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#tw; revenge
terrence-silver · 2 months
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How would Terry react if his beloved said they feel like a prostitute bc he's spoiling them all the time ( with presents, vacations and whatever) and refuses his presents or give them back to him?
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We've seen Terry Silver preform almost every sort of foul act under the sun but slutshasming.
So, the fact beloved does it to themselves? Inconceivable!
Like, he'd legitimately be infuriated and demand to know who was it that filled their head with something so dumb because he's convinced they couldn't have come up with it all on their own and the moral guilt stems from somewhere outside of themselves, or rather, from someone outside of themselves. It's usually the case. Nobody's feeling tremendously bad about flying a gas guzzling, air-polluting private jet until Greenpeace comes along to remind them they should feel bad. That's just the truth. He knows. Actually, he tends to feel better about flying a gas guzzling, air-polluting private jet precisely because Greenpeace criticized and protested him that week on the streets of LA, but that's neither here nor there. As such, Terry's convinced it was someone being jealous. Envious of everything he's giving and affording beloved. Someone looking to piss on beloved's sunshine. Someone looking to piss on him! Was it the way beloved was raised? Was it some green eyed punk somewhere convincing them of this bullshit behind his back? He genuinely wants to know who or what it was! He genuinely wants revenge on them, be they a person or a concept! He's outright angry, probably telling beloved they should snap out of this crap and start enjoying life immediately, or more precisely, the life they have by his side because he's smart enough to know who deserves what out of him, why and when. For how long. He's smart enough to differentiate who's a whore and who isn't (and he's undoubtedly been with enough of them to know) and in any regard, even if beloved was a whore, they're his and he decides what label he's going to ascribe them, not someone else, not even beloved themself, in fact.
That privilege is his alone.
If he tells you you're a robot, you're a robot.
And if he tells you you're the apple of his eye, you're the apple of his eye.
If he tells you to take pleasure in soaking in a jacuzzi, eating strawberries dipped in chocolate washed down with some expensive champagne, guess what --- you'll take pleasure in it. He can suggest nicely or he can just give you a wordless look and you'll know he expects you to do as you're told.
Returning his gifts and rebuking his generosity on this principle of shame only results in even more anger out of him.
If beloved doesn't want the presents he gave them then those presents might as well not exist because you see, their purpose is now obsolete from his point of view, which means, he's very likely to just destroy whatever it was beloved gave back in front of beloved's own eyes as a way to teach a rather sadistic lesson in gratitude and he'll do so with the utmost relish and glee. Terry undoubtedly smiles ramming his fist into the protective glass of a Rolex watch because that Rolex is pointless and worthless unless beloved likes it and wears it. Didn't want it? Thought it's making you into a hooker? So be it. Now you're something worse than a hooker and you're being gaslit into feeling actual shame because you're needlessly wasteful and costing him millions of dollars in mangled gifts. Not that he cares. But you do. And that's what matters here. For all intents and purposes, he's having a sick amount of fun. You're to blame. The consequences are on you. Wanna be difficult? Okay, so be difficult then. Be it an expensive car, revenue, jewelry, clothing, man will find ways to just ruin whatever it was that was shoved back into his keeping to provide the understanding that there's extreme consequences, to, as he sees it, rejecting his generosity --- said consequences stemming anywhere from demolished cars, smashed jewelry, furniture used instead of punching dummies, torn designer clothes, flats (mysteriously) burning down in the night and my god, if this man ever gave beloved a private island, that private island might just end up as a garbage quarry for his next toxic waste dumping ground. Who's to tell? None of this would've happened if beloved simply, oh, I don't know, loved his presents. Suffice to say Terry Silver doesn't have the moral quandaries most people have. To him money functions under the simple equation of 'I have it = I splash it because I can.' When someone starts acting stupid around his lavishness and open handedness, it tends to push his buttons and when he feels his buttons pushed, he tends to retaliate in the most juvenile, almost childlike way imaginable, control being threatened and things escalating to some unhinged levels.
He won't even flinch when he's accused of it. He's self-aware. He knows what he's doing because he's doing it on purpose and what's worse, he likes it. He likes the chaos and he likes the destruction. He'll grin through his teeth even as he does it and confesses to doing it. Even as he makes beloved watch what they brought about through their actions. But, it's not all giggles and cackling even as Terry kicks, punches. elbows and practices his Tang Soo Do on the windows, the hood and the shiny, color coated plating of the newest sport's car beloved felt uncomfortable about. Thing is, this all stems from a place of hurt and offense too.
He wanted to do so many lovely things for beloved.
And now that they don't want him to, he'll do bad things instead until they beg him to stop.
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kuroki--kaze · 3 months
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100 days of Headcanon || Day 3: Dreams
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⋆୨𖤓୧⋆ Kaze dreams of a world without Chaos. A world that can end the violence and the war can end because that's how he sees this battle against Chaos. A war, but before that it was the death of his Counterpart, White Cloud.
Kaze slept for twelve years and his sleep was wrought with nightmares of his home world being destroyed over and over and each time it was in a different way. He's seen Windaria fall to ashes at the hands of that damnable dragon of Chaos and he's seen it fall to the hands of White Cloud.
His memory is a messy painting that only clears itself up in certain situations and it took White Cloud's death at the hands of Earl Tyrant for Kaze to see that he wasn't to culprit that destroyed his home and killed his sister.
The situation was actually quite the opposite. It took Kaze seeing the man's corpse to get him to understand that The Cloud had been fighting to help him the entire time. Even now, Kumo still does and it has taken a lot of effort on Kaze's part to understand that due to the fractured state of his mind.
He still dreams of horrible wicked things and sometimes his dreams don't always show him the truth.
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horrorhare · 2 months
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REVENGE ERA JUMPSCARE
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moechies · 5 months
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tw dark content heavy infantilization, smut
boys who baby you so much it's so suffocating </3
・゚✧ boys who wake you up in the morning with soft kisses against your pantie covered cunt, tracing the outline of your squishy lips and drawing hearts on your clit <3
・゚✧ boys who kiss n suck on your tits so gently that it's not enough, slightly warning you with a light squeeze to your wrists when you keep on squirming, 'i know sweet girl, s just a bit more.'
・゚✧ boys who endlessly finger you, telling you that it's because he's prepping you for his overwhelming cock.. when you're borderline begging n begging for him but he just won't give it to you!
・゚✧ and finally, boys who barely slide their thick tip inside your sweet hole, just to get off on only that! he thinks little girls like you aren't made to take such big cocks, n makes you cry for him to push in deeper. but he denies it, saying, ‘you aren't ready baby.. this is for the best..’
౨ৎ mahito, oikawa tooru, tendou satori, nagi seishirou, meguru bachira, ran haitani, draken ryuguji <3
(n more i cannot think rn ahahahwjw bye)
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hayden-christensen · 13 days
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STAR WARS WEEK 2024 DAY 2: TRILOGY WARS - FAVOURITE TRILOGY ▸ THE PREQUEL TRILOGY (1999-2005)
What if I told you that the Republic was now under the control of the dark lord of the Sith?
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uncanny-tranny · 6 months
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"Treatment" for addiction that requires you to lock up, confine, coerce, or otherwise strip addicts of their autonomy, it isn't treatment. It is a revenge fantasy that prioritizes your desire for subjugation over the actual betterment of addicts.
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i had to
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kzuhae · 1 month
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𝓑𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝓕𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃’𝐒 𝓑𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑(𝓢)!
── SANO BROTHERS┊TOKYO REVENGERS
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premise. emma sano’s brothers are off limits, no matter how much you want them— or how much they want you.
content. sano brothers / f!reader. smut. dark content. best friend’s older brother(s) trope. mini series : three parts. age gap (1, 4 and 11 years). reader has known the brothers since childhood. dubcon. manipulation / coercion. virginity loss. car sex. drug use (cigarettes). petnames. drummer!izana. pervert / creep!sano brothers. penetrative sex. no protection. alcohol. band!tenjiku. corruption. possessive behaviour.
more specific tags found in each fic’s description.
interactions & reblogs are appreciated .ᐟ ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა
¹new message from jia ෆ sano brothers have my heart btw
comment if you want to be on the taglist! (must be 18+)
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── AM I YOUR TYPE, PRETTY? c. 2009
⌗ emma’s brother, manjiro sano : one year older.
content. smut. dubcon. alcohol. drunk / tipsy sex. car sex. unprotected sex. manipulation ++. coercion. virginity loss. fingering (f). pervert!mikey. marking. slight childhood friends. edging. reader is shorter than mikey. praise &&. a little degradation.
you told emma your feelings for her older brother weren’t anything serious— but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her, right?
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── LET ME HEAR YOU SCREAM! c. 2011
⌗ emma’s brother, izana kurokawa : four years older.
content. smut. dubcon. unprotected sex. manipulation ++. coercion. hair pulling. fingering (f). pervert!izana. slight vouyerism &&. exhibitionism. marking. mild choking. nipple play. degradation ++. praise. riding. improper use of instruments. izana has a tongue piercing.
after mikey, you swore you would never fuck another one of emma’s brothers— but maybe one time with izana is okay. . . ?
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── WE’RE NOT SLEEPING TONIGHT. c. 2015
⌗ emma’s brother, shinichiro sano : eleven years older.
content. smut. dubcon. drug use. unprotected sex. manipulation ++. coercion. fingering (f). pervert!shinichiro. creampie. oral (f). doggy / prone bone. marking. praise. squirting. edging. overstimulation. service dom!shinichiro. tummy bulge. creampie / breeding kink. missionary.
shinichiro’s tactics won’t work on you now that you’ve been through his brothers, but who do you think they learned it from?
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2024 © property of KZUHAE. all rights reserved. no reposts · plagiarism · ai usage · translations or promo outside of tumblr !! 𐚁
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hannahstinks666 · 3 months
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rubbish78 · 10 months
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Gerard Way live at Taste Of Chaos 2005 (x)
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terrence-silver · 1 year
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What would Terry’s reaction be to finding Beloved with another man?…
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---
Of course his first instinct was to kill. Maim.
Avenge. Mainly himself.
Settle scores.
Achieve prime control by digging his fingers into your neck until your ligaments snapped in half and then deal with the lowlife punk schmuck you were shacked up with at The Montrose, downtown West Hollywood. Destroy their mediocre little life, one bit at a time until they begged for release he wouldn't give them. Margaret, by extension of his private investigators told him exactly where to find you. The location to where you were tracked. Followed, when you thought you were being clever, unseen, outsmarting everyone, never realizing his many eyes were always on you.
He takes the Rolls Royce there.
Has his chauffeur driving him out. The aesthetic choice was deliberate. He'd go down there calmly, in high style, a man of the world, well dressed, poised, like he was doing no more and no less than attending some high stakes business meeting. A conference. And he was, in a sense. Revenge was business and his business was revenge, today of all days, as he calmly strides of the stairs on the third floor, polished leather shoes against the floorboards, adjusting his golden cufflinks, the puzzled front desk receptionist at the dingy hotel eyeing him like he just saw the fucking Pope enter the venue premises. Yeah, it is simple as knocking on the door marked AB19 and you open, thinking he's room service undoubtedly, find yourself in a state of partial undress, wrapped in a bathrobe, looking pale. Terry was convinced it was a far greater fright to come face to face with him than being caught cheating. But he's cool, simply grabbing the door's frame from the top, using his height to his advantage once you try to close it shut in front of him and he strides past you with ease, looking for a chair to sit down on, inviting himself inside, never asking for permission, pulling a monogrammed silken handkerchief under himself as he does, sprawling it out, as not to get sullied, the keys to your room promptly tossed on a nearby end table with a metallic, resounding clamor that shook the foyer.
There's a creature on the bed, just like Terry knew there would be, rolled in post-coital bedsheets, looking even more befuddled than you were; an emotion clearly replaced by fear once the door shuts behind his stride and two realize you were just caught. What? Did he interrupt something? Terry crosses his legs, nonchalant. He would deal with this punk later. It would be a pleasure.
-"C'mon! Don't stop on my account."- He fishes a golden cigar box out of his inside pocket, ensuring that the suit he wore was the picture of flattery on him, looking for a cutter and a lighter, pushing the tobacco between his lips, nonplussed. He already broke half of the furniture back at the mansion earlier today when his detective handed him the photographs of you with this...thing, staring at him from the mattress, shaken. He got ahold of himself by the time he arrived here, hot waves of wrath rolling off of him until there was nothing left but stony determination. Now was the time to play his frosty disposition and play it masterfully. -"I wanna watch."- Terry utters that line like it was nothing at all, and it wasn't anything at all. He's watched people fuck before. People watched him fuck before too. He's just never watched someone that was his fuck someone else before, was all. That's why all his discipline is employed, never to show an emotion. Never show mercy. Not now.
-"Terry, I, how..."- You stutter uncomfortably, finally able to muster a word or two, still processing he was here at all. Least of all, that he was asking what he was asking.
-"I said, I wanna watch."-
He repeats, matter-of-factly, feeling himself grow icy cold at the idea his explicit order was being questioned at all, letting the smoke bellow out of his nostrils in floating circles, pointing a ring finger vaguely at the nobody fucktard you choose to do him in with. How your standards have fallen. You wanted to learn a thing or two about humiliation? Fair enough. Terry Silver was here to do the teaching. This would be one of many demonstrated lessons. The first one. The prologue. Round one in the ringer.
-"So? Put on a good live performance."-
He twirls his hand in the air for emphasis, relishing in your embarrassment, so thick he could practically cut it with a knife and eat it for breakfast with an entrée followed by the main course in the form of your bleeding heart, feeling his jaw tighten to the point he could imagine himself capable of biting through the concrete walls of the room filled with cold anger, eyes searching for an ashtray and in finding none, he simply allows the searing residue from his cigar to fall on the carpet along with a curtain of red embers. He could burn this whole place down and he'd be fully justified in doing so. But, no, Terry didn't deal in impulsive anger. Terry only got angry when he decided it was time to --- deciding when it was useful --- and now wasn't the time. He ironically needed to be perfectly level headed now. And so, he was.
-"Terry, listen, we can go outside and I can explain ---"-
You try desperately to placate him and your creature scurries nervously, collecting their shit from strewn over the floor, ready to run. Make a dash for it. -"I'll leave, man."- They make a pathetic attempt and fail. -"Bullshit you will. Class isn't dismissed and recess hasn't started."- Terry doesn't raise his voice, refusing to blink. Doesn't give anyone in the room the satisfaction of finding him affected and out of control. Instead, he adjusts himself and sinks deeper into the trusted old cuck chair --- of course every hotel had one, but this time, he tended to see it as the seat of command, pointing at the bed, refusing to address the creature personally, instead, doing it through you as mouthpiece, courier and vessel. -"You tell them, they'll be a good robot. Do exactly as programmed."- Terry instructs, never taking his eyes off of you. Sure, yes, he considered violence as his first incentive, but this? This was so much better. You wanted to be an adulterer and now it was your chance do to what an adulterer did best, with him as witness and coordinator, learning a lesson you'd never forget; that regardless what you did, you belonged to him. Now and always. -"And after you're done,"- He warns, wagging his finger. -"You'll pack all your crap up and you're coming home with me."- Disbelief. Terry reads disbelief in your eyes when faced with those words. Like a part of you thought that fucking someone else would finally liberate you from him as your last way out. That you'd get rid of him. That he'd be disgusted, angry and done with you to the degree you'd walk free, even if walking free came with certain amounts of pain stemming from his ire, truly showing how desperately you wanted freedom at any cost. If that was your reason behind tactically doing this then you were dead wrong --- you grossly miscalculated --- because giving you exactly what you wanted was too damn easy.
No.
You'd stay right where you belonged --- with him.
Denied of the very thing you were reaching for forever.
And Terry would enjoy that so much. That would be his revenge.
-"Chop-chop! Get to work."- Terry claps his hands, balancing his cigar between his index and middle finger, mustering a dry chuckle, feeling himself like spectator at the Kentucky Derby bidding on a race horse from the jam-packed audience, watching you exchange silently horrified glances with the schmuck on the bed who was still trying to figure out if this was real or an elaborate joke. Was no joke. Didn't you tell them about him? No? Terry wanted to watch you fuck the prick. He wanted it to last long. Torturously so. Terry wanted you to feel his gaze on you as you did, unable to escape. Feel every bit of discomfort, unease, objectification and suffering you could until you finally tapped the fuck out and found that this was only the beginning. That there was his car waiting downstairs and that you'd be going back with him. That you would pay for what you've done. That you'd realize what 'nothing is for free' really meant. That he would ensure your paid your dues for this betrayal with every inch of your being until it left a mark on your very soul. When you refuse to move, Terry decides, now's the time to raise his voice and his tone is laced with crude laughter as he does once both you and the shmuck nearly jump out of your skins. -"With conviction!"- Terry yells, as you reluctantly approach the bed, finally moving, even if it was at a snail's pace, wholly shaken and shivering. He smiles. Good. Perfect. This would hurt you, sure. But, no more than it would hurt him.
He takes another long, hard drag out of his cigar, filling the room with smoke.
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horrorhare · 1 month
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PARTY LIKE ITS 2004!!
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s4no · 8 months
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TOKREV: STONER HCS
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+ feat: ken ryuuguji, keisuke baji, mitsuya takashi, hanma shuji, seishu inui, sanzu haruchiyo, wakasa imaushi & shinichiro sano
+ cw: fem!reader, drugs (weed + cigarettes), nsfw themes (ptv, cockwarming)
+ summary: ever wonder what they're like when they get high?
+ a/n: i am smoking a blunt while writing this so ignore the typos
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ಇ  𝗞𝗘𝗡 𝗥𝗬𝗨𝗨𝗚𝗨𝗝𝗜. after a long day of grueling work, draken likes to relax by smoking a blunt. he'll roll it after he's locked up his shop and walk into your apartment with it behind his ear, his forehead and fingers smudged with motor oil. it's become part of your routine to walk up to him as he places it between his lips and light it for him, watching him take a hit and blow the smoke out to the side. you two pass it back and forth while he cleans up in the bathroom, and then relocate to the living room once he's done, lounging on the couch while discussing your day. the more he smokes, the closer he gets, subconsciously closing the distance and gravitating toward you. he gets touchy when he's high, and you hum as calloused hands absentmindedly wander over the curves and valleys of your body, tracing abstract shapes into your skin. and when you run out of things to talk about, you sit two there in a comfortable silence, merely enjoying each other's presence.
ಇ  𝗞𝗘𝗜𝗦𝗨𝗞𝗘 𝗕𝗔𝗝𝗜. the first thing baji likes to do when he wakes up is smoke, especially if it's the weekend. you'll wake up to him packing the bong, bathed in golden light pouring in through the window. "mornin', kitten." he grins down at you, sharp canines poking past his bottom lip, "wake and bake?" the rips he takes from the bong are impressive, and when you try to copy him, you inevitably end up coughing and sputtering. he always snickers and takes the bong from of your hands, rubbing his palm over the center of your chest. "breathe, baby, breathe." by the time you manage to catch your breath, he's finished packing another bowl— one that he single-handedly smokes before finally getting out of bed. without fail, his stomach rumbles and he shoots you a sheepish look, "you want breakfast? i'll make pancakes." throwing the covers off you, you run after him to the kitchen, knowing he'll most likely start a fire if you aren't there to help.
ಇ  𝗧𝗔𝗞𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗜 𝗠𝗜𝗧𝗦𝗨𝗬𝗔. mitsuya mainly smokes in social settings. whenever someone offers him a joint at a party, he always accepts it with a gracious smile. surprisingly, a little weed makes him even more charismatic than usual, and he's able to entertain the whole room without even trying. but he walks a fine line because once he's true and properly stoned, he becomes more introverted and ends up clinging to you like a lost puppy. you'll be dancing in the middle of the floor and he'll walk up to you and just throw his arms around you. "you high, babe?" you giggle, leading him toward the couch. "mhm, feel really good." he hums, and the next thing you know, he's pulled you down onto the sofa and buried his head in your chest. "so comfy.." it doesn't matter that his antics attract the stares of other partygoers, he will cuddle you in front of everybody and he'll do it without a hint of shame.
ಇ  𝗦𝗛𝗨𝗝𝗜 𝗛𝗔𝗡𝗠𝗔. hanma will swear up and down that nothing's better than a cigarette after sex. but sometimes, he takes it step beyond that— rolling a fat blunt and lighting it up while you two lay naked in bed. he's never embodied his tattoo more than he does when he blows the smoke out from his nose; he's the personification of sin and temptation with the blunt perched between his fingers. he offers it to you but when you go to take it from him, he lifts it up out of your reach. "you want a hit, doll?" there's a smirk on his face as he blows the smoke directly into your face, and it only grows when you start to pout. "open." you follow the simple command without hesitation and you're rewarded for it when he brings the blunt to your parted lips, holding it for you while you inhale. he doesn't miss the way your eyes turn glassy from the high. in fact, it makes him hard all over again and by the time he's putting out the roach on the ashtray, he's ready for round two.
ಇ  𝗦𝗘𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗨 𝗜𝗡𝗨𝗜. inui has a couple of guilty pleasures and one of them is smoking right before bed. he'll pick out an indica that's sure to help him sleep and pack his bowl full of it. you can visibly see the tension leech out of his body, his shoulders sagging lower with every hit he takes. most nights, he'll doze off after finishing it, but if he manages to stay awake long enough for you to join him in bed, he'll pull you close and wrap his arms around you. soft lips pepper kisses against the crook of your neck, and when you laugh and tell him it tickles, he tightens his hold on you and starts sucking a bruise into your skin. "this tickle too?" he murmurs, knowing damn well what he's doing. his hands slip beneath your shirt, squeezing your tits and playing with your nipples until they're poking through the fabric. then, he sheathes himself inside of you, making you warm his cock while he drifts off to sleep.
ಇ  𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗨𝗖𝗛𝗜𝗬𝗢 𝗦𝗔𝗡𝗭𝗨. sanzu is all about optimizing his pleasure and one way he does this is by smoking while he fucks you. you'll be on your hands and knees, back bent into a pretty arch as he thrusts against your backside. his pace is steady but brutal, one hand gripping your hip while the other lifts the joint to his lips. "mm, fuck.." he groans, voice raspy (from the smoke or how tightly you're squeezing him, you're not sure). "that's it— haah, yeah, that's it, angel. take this fuckin' cock." if he's feeling generous, he'll lean over you and extend the joint out for you to take a hit, but oftentimes, you're being fucked too hard to even think about accepting the offer. if, on the off chance, you are able to take a hit or two, you severely start to struggle holding yourself up. but he takes it in stride, pushing you down so your stomach is flat against the bed, cheek pressed against the sheets. "there you go, just lay down and take it."
ಇ  𝗪𝗔𝗞𝗔𝗦𝗔 𝗜𝗠𝗔𝗨𝗦𝗛𝗜. not only is wakasa a stoner, but he's also a plug. he stays stocked up with flower, wax, and cartridges; and he has a revolving door of customers at his disposal with tokyo university located half an hour away. he smokes several times a day every day, and he's built up an insane tolerance as a result. when you come over to hang out, he'll easily face a blunt while giving you your own to hit as you please. "you tryna keep up with me, princess? don't overdo it." but really, he wouldn't mind if you did. you're so cute when you're high out of your mind, so pliant in his hands. his teasingly lips brush over yours, so lightly it can hardly be considered a kiss, before he shotguns the smoke into your awaiting mouth. though, if you truly do start to get too faded, he'll pluck the blunt right out of your hands and put it out. "aht," he chides, "that's enough. can't have you greenin' out on me, can i?"
ಇ  𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗜𝗖𝗛𝗜𝗥𝗢 𝗦𝗔𝗡𝗢. shinichiro is a lightweight compared to his best friend, not because he doesn't have access to weed, but because he really only smokes it on special occasions. for his last birthday, wakasa brought over some wax and shinichiro could only blink when his friend pulled a blow torch out from his bag. after some convincing, he took several hits, but he nearly coughed up a lung in the process. that was the highest you've ever seen your boyfriend— too stoned to even keep his head from falling over against his shoulders. "you good, shin?" he nods slowly in response, eyelids drooping as if they're being weighed down by something heavy. he stayed on the couch for the rest of the day, asking you to make him something to eat every couple of hours. "shit.." he mutters to himself, "food really does taste better when you're high." you and wakasa got quite the kick out of his blissed out state.
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hayden-christensen · 2 years
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Blade-to-blade, they were identical. After thousands of hours in lightsaber sparring, they knew each other better than brothers, more intimately than lovers; they were complementary halves of a single warrior.
OBI-WAN KENOBI and ANAKIN SKYWALKER Obi-Wan Kenobi - Part V (2022)  Star Wars: Episode III - Revenge of the Sith (2005) 
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highpri3stess · 3 months
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Monsters: Mikey Sano x Reader x Izana Kurokawa
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Chapter 2: Shots Fired
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pairing: Mikey Sano x Fem Reader x Izana Kurokawa
series summary: Your grievous sin was Emma standing up for you to her brothers. And now you’re going to pay the heavy price for destroying their perfect family dynamic.
chapter summary: izana kurokawa decides he has to teach you a bitter lesson that you wouldn't forget any time soon
chapter warning: 18+ dark content, misogyny, religious themes, smoking, mention of drugs, brief description of child abuse, childhood trauma and sex work, violence (against both character and reader), emotional incest, night terrors, allusions to sex, sexual harrassment, mention and brief description of rape, asphyxiation (non sexual), manipulation, slut shaming, near death experience, sexual assault, noncon, oral (m.recieving), face and throat fucking, attempted murder
Please read ending credits for important annoucement
wc: 7.5k
masterlist||chapter 1||chapter 3
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  IZANA mindlessly fiddled with his lighter as he leaned on the wall, waiting diligently for Emma.
Unlit cigarette between his lips, his purple eyes scanned the people leaving the English department one by one, hoping to find a mop of golden hair amongst the students. A small vivienne Westwood shopping bag hung between his fingers loosely, perched beside his faded out black jeans. There was no way that Emma would avoid him in public at least, not with the entire student population watching the both of them. He knew that his little sister hated being the subject of rumors, no matter how trivial it could be.
His plan has to work. It just has to.
Whatever bullshit Mikey was spewing about you being the key to getting Emma to speak to him, can go to hell. He and Emma had a strong bond that transcended anything casual. This was his little sister he watched for the first eight years of his life, a bond doesn’t just break like that. Not over a stranger.
Not over you. Over your dead body.
A few minutes passed and still no sign of Emma. Deciding that he didn’t want to stand around and gape like a moron, Izana lifted his lighter towards his cigarette, flicking the light twice and bringing the warm flame to his lips. Breathing in the familiar scent of nicotine, smoke filled his lungs as he tucked the lighter back in his pockets. His free hand took the cigarette from his lips and he exhaled, releasing plumes of smoke from his lips.
His smoking habit had gotten worse within the past week. Izana couldn’t help it, reaching for a light anytime he saw his gifts in the dustbin. Emma hasn’t been this angry at him for more than a day before, usually a new plushie was enough to wash his sins clean, no matter how grevious they were. Now, not even the most expensive shoes she’s been eyeing for months could satiate her anger.
All because of you.
Izana knows his little sister like the back of his hand. Like how she loved sleeping with plushies because it comforted her whenever their mother brought men into the house and they were loud. Or how he picked up a guitar to learn multiple barbie songs because their mother had destroyed Emma’s CD that he bought with his money to punish her. He knew she liked warm tea during her periods and gentle back rubs to ease her pain.
Izana knows he’s not the best person to be around. Emma may have been young when she left their mother’s home, but Izana had stayed there until his teens before going to the orphanage, enduring unimaginable horrors. Life hardened him, made him so jaded that the only thin thread connecting him to his humanity was Emma.
And little by little, his humanity was slipping away.
First it was Mikey’s stupid friend, Ken Ryugi, who waltzed his way into Emma’s life. Izana didn’t like him one bit- didn’t like how Emma would bite her lip, waiting for him to reply and cry herself to sleep when he didn’t. Her heart was soft, fragile and that brute tore it apart by telling her he wasn’t interested in a relationship yet. The only reason Ken wasn’t in an unmarked, shallow grave in the middle of nowhere was simply because Mikey was involved.
Now it was you. Taking the space in her life that belonged to him and him only. He was fine sharing with his younger brother, no matter how much that little shit pisses him off but now, you’re pushing both of them out of the equation. How could someone so insignificant be so important to his sister?
He took more puffs, letting the smoke out through his mouth. He skimmed throughout the campus once again, nervousness creeping onto his consciousness with every passing moment. Had he missed Emma?
‘Has she gone to her room already? Don’t tell me I missed her-’
His thoughts were cut short the second he caught sight of a familiar blonde hair bouncing in the wind. He stood up straight tossing the cigarette to the floor and crushing it underneath his black shoes, before rushing to catch up to his little sister.
Izana pushed through the throng of people, violently shoving anyone that got in his way until he finally fell in step with her, slowing down to match her pace. Without wasting time, his hand curled around the girl’s wrist, stopping her in her tracks instantly. A shocked gasp escaped her lips, her head twisting fast and her free hand even faster to hit him.
“Get off me - Izana?”
Her hand stopped mid air, inches away from the smirking male’s face. He noticed her tension leave her body, relief washing over her, only for irritation to take its place on her face, instantly displeased at his actions. “What the hell? I’ve told you to stop doing that.” she hissed at him.
A mischievous grin made its way to his face at Emma’s irritation. She always had a pout whenever she was angry at him and it made look even more adorable.
“Were you scared?” He teased her, pulling Emma closer to him until she was practically smushed at his side, his arm hugging her tight despite the irritated glare she gave him in response. “You know that as long as I’m alive, no one guy would ever have the balls to hurt you. Unless they want to die.”
“Stop joking about things like that.”
‘I’m not.’
Shaking his head, he decided to change the topic to what he came here for originally. “Here I got you something for your…” he sneered at the thought of Draken being near his little sister. “date with Draken.” He released her from his side hug before extending the perfume bag to her with a smug look on his face. “It’s Vivienne Westwood, your favorite.”
His hand hung in the air as Emma trailed her pointed glare from his hand, back to his cheerful visage. She crossed her arms in response slowly, her yellow eyes rapidly looking at the bag to his face before her lips curled into a sick sneer.
“Are you insane?”
“What?”
“Don’t ‘what?’ me Izana! How many times have I told you that this is not a situation you can bribe me out of! Not this time!”
Emma’s voice was loud enough to garner wandering eyes of other by-standers, watching the event go down. They were wise enough to hide that they were staring, so as not to piss Izana off even further after she left.
Izana kept his composure, still holding out the bag towards Emma with a smile -albeit stiffer than before. ‘She’s just being emotional’ Izana whispered to himself, still trying to be rational. ‘Just take it easy with her’
“Easy Em, I said it was a joke” his words were smooth, buttery, flowing out of his lips like it was the truth. In his own opinion, you were the one in the wrong for wearing such a provocative outfit, showing your body off. He was just trying to tell you off so that you would be more decent next time when you’re around seniors. “I didn’t know your friend was that sensitive-”
“Are you listening to the bullshit coming from your stupid mouth?” Emma roared, her voice echoing throughout the entirety of the department, her face red with fury. Izana had never seen his own beloved sister ever look at him with such disgust in her eyes, her teeth gnashing against each other and hands at her side, clenching against each other. “Is that what you think a joke sounds like?”
“Calm the fuck dow-”
“No wonder you’re fucking single, you’re such a piece of shit to anyone that isn’t Shinichiro!” Emma screamed, interrupting Izana once again, her temper fiery enough to burn a hole on the ground she stood with how heated she was. “How does anyone even stand you for so long? You’re unbearable!”
“Excuse m-”
He doesn’t like where the conversation is going, with how furious Emma was right now. He tried to raise a comforting hand to Emma’s shoulder to ease her tension but she was quick to smack it away from her hard, stinging his fingers a little.
It hurt.
“You’re so unpleasant, how do you even have any friends? How do they tolerate you? To think (name) wanted me to forgive you! Thank god you aren’t my fucking brother, I can’t imagine being anything like you!”
The words left her mouth before she could stop herself.
It was as if the world froze over for Izana. He stood there, wide eyed, his heart beating loudly in his chest as all the voices around him faded into the background. His hand extended weakly at his side, mouth drying up as a lump formed in his throat. He can see the flash of regret in Emma’s eyes, the way her face changes when the weight of her words crushed the both of them.
Suddenly he was sixteen again, thirteen year old Mikey taking Emma’s place and uttering those soul-crushing words to him after another fight. It was just a silly xbox game that Shinichiro forced them to share, one of his many futile attempts to make them get along with each other. Izana remembered how he looked at all of them. Mikey. Emma. Shinichiro, hoping to god that it was spite that fueled Mikey’s words, not conviction.
“It’s not true right? Shin-nii? Em?”
The terrified look on Shinichiro’s face sealed Izana’s fate forever.
“I-I-i didn’t mean i-” she starts to stutter, tears gathering in her eyes. It’s obvious that she can recognize the heartbreak in his violent hues, blankly staring at her, disappointed. He wants to say something, but all that manages to come out is air. Of all the things she could say to him, why did it have to be this one?
“Izana please-”
He doesn’t let her finish, turning on his heel and walking as fast as possible. People were quick to clear out of his way, not wanting to be his target of aggression when he eventually snapped. He ignored Emma trying to reach him, shouting his name at the top of her lungs with strings of apologies as he walked back to where he bike sat.
“Izana, wait please-” she screamed from the crowd of people, tears streaming from her yellow eyes. He continued to ignore her as he hopped on his bike, sliding in the key and revving up the engine before she could reach him.
“Izana please I didn’t mean it! I’m so-”
Izana zoomed away, turning Emma’s cries into background noise.
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"THANK god you’re not my real brother.”
Izana narrowly avoided crashing his bike into the tree right next to the house, hitting the breaks just in time for the bike to stop.
‘It’s all that fucking bitch’s fault!’ He seethed ‘That useless excuse of a human being caused this.’
You. An unimportant little rat that scurries around his little sister. From the first day Izana set his eyes on you, an intense hatred filled his gut. You were just there, sitting awkwardly while Emma tried to involve you in their conversation and it irked him. He hated everything about you - the way you picked your finger when you were nervous. Your bright smile you gave to only Emma when you talked about the most mundane of things. The fact that Emma would cut short their outings just to see or meet up with you.
Just your mere presence in general. He couldn’t stand you. He couldn’t stand losing his beloved sister to you
Blinded with rage, Izana throws his helmet on the tree with a guttural scream, breaking it in half. Unsatisfied with his rage, he clenched his fist and stalked towards his fraternity house, ready to beat up the first person he set his eyes on.
The doors of the fraternity house were thrown open by Izana. Shion was the first person Izana just happened to set his eyes on, the blond carrying a box of tools in his arms as he headed towards Ran’s bedroom. The taller male turned his attention just as Izana was entering the house and smiled at him.
“Hey boss, did you see your lil si-”
Izana pounced on the poor man, sending the toolbox and a confused Shion to the ground, shattering the glass table underneath them. Ignoring the broken glass digging into his skin, Izana slammed his fists straight into Shion’s face, dealing him powerful blows, cursing you as he beat up Madarame.
“(name) you stupid slut. You ruined everything! I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you, I’ll kill you-”
“Izana!”
“Stop it! You’re gonna kill him.”
Two sets of hands pulled Izana off Shion, dragging him away from the injured man. Ran is quick to help Shion up from the floor, holding the barely conscious male up. Eyes burning with irritation, Ran turned his attention to Izana who was held back by Kakucho and Mucho, heavily breathing after his rage induced breakdown.
“Izana what the hell man?” Ran cursed at him. “He was supposed to help me set up my humidifier. Look what you did!”
“Let’s take it easy, Ran, it seems like Izana had a bad day.” Kakucho reasoned, still holding Izana away from lunging at Shion once again. “You know he’s only like this when he’s stressed-”
Ran put his free hand up, silencing Kakucho completely. His violet eyes moved to Izana who was still huffing and puffing, still in Kakucho and Muto’s grip. “Look.” Ran sighed out, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We don’t want to deal with this anymore, Izana. You can’t keep taking out your anger on us. Especially for that (name) girl.”
Izana growled, his teeth clenched against each other at Ran’s words. Deep down, he knew Ran was right. Each time he saw his gift in the dustbin, it would send him into a panic induced rage and end in hitting one of his friends. Beating up everyone that wasn’t you was not the solution at all. No matter how violent he got, it still wouldn’t change the fact that his sister doesn’t want him anymore.
And it is all your fault.
Eventually, Izana relaxed, breathing through his nose gently. The two men released Izana once he calmed down before helping Ran with the barely conscious Shion to his room. The white haired male now left to his devices, crashed onto the chair, his hands on his knees. If he was going to get his sister back, he had to do it right. Maybe teach you a bitter lesson that you would never forget. Punish you for angering him and changing his little sister into something else.
Anything really, to satiate his anger.
His hand fished out his phone from his pocket, going straight to his contacts. Purple eyes rested on a familiar name, one that he hadn’t spoken to for the past eight months after a hookup. She tried to elevate herself from a hookup to his main girl, texting him non-stop and throwing herself at him.
Pathetic.
Izana liked thrill and adventure. Women who were wild on the dance floor and even wilder in the sheets were his favorite, for the same reason he loved riling up Mikey. The dopamine rush.
Sex was a drug to him. Not necessarily a favorite, just something he got a high from that was different from cocaine or LSD. The experience was a thrill, bodies meshed together in bliss as they gave into carnality until they fell over the edge. It was why he couldn’t stay with the same girl all the time, eventually their holes get accustomed to his dick and they try forming attachments to him. It gets boring.
Like this one.
He dialed the number and not even up to a minute later someone picked it. “Izana! Hey babe!” She chirped. Izana bit back a groan to avoid voicing his displeasure. She was so fucking annoying. “It’s been so long. Do you want to see me tonigh-”
“You’re (name)’s roommate right?” He could hear her deflated sigh from the phone and decided to butter her up. “Don’t worry, she’s not my type. Just need her schedule for a friend.”
“You sure?”
Izana rolled his eyes before deepening his voice to lure her in. “Sure babe. You’re the one I wanna see tonight. I see the cute pictures you sent to me. The one with you wearing those cheetah print panties, your bare tits hanging out is my favorite.”
“Really?” She sounded so excited that he liked something she sent. Pathetic.
“Really.” he breathed out. “You should wear it when you come here tonight. That is, if you tell me about your roommate’s schedule.”
“Alright!” She began excitedly, the prospect of being Izana’s girl tonight looking very tantalizing, to the point she is willing to sell out her friend. “I’ll tell you everything I know baby!”
Izana shook his head. Too easy.
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  YOU haven’t been able to stay asleep for the past few days.
It’s easy to fall asleep after a hard and stressful day at school and your part-time job. Your limbs ache from all the walking and lugging a bookbag far heavier than what you could handle -since all your e-textbooks were on your (now destroyed) laptop and phones were not allowed during lectures. And working from 5pm until 9pm at a restaurant, serving food to rude, overbearing customers only to be paid in pieces was another added stress in itself. Not to mention, studying.
But then, in all your dreams, everything you’ve pushed to the back of your memory is at the forefront. Your dream starts typically, your normal school day, waking up, dressing in your cute little blue crop sweater and jean skirt with socks. You go to classes, and then you see Mikey’s car waiting for Emma.
Things take a different turn. He’s the one getting out of the car to meet you. It’s like a siren call, him holding out his hand for you to take despite someone screaming for you to stop. And you try to reject him, you try to run away like the voice said but you end up getting trapped.
But this time, he’s not using his hands. He’s fully sheathed inside you, robbing you of every thing you hold so dear and you kick, bite and claw at him until you wake up screaming, sweat soaked all over your sheets.
You consistently dream of being violently raped by Manjiro Sano.
The next few hours until sunrise were equally horrible. You’re quietly sobbing into your pillows, praying to God to forgive you for letting Mikey touch you in the first place, assuming your reason for having such dreams was God’s divine judgment for your grievous sin. You’ve lost count on how many Bible verses you stay up reading until your eyes are bleary and the sun comes up.
No matter how much you pray and how many times you recite psalms 127 before you sleep, you can never escape Mikey in the world of dreams. He’s a virus that has invaded your thoughts, corrupting every dream you had and twisted them into nightmares.
You don’t know how long you can hold on being this sleep deprived. It’s been impairing your school life, trying to find a way to stay awake during classes only for you to fall asleep and miss the rest of it. Even when you got notes from the person next to you, reading them was always difficult because your eyes hurt so much.
 Work was even more taxing and stressful, rush week adding more stress than you could ever imagine. You found yourself spacing out more than usual when you were supposed to be taking orders. You were unable to keep up with the fast paced environment, your body feeling like a ton of bricks with every moment you make. Your eyes were heavy lidded, tired from forcing them open throughout the day.
You were so, so tired-
“Hello! Are you sleeping on me young lady?” A voice snapped at you.
Your eyes shot open and immediately you stood back straight. You must have been dozing off while taking the older lady’s order -the very thing you’ve been trying to avoid all day long. “No, not at all Ms-” you started to explain. “-I was just … what was your order aga-”
You flinched when the woman angrily slammed her fist on the table, shutting you up instantly! “So you were sleeping on the job! What kind of establishment allows this?” She screamed, attracting the attention of customers around. “I need to speak to your manager. NOW!”
You instantly began to panic at the mention of your manager. If he heard you’ve been sleeping on the job, for sure he was going to fire you, especially when he was angry you rejected his advances on the first day. You cannot afford to lose this job right now, with all your school expenses and saving up money for next session’s tuition.
“No mam” you begged, keeping your voice even as you tried to reason with her. “Th-there’s no need for that! Please! Let me take your order and I’ll-” you racked your brain for an excuse, knowing fully well your establishment does not offer free meals. “- I’ll pay for your meal! On me-”
“So you’re trying to imply I’m poor?” She interrupted you again, her tempo even higher than before. “You disrespectful little wretch! How dare you? GET ME YOUR MANAGER RIGHT NOW!”
You started begging the older woman, trying to calm her down and de-escalate the situation, but each plea only fuelled her rage. By now, every customer, every employee and just anyone in that place watched you grovel and beg this woman to calm down, some people even videoing your altercation. Your body was trembling as she screeched in your ears, calling you all sorts of names while you relentlessly apologized to her.
“What is going on here?”
You winced at the sound of your manager’s voice emerging from the backrooms. You stood stiffly as he walked to your side, using his shoulder to nudge you out of the way. “Is there something wrong Ms.?” He asked the lady. “What happened?”
“This little wretch!” She practically screeched at you, her finger wagging straight at your hung face. “She was sleeping while I was ordering! And when I pointed it out to her calmly, she called me a hag!”
Your eyes snapped open. You can tolerate people yelling at you, but lying against you is out of the question. “I did not call you anything! That’s a lie-”
“You be quiet!” Your manager yelled at you, silencing you. He turned to face the woman again, apologizing profusely for your so called rude behavior. “I promise you mam, she will be dealt with accordingly. Your order is in the house, please take that as a token of our humble apology and forgive us.”
You stood there in shock as the woman smirked satisfactorily at her now free meal. “Well. You better get rid of her!” She snarked, eyes scanning you up and down, plopping back down on her seat. “Or you’ll lose me as a patron.”
“Of course mam.” He said sweetly before switching his countenance towards you into a more irritated one. “You, come with me.”
You lowered your head once again in disappointment as you started following your manager towards the back rooms, your head lowered in shame as the eyes followed your every move to your damnation waiting for you in the manager’s office.
Your skin crawled as you felt his gaze roam your body up and down, before regaining his composure again. “You know how many complaints I have received this week just from you, (name)? How many orders you’ve messed up?”
You shook your head no in response, not trusting yourself to say anything reasonable at this point. He eyes you up and down again before scoffing at you rudely. “I only let you stay here to see that tight virgin body of yours roam around. It’s not like you’re even good at this kind of job.” He spat out, rolling his eyes. “Unfortunately for you, this is the end of the road for you here. Change out of your uniform and leave.”
“But s-”
“I said you’re FIRED. GET OUT.”
You sighed weakly, obeying your now ex-manager’s order and leaving the office. You ignored the eyes of everyone watching you exchange the too tight black jeans and green top uniform back to your white bohemian skirt and light blue top with your white jacket. Calmly, you packed your school bag and everything you owned with you and slung it over your shoulder, replacing the uniform back to the locker, dropping the key on top.
No one said goodbye to you as you left through the back door.
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  THE walk back to your dorm was quiet.
By the time you managed to catch a bus after your walk of shame and get back to campus, almost everywhere was dark and deserted. Save for only the street lamps that were beginning to dim, everywhere else was darker than usual.
You had read that there was going to be a lunar eclipse tonight between the hours of 10pm - 12am. The time boldly written on the bus’ digital clock before you got down was 10:45pm, so you already assumed it was the cause of the unnatural darkness tonight.
A long time ago, things like this would have made you excited. You loved watching the stars when you were young, trying to check on the papers your father bought to see if there was any space news available. You remember borrowing your immediate elder brother’s binoculars as a makeshift telescope, trying to piece out the stars in the sky or see if you would catch a glimpse of the comet that was said to pass through that week.
Unfortunately, you were young and foolish. Wanting to impress your father, you told him all about your book of constellations that you drew up, detailing the first star that appeared every evening, down to your crazy childish theories about aliens and space.
“Can you show me the book?” your father had asked calmly. You should have known it was dangerous for your father to be this calm, but you were too blinded by excitement to think and you gave him the book, a bright smile on your face.
Your smile fell as his large hands ripped your book into shreds, before telling you “women don’t dream.”
Maybe that was the day you stopped loving your father. You were so young and impressionable, all you wanted was for him to be proud of you, like he was with his sons. Now, you can’t even look at the stars.
The memory leaves a bitter taste in your mouth and you try to shake it off as you continue on the path.
You wondered what grievous sin you’ve committed to be so down on your luck like this.
You passed by Emma’s dorm building, another sigh escaped your lips. She told you that Draken wanted to take her out for dinner tonight, which shocked you because friends with benefits - according to what Emma herself told you- don’t go on dates or do lovey dovey stuff with each other, to avoid complicated feelings from budding.
Then again, their relationship is based on the fact that they both have feelings for each other, but Draken was not interested in a relationship.
It was already complicated before it began.
Your eyes darted up to her window, hoping her lights were on. Whenever she was alone, Emma hated sleeping in the dark. She said it reminded her of the times her mother would lock her and Izana in a dark room whenever she brought her customers in. Anytime she was in a darkened room, she told you she could still hear the sound of her mother moaning and a man grunting. Izana would try his best to distract her, playing games or even stealing an earphone and plugging it to his own so that she would listen to music instead of what was going on.
A frown graced your lips when you saw two bodies from the curtain, one tall figure you recognize as Draken and Emma’s smaller dainty figure perched on him, kissing. You quickly averted your eyes and walked faster, ignoring the unfamiliar pang in your chest. Maybe you’re jealous because you needed your friend’s comfort right now and she wasn’t available.
‘She has her own life to live. And I have mine’ you muttered to yourself as you trudged along the path, slowly dragging your feet. ‘I have to stop being so dependent on her.’
Eventually, your thoughts drift back to your reoccurring dream. Losing your job made you realize that if you didn’t do anything about it, your tiredness would eventually catch up to you and ruin everything else you’ve worked for. With an important test scheduled for tomorrow, you knew you could not afford to take another loss this week. You had to power through your sleep tonight, even if it traumatized you.
‘Maybe I should pretend that I like it. Pretend it’s okay and enjoy it so that I won’t have to wake up.’ You shook your head, cursing as you drew closer to your own dorm building. ‘How far I’ve fallen. Look at me trying to enjoy a disgraceful act-’
You paused in your tracks at the sound of a leaf crushing. You quickly turned around, trying to ascertain who could be lurking there behind the bushes. Your palms started sweating, your nerves firing at the thought of being watched by someone or something.
Silence.
You decided to continue walking, assuming that maybe you were hearing things and there wasn’t anything at all. Night time always had a way of making you nervous, especially with all the horrible stories you heard about innocent women being attacked around these times. Besides, looking around for whatever may be lurking was a dumb idea.
You should just try to get out of here.
Still, the nervousness and unease you feel doesn’t leave you. Your heart rate became abnormal as you started walking faster, only for you to hear mismatched footsteps behind you.
‘Run.’
You sprinted away as fast as possible, not even bothering to look back to see what was chasing you. At this point, all that was important was for you to get into your dorm room as soon as possible, the fear of the unknown running down your spine.
Your lungs burned from having to sprint at full speed after not exercising for years now, your leg muscles aching but you dare not stop running from what might be behind you. A glimpse of light peeking through the cracks of your dorm house beckoned you to run even faster, until you reached the door.
Your heart rate picked up as you attempted to twist the door handle open, only for you to realize that it was locked early today -of all the times that the school took security seriously it just had to be now. After a few more frazzled and failed attempts, you started pounding on the doors and screaming for anyone to let you in. “Please! Open the door, I’m being chased! Help!” You screamed frantically, shaking the large doors with how hard your fists hit them. “Open the door-”
Unfortunately, your luck ran out and nobody answered you or said anything. You kept on screaming as footsteps approached you, slowing down as you harshly pounded on the door for someone, anyone to help you. Your cries became even more frantic, shouting for help anywhere, anyhow, fear taking over your rational senses.
‘God please, please, please save me, please please please’
A loud blood curdling scream rips out of your throat as arms around your waist and chest before dragging your body into the nearby bushes, discarding your bag on the floor. Your limbs flail around, trying to hit your attacker in any way so that they can release you, and you can run back to Emma’s dorm.
All it did was enraged them.
The person threw you on the ground, the grass and dirt harshly brushing against your face and body, dirtying your white skirt and jacket. You attempted to get up, only for someone to jump on top of you, pushing their weight onto you so that you can’t.
‘No. No. No-’
You reached up to the person’s chest, trying to shove them off your body, but they didn’t budge pushing themselves further onto you. You decided to use your long nails to scratch them, drawing three long lines on their cheek, anything that could distract them so that you can fight back.
“You bitch.”
Your world froze over the moment you recognized that voice, heartbeat almost stopping completely. Your eyes fearfully locked with his bloodshot purple ones staring right back at you, silver hair reflecting in the street light just a few steps ahead of you.
‘Izana-’
What did you even do to him? After the Mikey incident, you avoided the brothers like a plague, not wanting to piss them off or a repeat of what had happened. You even told Emma she should start talking to them, so why was this happening to you?
Before you could scream, his fist came in contact with your face. The pain was unbearable, black spots clouding your vision as you tried to make sense of what was happening. He hit you again, this time on your jaw, forcing you to bite your tongue so hard it bled.
“This is what bitches like you deserve. This is what you get when you don’t stay in your fucking lane.” he spat out, slapping you across the face hard, your eyes rolled back and blacked out for a second, only for him to keep beating you up, emphasizing on each syllable with a violent slap. “Everything was fine until you came. You evil little bitch. You ruined everything!”
Tan hands found purchase around your neck, both pressing down until your air supply was cut off. Panic filled your gut the moment you looked at his face once again, eyes blown out wide, teeth gritted against each other so hard, it could crack. His face twisted grotesque with how hard he was looking at you, white dust scattered around his nostrils. You reached out to his hands, clawing and scratching at them until you drew blood, kicking your legs so that he’ll become unbalanced and loosen his grip.
It was as if he was immune to pain. Nothing you did worked.
“I’m going to kill you.” He hissed slowly, bending his face towards yours until his hot breath hit your skin. “I’m going to kill you and send your dead body to Emma. Nothing will EVER come between me and her. I’ll kill anyone that comes between us!”
‘God. God. God’
You watched as his lips curled up into a smile at the frightened look on your face when you realized how serious his threat was. Your nails dug harder into his skin, tears rolling down your face as you fought for your life. You didn’t want to die. Not like this. Alone, terrified, in the hands of a crazed man and his vice-like grip forcing you to stay in place.
Izana loved every second of it. Watching you tremble in fear as you fought back was nothing short of priceless. Sure he was holding back majorly because this was a lesson, but watching you beg for your life whilst fighting him has his blood rushing down to a particular place.
Eventually all your fight gave way to fear of death. You didn’t know when you started begging for your life, until your lightheaded brain began to register that the garbled, choked and broken pleas and apologies were coming from you.
“I’m s-orry, i’m so-orry- s-orry-”
You don’t know how long you’ve begged, waiting for death to take you while your body writhes in agony. Your eyes glance up to the moonless sky, memories of your younger self flashing before your very eyes, staring at the stars with wonder, dreaming of being amongst them. Your head feels light, your eyes unfocused and body turning cold-
Your eyes shot open the moment his hands left your neck. Instantly, you’re gulping for air, coughing and sputtering as he sits on top of you, his hands on either side of your head. Izana scrutinized you under his watchful gaze, eyes drinking in the sight of your mascara running down your bloodied face, glossed lips parted open for him, taking in air.
You’re so… weak and powerless underneath him, unable to do anything and yet you fought for your life, knowing you would lose to him.
That rawness of fear that acted up as your life flashed before your very eyes shifted something in him. You’re just a weak girl. A weak, vulnerable little girl who thinks she has a bark that he can do whatever he wants to her.
He almost cannot believe the boner growing in his pants right now. He’s never felt this way for you. Meek girls were always so boring to him and yet he wants to fuck you. He wants to claim you as his own personal toy only he can play with.
The familiar thrill, once again. He’s feeling it with you.
You’re still coughing and sputtering as you lay on the ground when Izana mindlessly gets off you. He’s conflicted within himself, wondering if he should leave you for another time or relieve himself there and then. There’s just something so sexy to him about your helpless body at his mercy, he could decide if he wanted to take you here and you would never be able to fight back.
His eyes flickered to your open mouth. That will do.
“Get on your knees.”
Not wanting to take another chance at life, you obeyed instantly ignoring your body aches as you kneel in front of him. Your mouth goes dry when you hear the clinking of his belt and his zipper go down. He moves closer to you until his crotch is right next to your face, shuffling his boxers until his cock springs out, slapping your cheek hard before resting his tip on your lips.
No.
Not again. You can’t go through this again. You already have nightmares of Mikey raping you, you didn’t need Izana there too. 
“Please, I don’t want-”
“Open your mouth.”
You gulped, forcing your eyes closed as your lips parted, opening it for him just enough for his cock to enter. “Izana, please. I’ve never done this before. Please don’t make me do this. Pleas-” you tried to beg, but Izana did not care, rubbing his shaft with pre leaking from his tip.
“Unless you want me to kill you, keep it open.”
A hand reached behind your head ignoring your protests holding it in place as his cock forced its way into your oral orifice, hitting the back of your throat with a loud groan of pleasure escaping his lips. Your gag reflex acted instantly, making you want to pull away but his hand was too strong, forcing you to stay put and take his cock.
Izana wasted no time, his hips rolling his cock inside your wet mouth at a brutal pace. Strings of curses left his lips with each thrust, relishing in the euphoric pleasure of riding your face, fucking into your pretty little mouth. The hot tears rolling down your cheeks, spittle pouring from your lips and the vibrations of your gagging nearly drove him mad.
Why hadn’t he done this earlier?
“That’s it -fuck- you little slut.” Izana hissed, each thrust into your mouth making a loud, wet pornographic noise. “This is -ahn shitshitshit- what you’re good f-for.” He groaned, his hips thrusting faster into your mouth. “Ahn, ahn ugh- f-fuck, s-should h-have fuck-ked you a-at that party ahn-”
You felt dizzy as he continued assaulting your mouth for his pleasure. Dark spots began to gather around your vision as he increased his pace, choking hard on his fat dick with each roll. Your knees ache from digging into the ground hard, your fingers buried in the sand as he fucked your mouth with reckless abandon.
You don’t think you can stay awake anymore. Your head hurts from how hard his grip is. Your throat hurts, your knees hurt, your head feels like you’re floating with how you’re not breathing properly.
You don’t feel good. It hurts so much but you can’t fight back.
“That’s it- ahn ugh fuckfuck-” he quickened his pace to speed up the process of his orgasm. Makoto had only given him three hours, and he is sure they’re almost up. “Yeah, this mouth is for me! Only for me-ahn ahn- you’re my fucking tight slut. Mineminemin- ah-”
Izana thrusted deep into your mouth thrice before cumming hard, pushing his bitter cum down your throat with a low groan, his purple eyes rolling to the back of his head. At the same time, your body instantly gave out, going limp in his hold as his cock slid out of your mouth, falling on the grassy ground with a dull thud.
He adjusted himself again, tucking his now flaccid cock in his pants and wearing them properly. Izana gave you one last look, glancing at your unconscious body before laughing to himself, kicking your shivering form out of his way as he started his journey back to the Tenjiku house.
“Perhaps Mikey was right. You have some use.”
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Bonus scene:
LOVE hated mornings.
Groaning at the fact that she had woken up so early in the morning - 5am to be exact, when her first class was by 2pm, the gyaru tried going back to sleep.
After tossing and turning underneath her blanket, the girl huffed, pushing herself off the bed until her feet touched the ground. Running her hand through her blond hair, she sluggishly walked towards the door, careful not to wake her roommate up.
“Maybe I should get some air, I’m sure it’ll help me sleep back.”
The girl found herself trudging out of the dorms, pushing the door open for her to leave. Not even two steps out of the dorms, Love tripped on something, falling face first on the mahogany floors.
“Ouch!” she hissed, grimacing as she sat up, rubbing her nose. “I just got this nose job done. What gives-”
She stopped short on seeing a blue bag with books scattered everywhere. Her hand reached out to one of them with a name written on it.
“(name) (last name)?” She read it to herself, scoffing the moment she recognized who it was. “That girl always follows the Sano girl like a lost pup. Tch. What’s her stuff even doing out here?”
Deciding not to care about the bag, she dropped the book back and stood up. “Whatever, I’m going on my walk.” She shrugged, walking away from the building to the empty roads. The morning breeze danced on her skin, playing with tendrils of her bleached hair as she walked.
Despite the peaceful aura, Love couldn’t feel at peace with herself. A sense of nervousness crept upon her as she walked, as if there was something wrong. Come to think of it, maybe she shouldn’t have left your bag just like that. It was strange to see your stuff left on the porch.
Unless.
Love didn’t know why her feet started taking her to the hedge just across her dorm building. She was always told that from her young age, she had a heightened sense of danger and as of now, she didn’t doubt that something was wrong.
“Alright. Let’s see what’s going on.” She breathed out, opening the hedge completely.
Her stomach dropped the second she caught sight of a white skirt dirtied in the sand. Quickly, the gyaru ran over to where your body laid and stopped, gasping at the extent of the damage done to your face and neck. She knelt over, picking your unconscious body onto her lap. Her fingers checked for a pulse, realizing how weak it was against your cold skin.
“Oh no, no.” Her voice trembled, throwing off her comfy jacket and wrapping it around you to warm you up. “This isn’t right-”
As her fingers started to dial the emergency number, she wondered what you could have done to deserve this. Yes you followed Emma around, but you were a good girl who hasn’t done anyone harm. Love had always seen you as too sweet, so whoever did this to you was evil.
“Please, stay with me, (name). Stay with me.”
The line finally went through and an operator spoke. “911, what’s your emergency?”
“A girl… a girl was attacked, please hurry, her pulse is weak.”
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Special thanks to: @honeybleed @manjibunny @reiners-milkbiddies @izanaki707 @rukiaslvr @ilovetwodmen @bbykoo-7 @tenjikusstuff4 @cockonoi @koffeenoe @kodzukein @lostsomewhereinthegarden @cashout-princess @aliyxh-o @kay-bear200 @iluv-ace @vixensbrainrotts @missgab @urmomsksk @sweeytheart @charcoal-xl @kokoch4n3l @aliss0n-love-blog @haikyuusboringassmanager @eattmeowt
monica's after note: honestly, after everything that has happened to me last week, I debated if I should put this chapter out or just give up on the project completely. the only reason i put it out is because i made a promise to myself to finish this series this year and i already have the skeletal work drafted out.
please it doesn't take anything for any of you to be respectful to me and yourselves. if you're angry that an author is delaying posting a chapter a few weeks always remember that we are real people, with real lives. the bigoted and racist comments i got last week should be the first and last i should ever see on my account. you saw that i made due with my threat and posted this as i said i would. if you wish to send anon asks, i apologize but they are off permanently. this is also due to the misbehaviour of a certain individual that caused this. do not also go to my mutual's inbox and start talking about me.
to everyone who supported me and sent me support throughout that difficult period of my time on here, thank you very much. you inspired me to keep going and really did not taint my image on this fic. i pray each one of you finds help in the day of your trouble. y'all are real ones.
on a lighter note, i'm pretty salty no one got my haruchiyo reference in the first chapter 'laugh haruchiyo' 'smile (name)' like cmon 😭😭😭 it was THAT obvious /j
edit: please comments and reblogs are highly appreciated. Forgot to add this.
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prncessrindou · 2 months
Text
fast n’ furious // repost from wakashawty
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♱ CONTENT WARNING . . fem!reader, street racer!wakasa, unprotected sex, jealousy, waka scares reader w his driving, car sex, marijuana use, creampie and use of pet names.
♱ WORD COUNT . . 2.5k
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“You did the damn thing tonight, Waka.” A woman said as she grinned in Wakasa’s face.
The track was the place to be on Friday nights. It’s where every racer got to show off their rides and skills behind the wheel. The money was something to look forward to, but Wakasa didn’t thrive off that. What get his adrenaline pumping is knowing the dangers and consequences behind it.
“Hm, you think so?” Wakasa asked the grinning woman.
As usual, Wakasa stolen another victory with his superior driving skills, winning the money fair and square. The other challenger was mean muggin him from afar, though Wakasa was unaware of this or just didn’t give a shit.
“Is it just me or is he mean muggin you?” The woman asked. Wakasa shrugged, “he’ll be alright.” He responded nonchalantly as he leaned back against his car.
You suddenly and purposefully stormed out by Wakasa and the women. You knew that Wakasa was popular with the women before getting into a relationship with him, though you thought it would’ve stopped when you guys finally came out, but all it did was get one hundred times worse.
Wakasa grabbed your arm, pulling you into his chest. “Where do you think you’re going?” He asked into your ear, wrapping his arms around your waist and biting your earlobe softly. The other girls watched in disbelief and walked away. Finally, he thought.
“Home.” You muttered. “Oh? Well, how are you going to get there, hm?” He asked with a teasing grin on his face.
“I’m walking!” You pushed away from his chest and looked around, “where did your little girlfriend run off to? You should go after her!” You spat.
Wakasa chuckled, “she’s right in front of me.” He said, “seeing you get all jealous is so sexy, princess.” He grabs your waist and pulls you into his chest once more, “especially in this skirt.” He begins tugging on it, “you have no idea what you’re doing to me right now.”
You rolled your eyes, “I ain’t jealous.” You wouldn’t consider yourself as a person with low self esteem, but you never thought someone like Wakasa Imaushi would be interested in you. When he first asked you out, you turned him down. Simply because you thought he was out of your league and Wakasa never had a woman to turn him down. Ever… He knew then and there that you were the one and he had to have you.
“But, you are totally jealous.” He responded, “and I think it’s hot.” He whispered into your ear, gripping on the plush of your ass. You hit his chest and he chuckled, “we’re in public, you perv!” You squealed.
“And? I’m just grabbing what’s mine.” Wakasa said as he placed a kiss on your nose.
You couldn’t help, but smile. Wakasa was good at making you smile, no matter the situation.
You wrapped your arms around his neck, placing a kiss on his soft lips. “Hm, I think I deserve more than just one kiss, baby.” Wakasa grinned. You hummed, “you did win tonight so I guess you do deserve an reward.” You said, kissing his soft lips.
Suddenly a group of girls came out of nowhere, “Hey, Wakaaa!” They shouted loudly. “Are you coming to the kickback?” One girl out the group asked.
“When is it starting?” Wakasa asked, letting go of your waist and turning his attention to the girls.
“It’s going on now.” A girl responded, “we’re heading there now, you should come and… bring your lady friend.” The girl teased.
Oh, this fucking bitch.
“Sounds like it’ll be fun.. wanna swing by, baby?” Wakasa turns his attention towards you. You now have your arms folded, making your breast sit up high and his dick twitches upon seeing it.
He wants to put his face in them in front of these girls.
“Swing by your fucking self!” You walked off, bumping into him with as much force as you could and walking to the passenger side of his car, getting in and slamming the door as hard as you could.
The girls were speechless after seeing your behavior and honestly, you, yourself weren’t too happy with how you handled it. You wish you didn’t get so worked up because that’s what they want you to do so they can get a good laugh about how they got under your skin.
Wakasa waved his arms up in the air, “what gives, baby?” He mouthed. You flipped him off and he sighed deeply. Suddenly, he got in the car and started it; he pulled off on the girls, leaving them where they stood. The car ride was silent, you were looking out through the window as Wakasa drove down the dark highway. “Ya’ hungry?” He finally broke the silence.
You didn’t respond, you remained looking out the window. Wakasa leaned over and opened the glove department, taking out a already rolled up blunt. “So yer’ not gonna talk to me? Gonna give me the silent treatment?” He spoken up, putting the blunt to his mouth and lighting it up, inhaling it.
You remained silent, just shifting in your seat. Waka sighed, exhaling the smoke. He pressed his foot down on the gas, pushing eighty miles.
You noticed the car speed difference. You glanced over and saw that Wakasa was pushing eighty, but you still refused to say anything to him. You wasn’t about to give in and say anything to him about the speed, thinking he’d just slow down eventually, but that wasn’t the case at all.
The engine was roaring as Wakasa pushed the gas, one hand on the steering wheel while the other hand held onto the blunt, putting it up to his mouth here and there. Now he was pushing ninety, and you were getting a little nervous.
Wakasa didn’t say a word, eyes fixated on the road as the cars speed was getting higher. “Hey, Waka.. slow down a bit.” You finally spoke, looking at Wakasa.
He didn’t respond nor acknowledge you, he kept his eyes strictly on the road. Your heart was beating out of your chest as the speed reached ninety, getting closer and closer to one-hundred. “Damnit, Wakasa! Slow the fuck down now!” You screamed.
Wakasa abruptly pressed down on the breaks, the car screeching to a stop. Your hands went to the dashboard, breathing heavily as the car finally came to a stop. “The fuck is wrong with you?!” You yelled, voice wobbly from being scared half to death.
Wakasa starts to laugh, “my bad, baby.” He said, “jus’ wanted you to say some’ to me.”
“And you thought pulling some shit like that would do the trick? You’re really a jackass, Waka!” You spat, you were on the verge of tears because you really got frighten.
Don’t cry in front of him, don’t be a pussy!
Wakasa peeped your voice change, “hey, look at me..” he grabbed your attention by grabbing your chin, “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya’.” He said, “don’t cry.. you’re too pretty for that.” His thumb wiping away your tears.
“Whatever,” you sniffed, “just take me home, please.”
Wakasa doesn’t say anything else and just nods. He presses his foot on the gas gently and drives away. But, instead of taking you home like you wished, he takes you to a secluded spot. A spot you and him usually go to after his races.
“What are we doing here?” You questioned.
He backed the car in, placed it in park and turned off the engine. He adjusted his seat and leaned back in it, “you still mad at me?” He asked, his voice was low and deep.
“What do you think?” You questioned, with a bit of bite in your tone.
“C’mere.” Wakasa said. You gave it some thought and gave in, climbing over and sat in front of him on his lap.
His tatted hands were rubbing your exposed plush thighs. The way you were sitting, you could feel his cock underneath you. “Sorry ‘bout that, didn’t mean to scare you. Can you forgive me?” He asked, half lidded eyes staring at you.
You rolled your eyes and you shrugged. Wakasa chuckled lowly. “What’s funny?” You asked.
“Nothin’.. you’re just sexy as hell when you’re mad.” He replied, “and y’know what else?”
“I dunno.. what?”
He licked his lips, “I also get mad and jealous too.. like earlier before the race started, I saw you talking to a few dudes… and I saw how they were checking you out.” He squeezed your thighs, “it pissed me off.. I wanted to bend you over in front of those fuckers to let them know who you belong to.” Wakasa said.
“Why didn’t you if it pissed you off that much?” You questioned, using your finger to trace over his exposed tatted chest.
Wakasa chuckled, “You really would’ve let me fuck you in front of everybody?”
“Dunno, maybe.” You shrugged.
Wakasa lazily smiled, “don’t play with me, miss we’re in public.”
“Oh, shut up!” You chuckled. Wakasa chuckled lowly, continuing to rub your thighs. “But,” he begins to speak, “all jokes aside, I really am sorry.” He says.
You sigh deeply, “I guess I can forgive you.. you’re lucky you’re so pretty.”
“Not as pretty as you.” Wakasa grins. You lean down to place a kiss on his lips, not realizing what you were actually doing in the process.
“Mm, do that again.” Wakasa says lowly. Wakasa groaned as you leaned over again, but stops you midway and grabs your hips, moving you back and forth as you sat on his lap, grinding on his clothed cock.
You felt his cock harden as you grind on his lap, Waka groaned once more at the friction you were causing, “fuck.. if you keep that up, you might start something you can’t finish.” he says, squeezing your thighs with his hands.
“Who says I can’t finish it?” you questioned, smashing your lip against his for a passionate kiss, you could taste a bit of mint from the gum Wakasa had earlier. You pulled away from his lips, “I always finish what I start.”
Wakasa grinned and licked his lips, your confidence amusing to him, “then show me.” He said, “show daddy how you finish shit.”
“With pleasure.” You said, unzipping Wakasa pants and his hard cock sprung up from his jeans, the tip oozing out pre cum. You raised your hips up, lifting your skirt up as Wakasa helped pulled your panties to the side. “A thong, huh? Fuck..” he said, biting his lips at the sight of your bare cunt.
He rubbed his tip against your folds, gathering your slick. You moaned at the friction and allowed him to slip inside of your cunt. “Fuck, fuck, fuckkk—” you moaned, your walls burning at how his cock was stretching you out.
You didn’t move your hips at all, it was almost as if you were cockwarming him. “Wakaaa, you’re so— shit!” You sobbed, laying your head in the crook of his neck. The smell of his cologne hitting your nostrils; you placed wet kisses on his neck.
“Mm, is my pretty girl gonna ride me?” His hands on the globe of your ass, squeezing your plushy skin. You nodded your head profusely, rocking your hips back and forth on his dick. He was huge to say the less, his dick dragging against your walls with every movement you made.
Wakasa watched as you bounced on his length, feeling the buzz from the weed he smoked earlier. He’s digging his nails into your skin, trying so desperately to control himself from slamming you down on his dick and fucking you dumb. Your pussy is clenching and spasming around him, he’s getting dizzy from it.
“Fuck, princess.. yer’ pussy squeezing the shit outta me!” Wakasa murmured, throwing his head back against the seat as you rocked him. He looks so pretty like this, surrounded in bliss as pleasure took over him.
You lifted your hips up, his length shining with your slick and his tip remained the only thing in your wet folds as you began moving your hips in a different way.. a way that would drive him crazy.
W— A— K—, your hips spelled out the first three letters of his name and then the forth, A—.
“Fuckkkk—,” Wakasa realized what you were doing, “that’s so sexy, shit baby..” biting his bottom lip and letting you continue doing what you were doing. S— A—.. by the time you finished the last word, he slammed your hips down; his fat tip practically tasting your spongy core and his length pulsating against your warm walls. “Ohhh- my! Fuck, Wakaaa!” You squealed, wrapping your arms around his neck as he lifted your ass up and down his dick.
His fingers were digging into your skin, enough to leave marks on your skin for the next day. You felt yourself coming undone as he repeatedly pounded your core. “Shit, m’ cummin! M’ cumminnnn!” You sobbed, Wakasa then guided your hips to go back and forth, practically grinding your clit against him.
“Heh,” he chuckled, “make a mess then, baby.” He said as he smacked your ass.
That was all he needed to say for you to snap. You sobbed Wakasa’s name like it was a sacred prayer as your high came washing over you like it was a tidal wave.
You knew Waka was close from how his dick was twitching inside of you. He continued rocking your hips back and forth while squeezing his eyes shut, groaning in your ear as pleasure took over him, spraying your walls with his warm cum. “Mmh, fuckkk,” he growled, gripping and slapping your ass as he came down from his high.
You both were out of breath, completely spent. Wakasa chuckles, throwing his head back against the seat, “so when were you gonna tell me you could do that freaky shit?” He asked, his large hands rubbing your ass.
You giggled, snuggling your face into his chest, “it was the spur of the moment type thing.. I was just trying something.”
“Hm,” Wakasa hums, “spur of the moment, huh? Well, it was hot as fuck.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it so much.” You leaned up, placing a kiss on his soft lips. You felt Wakasa’s dick harden back up as it remained inside of you. You broke away from the kiss, “tell me you’re not serious..!?” you said, Wakasa was grinning from ear to ear, “well, what can I say? You still owe me my reward for winning tonight.”
You arched your brow, “what are you talking about?” You questioned, “we literally just fucked.”
“Yeahhh, I know we did,” Waka said, “but, you was just proving to me you can finish what you start… proving yourself and giving a reward are two different things, princess.”
You rolled your eyes and you couldn’t help, but smile. “What am I going to do with you, Wakasa Imaushi?”
Wakasa laughed, his laugh was warm and his smile had butterflies swarming around in your stomach. “I don’t know, baby.” He said, suddenly smashing his lips against yours. He began moving your hips again, squelching sounds filled the car as he did so. The friction causing you to squeal in his mouth.
He broke away from the kiss, grinning from how you reacted to him moving your hips, “but, I know what I’m going to do with you though.” He smiles before sealing your lips with a kiss.
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