hand on your thigh.

"Wish we would've met under difference circumstances—you being one of Shiu's new hires if it was destined to be through this field—but I'm not gonna bitch about it when I got to meet you at all." There's a sincerity in his expression, a gleam in his eyes that you see when he's using his heart to communicate.

"Aww, Toji! You're such a sweeeetheart," you coo, your smile beaming as you pinch his cheeks. He groans, but still does absolutely nothing to stop you. "My big, buff, handsome man is such a softie," you say, squealing with joy.

While Toji can act like this is the most ridiculous thing ever—you cooing and peppering kisses all over his face—he can't hide that gleam in his eyes. So when you sigh and say, "Well, I'm officially late, again. I actually have to go, now." He's miserable and can't do anything about it.

"Call you later?" You say, getting off his lap and fixing your clothes.

"'Course, ma. Did you double check your duffel?"

"Uh-huh. Everything is in there and everything is functional," you assure.

"Sounds good." He doesn't lie back down yet. There's still two more things you need to do and he'll be damned if he doesn't get them from you.

You smile as you lean in to peck his lips, transferring some of your sweet lip balm onto his lips. One.

"Love you. I'll see you later." Two.

"Love you, doll."

As soon as you turn your back, Toji's swiping his tongue over his lips, trying to grasp the remnants of your kiss. Green eyes stick to your figure as you turn around and grab your duffel bag and phone. Phone in your pocket, keys in your pocket, duffel strap crossed over your torso, shoes near the front door—good to go.

"You look hot," Toji calls, after you, his usual smirk already raising his scar.

"Bye, Toji," you say, through a laugh.

[obxsluts]

Virgin Fucking Mary - M.R.

she told you she’s celibate, but she told me I can rail her shit

Theo had been your best friend since before either of you could properly walk, a bond that never wavered, even as you grew older and Hogwarts became your shared stomping ground. Your friendship was simple, easy—even if he did have a habit of oversharing details of his sex life that you could really, really do without.

You were sitting with Theo, Enzo, and Blaise at the Slytherin table, picking at your food while Theo recounted—far too enthusiastically, might you add—his latest escapade.

"Mate, I swear, I had her begging—"

"Merlin, Theo," you groaned, stabbing a piece of fruit with your fork. "Honestly, I don’t know why you put yourself in these positions when you know you're leading these girls on."

Theo just grinned, unbothered. “Can’t help it, darling. You know how they get when I—”

"You ever try talking to these girls first? Or is it straight to sticking your dicks down their throats?" Before you could roll your eyes, a presence dropped into the seat beside you. The scent of smoke and something inherently masculine curled around you, the unmistakable cologne of Mattheo Riddle invading your senses.

"What's this, then?" His voice was low, amused as he reached over, stealing a chip off your plate. "You giving Nott a lecture on morality, princess?"

You exhaled sharply through your nose, refusing to turn toward him. “Just asking if you whores ever have a conversation with a girl instead of thinking with your—” his hand reached over your plate once again, taking another chip.

"Now, where’s the fun in that?" he mused, popping it into his mouth.

You rolled your eyes, refusing to engage. "Of course you would say that, Riddle."

Theo let out a loud, amused groan, smacking the table. "Alright, alright, calm down, Thou Holy Virgin Mary"

You blinked. "Excuse me?"

Blaise shook his head, laughed under his breath. Enzo snorted into his drink.

But Mattheo—Mattheo—practically collapsed against the table, laughing so hard he nearly fell out of his seat. "No fucking way," he wheezed, pressing a hand to his chest as he recovered.

Your cheeks burned. The heat spread down your neck, prickling against your skin, but you refused to let it show.

"You lot are laughing at me," you huffed, tossing your fork onto your plate, "but at least I don’t have to worry about pushing a fucking kid out of me anytime soon."

Mattheo snorted, his amusement shifting into something more smug. "Yeah, okay, princess," he drawled, leaning into your space. His voice was low, teasing, but his eyes were sharp, glinting with something dark. "No wonder you’re so uptight. Explains why you’re such a bitch."

That pissed you off.

You turned to him slowly, eyes narrowing, expression carefully composed despite the way anger coiled hot in your gut. The others had already lost interest, falling back into their own conversations.

“Oh, I’ll have you know, Riddle,” you said, voice low, syrupy-sweet. “A girl can take matters into her own hands.”

Mattheo blinked. Just once.

You didn’t wait for a response. You stood smoothly, grabbing your book bag, and just for good measure, you leaned down just enough to let your lips ghost near his ear.

"You’d be surprised what I can do without a man."

And then? You walked away. Swaying your hips. Feeling his eyes burn into your back.

By the time you reached the door, you dared one last glance over your shoulder.

And there it was.

Mattheo, still seated, still staring, his expression caught somewhere between surprised and fuck, I’m turned on.

It was late, the library was completely empty with the exception of those in the moving portraits keeping you company. Most students had long since gone to bed, leaving only a dim glow of candlelight flickering between the shelves.

And you weren’t stupid. You had felt it.

The shift in the air. The way the back of your neck tingled. The weight of a stare burning between your shoulder blades.

You knew it was him.

Still, you pretended not to notice. You turned the page of your book, eyes trained on the words, until—

“Taking matters into your own hands, huh?”

His voice was low. Smooth. Dark with something predatory.

You didn’t jump. Didn’t react. Just hummed, dragging your gaze lazily up to where he stood.

Mattheo leaned against the bookshelf, arms crossed, dark curls falling into his eyes.

You raised a brow. “Something you need?”

His lips curved. “I think you know exactly what I need.”

A slow heat curled in your stomach. You tilted your head, feigning innocence. “What, Riddle? A book? Help with your homework?”

Your breath hitched as he stepped closer, caging you against the table. His hands found the wood, fingers curling against it as he leaned down—so close you could feel his breath against your cheek.

You refused to look up. Refused to acknowledge the warmth pooling low in your stomach.

But Mattheo? He knew.

“I’ve got a better idea,” he murmured.

His fingers brushed your thigh.

You swallowed hard. “And what’s that?”

Mattheo tilted his head, eyes flickering between yours and your mouth.

“You can show me,” he murmured. “How you take matters into your own hands.”

He saw the way your fingers twitched against the table. The way your lips parted just slightly, as if debating whether to let yourself fall or run. And, like the smug bastard he was, he waited.

“Nothing to say?” he mused, his breath brushing the side of your jaw. His fingers drummed against the wood, lazy, slow. “Funny. You had plenty to say at lunch.”

The heat between you was unbearable. His knee pressed between your legs, just enough to send a spike of need through you, but not enough to satisfy the ache building low in your stomach.

Mattheo saw.

Felt it.

And then—he pushed deeper.

“I bet you like it,” he murmured, dragging his nose along the curve of your jaw. “Being the good little princess. The one no one can touch. The one no one fucks.”

Your breath hitched.

“Bet you get yourself off thinking about it, don’t you?” His lips brushed just against your ear. “How desperate they’d be to ruin you?”

You clenched your teeth, refusing to give him the reaction he wanted.

He saw it anyway.

Felt the way your body betrayed you, thighs squeezing around the knee he’d wedged between them, the pulse of your breath, the heat rolling off you in waves.

Mattheo hummed, pleased.

Then, before you could react, his hand slid under your skirt.

You gasped. “Mattheo—”

But he wasn’t listening.

“I mean, let’s be honest, yeah?” His knuckles brushed the inside of your thigh. “A girl can take matters into her own hands, sure—but it’s not the same, is it?”

He leaned in, lips barely brushing your ear. dragging his fingers higher, pressing against the damp fabric of your underwear.

“Look at that,” he mused. "Virgin Mary isn’t so innocent after all."

Your fingers curled against the table. "I will kill you."

He just laughed, dark and low. "Yeah? You gonna do it with my fingers in your cunt, or after I fuck you stupid?"

Your brain short-circuited.

Mattheo used your stunned silence to his advantage, slipping his fingers beneath your underwear, dragging them through the slick pooling between your thighs.

"Fuck, Mattheo—"

He hums, watching your face, the way your lips part, the way your brows pull together in pleasure.

"You’re soaked," he smirks. "Thought you didn’t like me."

"I don’t like you," you pant, back arching as his fingers move faster, working you open, leaving you breathless.

He laughs. "Sure, princess."

He pulls his fingers out, and you whimper at the loss, at the emptiness. But then he’s undoing his belt, pushing his slacks down just enough, and your stomach tightens at the sight of him—thick, hard, leaking at the tip.

Mattheo catches your gaze, smirking. "You’re staring."

You roll your eyes, even as you hook your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. "Are you gonna talk all night, or are you gonna—fuck—"

Because he’s already sliding inside, pushing into you inch by inch, stretching you open in the most devastating way.

"Shit," he groans, hands gripping your thighs. "So fucking tight."

Your fingers dig into his shoulders, head falling back as he fills you completely. You feel everything—the way he pulses inside you, the way his breath stutters against your neck, the way he’s holding himself back, barely resisting the urge to ruin you.

"Mattheo," you whisper. "Deeper, please—"

Something in him snaps.

His grip tightens, and then he’s fucking you—hard, deep, brutal. Every thrust shoves you harder against the wall, knocking the breath from your lungs. You cling to him, nails raking down his back, thighs trembling.

"That what you want?" he rasps, snapping his hips forward, making you cry out. "You want me to fuck you deeper?"

You can’t answer. Can’t think. All you can do is take it, take him, let him fuck you so deep you swear you can feel him in your throat.

"Should’ve known," he mutters, biting down against your shoulder. "All that attitude—just a needy little slut underneath, huh?"

You whimper, gasping his name, digging your heels into his lower back, urging him closer, deeper.

Mattheo groans, pulling back just enough to look at you—your lips swollen, your pupils blown wide, your expression absolutely wrecked.

"Fuck," he mutters. "You look so good like this. Bet Theo would kill me if he knew."

You’re too far gone to care.

"Don’t stop," you plead, voice breaking.

He doesn’t.

He fucks you through it, fucks you until you’re falling apart around him, nails dragging down his spine, thighs squeezing tight around his waist as your orgasm rips through you.

"You feel that?" His voice was wrecked, panting, his forehead dropping against your shoulder as he buried himself inside you. "That’s what it’s like when a real man fucks you, sweetheart."

Mattheo groans at the feeling, his pace stuttering, his grip bruising. And then he’s spilling inside you, breathless and wrecked, pressing his forehead against yours as he cums, his thrusts erratic as they slowed.

You were still catching your breath, skirt bunched around your waist, Mattheo’s hands gripping your thighs with a possessive kind of desperation. As he finally pulled out, breath heavy against your ear. A satisfied smirk tugged at his lips as he leaned back, taking in the sight of you—disheveled, marked up, and absolutely wrecked beneath him.

His fingers brushed over your thigh before he whispered, “Was that your first?” His voice was dripping with smugness, already assuming he knew the answer. “Did you like it?”

You tilted your head up at him, amusement flickering in your eyes. Oh, Mattheo…

“Do you really think I’d lose my virginity to you?” you mused, voice laced with sweet mockery as you reached for your skirt, slipping it back on with slow, deliberate movements. You adjusted it, smoothing out the creases, completely unfazed by the way his expression darkened.

Mattheo’s smirk faltered. “What?”

His expression shifted—something sharp, something dark. "What the fuck does that mean?"

You grabbed your bag, slinging it over your shoulder with an easy smirk. "It means, sweetheart," you said, voice dripping with faux sympathy, "that you really should have a chat with Theo sometime."

His brows furrowed, confusion flickering before realization settled in like a slow-burning fire.

"Oh," you mused, tapping your chin like you were deep in thought. "You don’t know about him, do you? About how he doesn't really get the whole 'kiss and don’t tell' thing?"

You slung your bag over your shoulder, taking your time fixing your hair in the reflection of a nearby window. turning to face him, "I don’t kiss and tell—but unfortunately for you, Theo definitely does." you said sweetly.

His brows furrowed. "Theo—what the fuck are you talking about?"

You leaned in, just close enough that he could smell the faint hint of perfume on your skin, the remnants of whatever sin you two had just committed. "Ask him about me sometime," you murmured, a smirk playing at the edges of your lips. "I’m sure he’d love to share the details."

You turned to leave, but not before tossing one last dagger straight at his ego. “Oh, and Mattheo?” You glanced over your shoulder, giving him one last look-over. "Next time, try lasting longer."

Then you walked out, leaving him alone in the dim glow of the library—jaw tight, fists clenched, drowning in the bitter aftertaste of his own ego—because for once in his life, Mattheo Riddle wasn’t the one doing the ruining.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

a/n: slut me out

here’s part 2 for you whores

ᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴇʀ ᴄʀᴇᴅ: @ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀɢʀᴀᴘʜɪᴄꜱ

MASTERLIST

[thelotusrabbit]

DpxDc #7

A hug would be nice...

(can be applied to many different heroes, so have fun with this)

Danny looked horrible.

It was a bit of an understatement, but other words would sound too mean and he felt like crying, so getting insulted right now would not be the best thing.

He was completely covered in bandages, head to toe, most of them bloody as he limped in the middle of the night in an unknown town.

First, it was the vivisection, then the ecto burns from the GIW guns, the scratches he got running away in the vents (he didn’t know if he needed a tetanus shot now), getting electrocuted by the fence, getting chased around for days without break and now it sounded like it was about to start raining.

He looked like a bloody and sweaty mummy that had a good roll in the mud.

He was pretty sure some of his organs were missing, a dozen bones were fractured, and everything in general hurt like a bitch.

He was breathing heavily, unable to really see where he was going until he felt someone grab him from behind and press something to his throat.

He whimpered from the pain, as he heard screaming coming from all around him.

Everything started to get too loud very quickly and that’s what broke the gates.

The first sob was so loud it even surprised himself.

Tears weren’t running down because of the dehydration, but his sobs were so heartbreaking and loud that he felt the guy behind him release his grip on him.

 He fell on his knees, hugging himself and pressing his forehead against the ground.

After a while, the commotion around him stopped, and he felt someone rubbing his back in circles. Danny appreciated the attempts to console him, but he suddenly really, really needed to throw up.

[owuwi]

SHAUNA SHIPMAN.ᐟ

➤ dom!teen!shauna x afab!sub!reader

⤷ cw: shauna taking her anger out on reader, mean shauna, bitting, shauna spitting on reader's face, rough fingering, a bit of dumbification, kinda dubcon if you squint..

──────────────────────

Fuck them.

Fuck all of them—fuck Mari, fuck Nat, fuck Tai.

But specially Mari.

If that bitch got mad because of some spit in her soup, then she doesn't even know what Shauna is capable of doing. A week of house arrest as consequence for smashing Mari's face against the ground? She can handle that; after all, she's been through worst.

Shauna wasn't surprised when you ran after her, though, she was hoping you'd do it.

The minute you stepped foot in her shelter, her chapped lips were on yours—kissing you with bruising force, a kiss that would've disgusted you if it wasn't coming from your girlfriend—.

She didn't hesitate to basically throw you onto the floor and climb on top of you, not once separating her lips from yours. Shaky and warm hands quickly slid beneath the dirty clothes you were wearing with raw desperation, dry palms groping every inch of skin they had access to.

"Shauna hold on—" You tried to speak yet it was useless, she wasn't in the mood to talk. "Shut up. I don't want to fucking hear you." She growled the moment she—miraculously—pulled away from the kiss. Her lips then traveled down and hovered over your throat, sharp teeth digging in and bitting you. Hard.

Your scream of pain only fueled that deep hunger she had and she didn't even care if someone heard. Her hands proceeded to pull your shorts and panties down, revealing your cunt.

Her fingers found your clit and started drawing quick, harsh circles on the bud—her teeth still holding onto the sensitive skin of your neck with enough strength to cause you to bleed.

"Fucking bitch... i'll give her something to be mad about..." She babbled against your flesh—clearly talking about Mari—, a mix of her saliva and your blood now beginning to dribble down and stain your shirt.

Suddenly, her fingers brushed against your folds before dipping past your hole, not wasting a second before she started sliding them in and out of you—not caring if you weren't wet enough—. Despite the burning feeling the invasion of her digits were causing you, you couldn't help but feel a hint of pleasure.

Shauna could beat the life out of you and you'd still like it.

"She can't handle some spit mhm? What a fucking moron.." She rambled, though she pulled her mouth away from your neck after finishing her sentence—no longer slobbering all over you—. "You can, though, right?" She abruptly asked you yet didn't wait for your answer before she spat right on the middle of your face.

The feeling of her warm, thick saliva splattering all over your face immediately caused a whine to slip past your lips, your hips unconsciously bucking against her fingers—the tip of her digits lightly pressing against that spongey spot that turned you dumb—.

Shauna didn't care if you responded or not, she simply kept talking—knowing you were listening. "Yeah you can, you always take everything i give you..." She whispered, her breath coming in short puffs while she sped up her fingers.

The vulgar act of her spitting on you made your pussy wetter than it has ever been—gods, you loved it when Shauna went feral on you.

It was now easier for her long fingers to thrust into you; the lewd, squelching sounds your cunt made as it swallowed her digits were loud enough for the other girls to hear—yet once again, she didn't care.

It didn't take long before you started to tighten around her, her strokes becoming sloppier as your arousal slowly traveled down your thighs. Your hand wrapped around her forearm as your eyes rolled to the back of your head, the combination of her fingerfucking you and talking to you like that making your brain fuzzy.

"S-Shauna..." You whined out her name, your back arching off the cold floor and your hand gripping her forearm rougher than before.

Shauna being Shauna just couldn't get enough of you—she needed more; more of your sounds, of your reactions, and she knew how to get them.

Slowly, she added a third finger into your spasming hole; the sight of you jolting and moaning being the reason for her smirk.

Was it too much? Definitely. Yet, for some reason, the pain felt too good.

"Take it, i know you can." She told you—almost commanding you—before leaning down and messily kissing you again while she stretched you out.

Before you could warn her, your body shook. A loud, breathy moan erupted from your throat as your orgasm hit you like a damn train. Whimpering against her mouth, you couldn't help but trash around beneath her as your walls fluttered against her fingers—the stimulation you were receiving causing tears to swell up in the corner of your eyes.

The brown-eyed girl's problems immediately faded away as you came. Even with how rough she was being, you were the most important thing in her life—the only thing she had left. You knew how to make her feel better and the best part was that you didn't even need to do anything.

She dragged her lips away from yours and pressed them all over your face, leaving a wet trail in their path, before slowly pulling her fingers out of your drooling pussy.

Shauna will get back at them one of these days—she'll make them regret treating her like shit—, but not today.

Right now, you were all that mattered.