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#they definitely had a fucked relationship
screampied · 4 hours
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‘ THAT [ GIRL ] IS MINE ! ,
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ᡴꪫ sum. university still majorly sucks, and spring break is practically over. time to say goodbye to your dad’s best friend, but before you do—you have a jarring confession to make, and it’s definitely not those three words.
wc. 6.4k
warnings. fem! reader, dad's best friend! toji, age gap (reader is over twenty), booty call, unprotected, size kink, praise, fıngering, cunnılingus (toji eating it from the back), degredation, dumbification, toji's very whipped for you, overstim, squırting.
an. this is the last chapter WOOOOO. thank you to everyone who read dbf! toji. may he return somedayy
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girl, are you fucking stupid?
a simple question you couldn’t answer as if your life depended on it. if only you knew the deep consequences you’d face by having some careless fun on spring break. oh, but it’s just a one time thing, it’s just a little fling that won’t mean anything once april’s over. you continue to keep reminding yourself that every time you were with him. toji fushiguro—your father’s sleazy best friend, the guy who was about eight years older than your twenty-two year old self, the guy who was shameless, the guy who literally fingered you underneath the table during dinner, same said guy who makes you clean off his fingers with your tongue like the good obedient girl you were.
maybe you are fucking stupid,
spring break was coming to its inevitable end, meaning it’d be the end of your little fling with mr. fushiguro. oh and you did get caught, your father knows— but let’s not focus on that part, let’s focus on the part on how you were questioning yourself. was this love or just a game? surely it couldn’t be love, ew. toji himself said that he can’t stand relationships. you yourself was too busy with being a studious university student to even consider a significant other. so… what exactly was this peculiar feeling? a good description was a weird stir in your stomach, especially whenever he’s lay his eyes on you. alas, maybe instead of love, the feeling was entirely different.
you know what they say about karma though, it always catches up to you in the long run. oops..?
it was about three thirty in the morning. you were tossing and turning in your sleep. birds could just about be heard outside your window, chirping and chirping away. with an exaggerated sigh, you stare into the beige drywall that coats against your ceiling for a long, long time. no matter how much you tried to delay the inevitable—you had to get up, you just had to get it off your chest.
you should probably not keep this yourself..
but you pondered deeply at what his reaction might be— would he feel the same way, or would he hate you and turn a cold eye … ?
just thinking about it for such a long duration of a time made your stomach churn. at the same time though, whenever you thought about toji for too long . . that happened. you’d get aroused, having your pretty little panties in a twist.
you still question just how your father and him even met. a guy like toji isn’t really a guy you’d stumble across everyday. he mentioned to you on how he was gambling at boat races—you believed that, but still, you always did wanna know more about him.
toji was a very private man though, nothing wrong with that.
you couldn’t help but be a little curious about the man you’ve been screwing with for the past thirteen days now. thirteen days felt more like thirteen long consecutive weeks. like most, your break was supposed to only last five days to a week. it only ended up getting extended because of some kind of altercation at your campus. albeit, you didn’t ever want it to end,
but all good things do come to an end, right?
reaching for your phone, you decide to text him— you didn’t exactly expect a reply despite it being so late but still, you unlock your phone before scrolling for his contact..
< 69 Toji Fushiguro 🎥 >
Today 3:27 AM
hi toji.
u up?
• • •
Yo
Yea. Just woke up actually. Why?
lol no reason, i can’t sleep.
i miss u and i need to tell you smth
Oh?
Fuck I miss ya too, girl.
Come over then. you still got my location?
yeah be there in a bit xx
Read 3:29
locking your phone again, you take a quick thorough six minute shower. toji missed you just as much as you missed him— it’s been about a day or two or three that’s passed, of course you two wouldn’t be able to see each other every day.
it was mostly every other day. with spring break coming to a crashing depressing end, this would all be the end of your little spring season fling.
damn.
the drive to toji’s apartment was about maybe nine minutes from you. not exactly far, you’d have him come over to yours but you forgot that your father was literally next door to you. he’s already aware of what was taken place at his own home but again, let’s not focus on that part of the story.
at least not yet.. or ever,
you threw on a simple ample outfit, one of your oversized university hoodies and some leggings. something homely, something comfortable.
the weather was actually pretty decent, a bit humid but not exactly too cold either.
once you arrive at toji’s surprisingly well kept apartment, he met up with you at the door with that same smug grin. “….hey,” is all he says, eyes staring down your body for a while. you take the chance to ogle at him too. even with it being the middle of the night, he still looked handsome. with dark black hair of his a bit ruffled, toji had on nothing but obsidian black colored shorts and a white tee. his muscles, you always did feen over his mammoth-like jacked muscles. he was so toned— a lot taller than you, the epitome of what a real man was. “how was the drive? drive okay?”
“it was okay,” you mutter, stepping into his apartment. he’s holding a half empty can of cheap off brand booze, locking the door behind you as you take in the scenery. you feel a bit of butterflies rummage throughout your tummy as he slings an arm around you. it was like each time you’d meet with him again, he’d get more and more affectionate towards you. facing him, you had a cute abashed smile. “you look sleepy. did i wake you?”
“nah,” he firmly shakes his head, placing his empty can aside. toji takes off the thin coat you wore over your hoodie before hanging it up on the nearby rack for you. “i was ‘bout ‘ta get ready for work but then ya texted me.”
work.
toji never did tell you what he does for a living.
your eyebrows slightly raise. “wha— why? i can wait, just go to work.”
“dollface, really. it’s fine,” he chuckles, his voice a rough low. he leads you towards his bedroom, the bed wasn’t made up although it smelled a lot like him in here. a cheap musk of cologne fills through your nose as you sit down on his bed beside him. toji stretches, the veins in his forearms exposing ever so slightly and it’s so hot. “besides, didn’t feel like clockin’ in anyway. still gotta finish my taxes.”
“oh,” you mumble, completely lost in his gaze as he continues to speak. toji notices you staring and he smirks.
playfully, he pokes at your forehead, a teasing flick with two fingers to snap you out of whatever trance you were in. “. . soooooooo,” toji hums in a raspy pitched tone. his fingers that went against your skin was abnormally warm. “what did you wanna talk ‘ta me about?”
right, that..
suddenly, you felt your thighs squeeze together. toji’s staring at you, awaiting for a response and whilst you smother your glossed lips together, you rub the back of your neck. “oh, it can wait. it’s not that important,” damn, if looks could kill, you’d be screwed. dark green irises focus on your lips, then your eyes before back towards your pursed up lips. toji was quite familiar with your awkward body language, you lean up close to him before dragging a finger down his chest. so sensually, “like i said though, i missed you toji. i go back home tomorrow.”
“you’re lying, doll,” he whispers, letting your finger run down the middle part of his chest. a few bristles of chest hair pokes through his white tank before he raises a brow. “but fine,” and he grabs you to sit right on his lap. instinctively, your arms wrap around his broad neck. the closer you got, the more you got a good whiff of him. his cologne was so strong, it made you dizzy. “i missed ya more. and that’s right, y’er spring break’s ‘bout to end,” and you almost moan at feeling his clammy hands squeeze against your thighs. “excited to go back?”
“no,” you grumble, a grouse hiding underneath your tone. he slyly smiles, a thumb skimming against your skin. “i don’t wanna leave yet.”
“well girl then jus’ stay,” he rolls his eyes, forever a sassy, sassy man. “and, i find it kinda amusing. the whole point of your spring break was to visit your father ‘n you basically spent it all with me,” and his eyes run down your body, pulling you up close to kiss the outside of your neck. “ain’t complainin’ though.”
you pout, he had a point. “i can’t stay, my campus is like five hours away,” and you moan a bit from the softness of his lips meeting against your tender skin. “maybe.. you could visit me though.”
“eh. we’ll see.”
moments pass before you find yourself making out with toji. it lasts for a good while, ten precise minutes exactly. his hands free-for-all all over your body, the warmth of his hot breath goes against yours. the bitter taste of rich booze lingers on his breath, it’s chemically and it almost burns, yet it’s addictive. toji’s taste alone was addictive. you moan, feeling him ghost a big hand between your thighs to locate your arising heat. your leggings could only conceal your arousal for so long. his eyes were barely open, half-lidded as another hand travels up your hoodie. stubby fingers of his drag against your skin in such a way that you couldn’t help but grind against his lap.
toji grunts, deepening the passionate kiss—his tongue was so sweet, occasionally sucking against yours. perhaps he did miss you more than you missed him. with his head slightly cocked back to a certain angle, you start to hear and feel your own breaths shudder.
everything was going so fast yet slow, he parts his lips a bit further before you feel a hand of his reach all the way down between your legs. after a while of mashing teeth and sucking against tongues together, he pulls away. “y’er still as nasty as i remember. walkin’ around with no fuckin’ panties, huh?”
“nasty for you,” you whine, feeling his rough hands tug all over your body. swiftly, a hand snakes underneath your thighs. he runs a single thumb down your soaked slit and he guffaws. with a sly grin, he leans in to kiss more against your neck. so tender, he knew all the right spots to make you whimper out and squirm. his balmy hot breath resuming to collide against your skin made you bite your lip, an arm still throwing around his neck. “you don’t like me wearing panties anyway.”
“well yeah,” he sneers, his touch going further against your pre-soaked clit. you were already a bit drenched and he hums. “i steal them from ya regardless. my ‘lil souvenir. besides, what’s the point of wearin’ those things when y’er always this fuckin’ soaked.”
you moan, feeling him insert a single finger inside. his fingers were always so thick, stretching you out probably even better than his dick ever could. almost as if your entrance was elastic with how good it stretches. it’s his middle finger, then it sporadically turns into two— two thickset fingers prodding inside your slick heat.
you coat his digits so well with your syrupy arousal, he glances at you with a simper as you clamp around them both at once. “you get more nastier for me every time,” he murmurs, slowly swirling his fingers inside you. you’re clinging onto his neck tightly, feeling that strain in your lungs drag out as you pant. “drivin’ around this wet, girl i ‘oughta spank ya.”
“do it then.”
he glares at you before you gasp. toji lightly shoves you into the bed and you flop down, uttering out a soft ‘oof.’ landing on the sound mounds of your chest, he yanks down your leggings fully before meanly kissing the right cheek of your ass with his palm. “do it then,” he mocks you, pitching his naturally gruff tone to your own. “shut the fuck up,” and the sting feels good, his fingers were now out of you and again, you pout. clamping around nothing now, you were quite really just arched over his bare knee. “have ya been touchin’ y’erself lately? tell me.”
“no,” you lie, and that earns another spank— you moan out, the feeling of his palm was so hot at first touch. quite literally, the sting made you twinge before you grip onto his bulky thighs. “haven’t touched myself, swear.”
“oh bye, don’t bullshit me, sweetheart,” toji mutters, and you’re just dangling over his knee.
occasionally, the coolish air against his room would waft right against your skin. “known ya for a good what, two weeks? i can tell y’er lying,” and the way his voice pitches— it’s so rough, gravelly.
the baritone in his voice never fails to make you wet, so deep. you didn’t really know a good way to describe toji’s voice, all you knew was that it was raspy as hell. heavily and utterly raspy to the point where even him whispering against your ear was enough to have you drenched. “don’t like ya touchin’ her when ‘m not around,” he clicks his tongue, caressing your bare stinging ass. you’re panting, aching for him to just hurry up, to do something. toji cackles, noticing from how impatient you were simply from your body language. “aw. am i talkin’ too much for the pretty girl? you bein’ over my knee not enough to satisfy ya?”
you sigh, wriggling your ass a bit and he spanks it again just to watch the recoil bounce against your skin.
“t— tojiiii. just fuck me already.” you grumble, you didn’t really care how whiny you sounded.
it was late at night and you were horny. that was for sure pretty much all you knew. besides, despite it being about two to three days since you last saw him, yeah.. maybe that wasn’t even long of an absence— but you did kind of miss toji.
more importantly, you missed his little friend between his legs.
“i’ll fuck ya when i wanna,” he gruffs. you whine once he sprawls your legs open a bit more. toji stares at your ass, spreading them to see your sloppy cunt opening for him. a sweet little meet and greet. so wet, you’re still laid over his lap before he leans down. “shh. listen to her,” is all he says. whilst he’s inching his face closer, two exact seconds later you feel toji’s saliva trickle into your pulsating entrance. oh. he spat on your pussy, he was quite direct with it too. he then gathers a long stringy wad of gossamer-like spit before spitting it right between your swollen folds. you bite your lip hard, forgetting how much of a nasty man he was. “yeah she’s missed the fuck outta me.”
toji was purely fluent in pussy talk. it was common for him. he’d always refuse to your cunt as ‘she’ as if she had a name or something.
no shame, shameless— toji brings a thumb towards your clit, rubbing against it just so you could hear the squelches you made yourself.
“you used a toy, baby?” he hums, sliding his tongue against his lips, against the scar that slants against his skin oh-so-sexily..
“y-yeah,” you whimper, the coldness of his saliva making you shudder within his hold. your breathing became more rapid as you tighten the hold on his legs. “magic wand. i jus’ wanted to try it.”
“tch… magic fuckin’ wand,” he snarls, actually sounding quite offended.
continuing to drag and skim his fat thumb down your slit, you mewl out. you’re effortlessly soaking his single slender digit with such sheeny amounts of your sweet. “bet ya didn’t even know what the fuck you were doin.’ how long it take ‘ta make you finish?”
you’re panting now, trying to recall your lewd moments with your sweet beloved hitachi, it was expensive too.
you bought it from some shady link online, one of your friends recommended it to you so you shrugged it off, saying why not. besides, you hardly ever have time to play with yourself anyway. even more now that you had toji.
“like … maybe thirty minutes.” you exhale deeply, the fast paced strokes of his fingers making your eyes almost roll back. so so good, all he was really doing was skimming his fingers against your sopping wet entrance— barely even doing anything, yet you were still a mess.
toji chuckles, making you get off his lap before laying you face first on the mattress. he grabs your waist, pulling your ass upward to stick out before he gets up close for a nice direct view. “aw. thirty minutes? thirty minutes when it can only take me five with my tongue?”
“f-fuckkk.” you start to babble, his warm breath fanning all against your exposed cunt.
it cools against your skin, sending each nerve that resides inside of your entrance to spiral uncontrollably. toji had you arched all over, arched over like some slut.
to be fair, if the shoe fits you might as well wear it.
“dunno if ya deserve to be eaten out,” he speaks in a low undertone. your dilated pupils roll way back at his simple touch.
he teasingly brings his tongue towards your pussy, it’s retting, sloppily so. toji drags two fingers and you eagerly coat his digits with such salaciously, lewd arousal. “mhm. look at that, fuckin’ drenched. my favorite waterpark,” and he spits against your folds once more before snickering darkly. “jus’ thinkin’ you used those useless hands on this pretty pussy makes me ill.”
oh, you’re about to lose it..
he was stalling, more talking and less eating.
instead, it should have been vice versa.
you’re a mover, writhing in his lap, still hunched over with a cute arch before he spanks your ass.
“little girl, cut that shit out,” he grunts and abruptly, you feel the coldness of his flat tongue finally lap against your pussy.
immensely, your mouth forms into an ‘o’. if it was anything toji fushiguro knew how to do well, it was that he knew how to eat.
he ate you out like it was the end of the fucking world, as if your pussy was the only food remaining left in stock.
you gnaw on your bottom lip further, gasping once he wastes no time to dig in.
. . slow slow sluuuurps,
he makes sure you hear how wet you were on his mouth. just downright filthy, his tongue lays itself flat before he nibbles all against your throbbing clit.
“o-oh my god, toji, hngh,” you’d babble out in pathetic sweet sobs. with his tongue scrapping against your entrance, creating suction with his mouth had you stupid.
as your maw dramatically drops, he’s eating you from the back. there’s a concise dull moment where he pauses. with big two rough hands, he spreads your ass open fully. “f-fuuuck.” you moan, feeling him blow his warm breath all against your puffed folds.
from behind, you hear his sexy low titter before he resumes—yet this time, he lolls his pink tongue all the way out, so fucking long..
and as he does, he licks from the very bottom of your cunt until he’s reaching near your puckering hole— he’s never acknowledged that spot before, your ass.
your eyes widen, a clamoring gasp exits from your lips before he spits against it, lathering his tongue everywhere. he likes it wet, more importantly though, he likes it nasty.
“arch that back more for me, bend girl, bend,” he coos in a muffled tone— purely speaking with his mouth full. his stubble tickles against your pussy and your back voluntarily moves itself forward. a curve, he found it so appealing,
so . . amusing.
“there mphm we go baby, good girl. keep that head on the bed. ‘m fuckin’ starved.”
you’re clinging tight onto one of toji’s satin covered pillows, feeling his tongue roam everywhere. it knew no bounds. your heart starts to race at a more rapid speed the second he sneakily dips his tongue back into your needy clit.
he passionately sucks against the clitoral hood before using a hand to smack your ass every single time you squirm.
after about probably the nth time of his lewd escapades with his tongue, he starts to prod his calloused fingertips near your entrance once more. his fingers featuring his tongue, oh you were really no match.
“imgonnacumimgonnacumimgonna—”
“mhm, bet ya are,” he rasps, a deep chuckle dragging out of his throat.
the way your body responds to him was so cute. “keep that ass up ‘n y’er face down,” he orders, earning another vicious smack on the rear from him. you’re moaning, feeling yourself start to spasm. toji occasionally breaks his lips away to kiss near your ankle, your thighs, anywhere but your cunt and he knows how much you hated that.
the teasing— he’d purposely stop just to move his lips elsewhere, watching you fidget in such obscene anticipation. “don’t fuckin’ cum yet.”
“but—”
“but shit. you heard me,” he groans, bringing his mouth back towards between your legs. you whine, feeling him roll out his tongue before slurping up such a good amount of your syrupy taste.
with your toes curling, stomach seizing, you couldn’t stop shaking.
so damn good, his buttony nose rubs against your folds and it tickles for a split second. the stimulation has your mind going for a loop, you even slip your hands underneath your sweatshirt just to touch on your sensitive perky nipples. “wait for me. hold it, yeah.”
but of course, you didn’t listen,
your body had other plans.
it was inevitable, your orgasm ignored toji anyway, you’re ponderously throbbing.
the pulse between your thighs only grow more briskly before you realize you’re drooling all over his bedsheets.
oh, the feeling felt so delicious, your jaw remains open and you feel so much pressure. so much, his tongue still grazes against your slit before you shriek out, gasping for whatever air was left. it was quick, very very quick.
it’s speed..
it’s tempo was like lightning speed—a bolt that flashes within a blink of an eye, concentric circles steadily building up within your lower abdomen pooling up with heat before it just snaps,
you came.
“o-oh fuck, f-fuuuck, toji,”
suddenly, the room grows quiet. you knew toji didn’t like for you to finish early—especially finishing after he tells you to wait, but oh well.
you couldn’t help it, and the orgasm he just gave you was so good, mouth watering. with weak legs that could barely stand up it’s on own, you inhale a single sharp breath before you’re flipped over quickly.
“the fuck did i just tell you?”
“s-sorry,” you giggle, sprawled all on his bed. your eyes immediately meet the gaze of his shorts, they were half on. he’s got a bulge going on, a hard one at that. his black boxers briefly stick out and it’s so attractive—you catch a glimpse of his happy trail from his tank top that was pulled up just a bit, exposing a bit of his skin. sharp v-line, slim snatched waist.
slut..
god, he was so jacked. the more you stare at his sculptured body, the more you fantasized about how he could just toss you around the—
“oh, is somethin’ funny to you?” he utters lowly, and his tone— he sounds ticked off, he’s barely even raising his tone, projecting it but you still hear the slight rasp to it. you just got even more soaked. “was gonna let ya ride me but i don’t wanna stare at a brat right now.”
“h-huh?” you reply, and then your face was met against the plush mattress again.
you lewdly mewl out a whimper once he spanks your ass, a hand grabbing onto your hip.
“don’t act like ya can’t here me, girl. bring that ass up a bit more,” and you gasp, feeling him drag your hips a bit closer towards his slim waist. “yeah.” he breathes, having a gentle yet firm grip on you.
rough coarse fingertips glide up against your own hips as you feel him take a second to align himself. fuck, you missed this.
you missed him.
in the midst of toji already pulling down his shorts and boxers— he then grabs ahold of his thick cock, giving it a few solid strokes.
he was so hard, leaky tip glistening with pre that he wished he made you lick the top off.
but it was far too late, he just wanted to be inside, just as much as you wanted him inside. the crown of his cock was so fat, even with toji being slow to ease himself inside, he’s still practically splitting you open.
“shit, i missed this,” he grunts in a hoarse tone whilst he’s going inside you.
“f-fuck,” you bawl up the creamy white sheets into your fists.
you almost forgot just how big he was, despite it only being a good three days without feeling him stretch you out.
toji groans, feeling the subtle tightness of your walls adjust to him like always— it usually lasts a second or two. he’s furthering himself in, already about to bottom out.
he’s already niiice and snug. a perfect fit,
every. single. time.
toji rarely does doggy with you because he prefers staring at your face— solely to make fun of your little facial expressions. but whenever you were bent over for him on all fours, it was simply an experience you never wanted to end. “oh fuck m-me,” you croak, feeling him yank harshly against the hood of your hoodie. you bump back against him and that’s when he unhurriedly starts to create an unkempt, sloppy pace.
it was rhythmic, he starts off slow before strenuously pounding into you.
churning up your sweet savory insides like butter, you clamp around him so good that it makes his abs tense up. “mhm,” he tugs tighter against the fabric that was thrown over you from the torso up. dark eyes of his flicker toward your ass, each time he moves, your ass moves.
in full compatibility, the sheer skin slaps was brutal. your head was spinning like a merri-go-‘round, strained inhales pulling your heaving lungs every few milliseconds. “. . girl,” toji groans, and you moan once he gives your ass a spank again for probably the umpteenth time today. his voice, every syllable he drags out in that deep hoarsely voice of his had you so soaked. “fuck back against me, c’mon. ‘s a two way street, baby.”
“y-you’re so fuckin’ big though,” you whine, pawing into the soft cushions of his comforter.
“awww,” he utters in a faux, sympathetic tone.
he leans against you, so close to where he’s basically in prone bone— no more doggy.
he’s so deep that the tip of his dick prods all against your secluded g-spot. toji’s hefty weight hovers against your bare ass and you moan melodically. “i’m big, yeah?” and a colossal, veiny hand of his wraps around your throat. gentle, barely any pressure but a good amount to make you whine again. “but y’er doin’ so good, was jus’ about to praise you but you don’t want praises, huh,” and you’re falling in love time and time again with his sensual yet reckless rhythm. the way the bed rocks and shakes in harmony, you’re at a lost of words.
speechless, breathless, every -less word by this point.
he was hitting you so deep, every angle.
so thorough,
his hips were sharp— your moans grow louder the moment he gets right up against you, a hand gripping into your hair rigidly. mercilessly, a hand lightly digs into your scalp as he’s holding your head up. toji’s damn near balls deep now, making sure you feel every consecutive thrust. “some nerve, textin’ me at three am just to fuck this sloppy cunt,” and his hot breath fans against your neck. you whine once you feel his tongue slide against your sensitive collarbone. so deep—you were sure he’s just jackhammering his cock into you by this point. each movement was pivotal, he was precise with the way his hips snapped against you. whiplash got you good, you’re currently just a babbling mess listening to his crude words. “but i bet ‘s more than that, yeah? you wanted to tell me somethin’ so just tell me.”
“n-not yet,” a sweet moan dies out your throat.
toji rolls his eyes— this girl, he’s thinking in his head. you were testing his patience, a stubborn little thing. one of the many things he’s liked about you. “fuck, h-harder toji. harder.”
“sloooow? i can do slow,” he replies in a deriding tone, and his deep thrusts turn into satirical unserious, slow pumps. you whine, he lets go of your hair and you just plop down on your chest. he knew what you wanted, he knew how you liked to be fucked, and yet he was just being a tease.
toji fucking fushiguro for you.
he’s always been rough with you, treating you like nothing more than a mere rag doll at times. there’s been sweet affectionate moments too, rarely, but it has its moments.
toji’s infatuation with you only grows, the more he spends time with you the more he even starts to question himself.
you’ve got him whipped.. precisely with your pussy, yes, but whipped in another way completely. he didn’t know how to describe it, mainly because it was nothing to describe,
indescribable.
he couldn’t put anything to words—especially whenever he was deep in your guts, mashing your cunt around with his cock like homemade dough. kneading it with his tip,
stretch, mold, ply, repeat..
he’s doing all that with his dick. he sucks his teeth, a tsk escapes from his mouth before he spanks your ass— bringing you right back to reality.
“fuckin’ gonna milk the shit out of me,” he groans, his hips all sloppy and vigorous.
toji’s so close to you that by now, he brings a foot up to press against the back of your neck. you gasp, really feeling just how deep he was inside your cunt.
the wool of his sock presses against your neck as your face was smushed against the satiny sheets. “mhm, that’s it girl, take it. take that shit. milk my fuckin’ cock, fuuuck.”
his groans get louder, you’re so wet it’s ludicrously sloshing against him and you’re all doe-eyed and dumb.
emphasis on dumb, not a single thought was embedded into your brain.
as his hips keenly buck against you, you’re breathing shallowly, trying to keep a good momentum against him before you whine.
you were close again, yet this time— something else was approaching,
something more . . provocative.
your legs shake and shake, your jaw aches from how much your teeth is shattering amongst each other before you feel him grab onto your wrist.
he pins it behind your back whilst he’s still fucking you raw.
broad, clammy hands of his roam down your voluptuous body, taking in to snag a feel of your curves, your pretty physique, everything..
beads of sweat droplets start to race down the sides of toji’s naturally dark brows— he huffs and puffs, the girth of his dick only stretching out inside of you even further.
you’re a babbling mess, the arch in your back was so cute that it makes him throb. you feel the throb that lingers from his dick, it pulsates at such a meteoric pace that it has you pulsing in response.
“where do ya want it,” he grumbles with a soft vexing pout on his lips. toji was trying his best to maintain composure—but he was flustered, the more he leers down your back, down your pretty structured spine, the more he’s starting to adapt this unexplainable feeling. “best fuckin’ tell m—”
“inside,” you purr out, your voice all strained and a raucous from the immense amounts of moans that left your throat. “i-inside, wanna feel you again, ‘n again, ‘again..”
toji snickers, swiping a tongue against his lips before he slows himself down for you to adjust.
you’re preparing to finish with him— he coos right up against your ear, sticking two fingers in your mouth. “finish with me, princess. ‘m givin’ you this one chance,” and he deepens his voice all the way down, balls so deep inside that you feel a faint gape stretch you whole.
you’re compressing him down tight with your gummy walls before you feel the slimy friction of pure sweat sticking against your own skin. “you gonna be a good girl ‘n cum on my cock? or a bad girl who’s not even listenin’ to a damn thing ‘m saying.. ?”
“c-cum, toji, mphm,” you choke out a sweet desperate wail, feeling one of his bulky arms wrap around your torso. “wanna cum.”
as you spoke, your words were merely muffled from his thick digits shoving inside of your sloppy, needy mouth. his warmth, once it skids against your skin, it never ever leaves.
you think you’re about to cum but instead, you gush out.
violently, electricity courses through your veins. vibration after vibration pulses throughout your body and you’re hysterical,
it’s so abrupt, so intense..
you’re squirting, coating his dick with your honeydew arousal from the base down.
he chuckles at your body’s initial response, how you’re finding it impossible to stay still. you’re clenching around his shaft still, mouth all open, eyes wide as big as restaurant saucers.
swooning, you’re swooning from his length and that’s when you whimper once he groans right in your ear.
the raspiness, it’s got you drenched— drenched like a faucet, the sensation was beyond pleasurable.
toji ends up following seconds after, it hits him harder. like a truck, it comes at full speed before you’re met with such absurd milky ropes of his seed. it shoots out quick, but it’s thick. you get quiet, hearing the sloshing spurts trickle its way inside of you. “f-fuck,” he stutters, a shaky breath following as he slides his fingers out of your mouth. a trailing glimmering cobweb of your own spit drags from his two fingers as he’s dumping knots and knots of cum into your sweet, starving cunt. “saved so much f’r you, feel it deep ‘n y’er womb, doll?”
“y-yes.” you swallow, a multitude of moans emit from you before he slowly pulls out.
oh, the sight of it all. one of toji’s favorite parts was to simply gawk at the mess he created, taking in the mess he made you.
a messy girl.
the messiest, your chest feels tight and you’re heaving.
he licks his lips, staring at your ass with hazy eyes. his own cum oozes out of your hole and he just wants to lick it, plug it back into you and give you another thick load.
that’ll come soon enough— as much as he had stamina equivalent to a near stallion, he needed a little break. his chest felt like it was about to explode.
“fuck,” he collapses against his side of the bed, reaching towards his thigh to scratch it.
as if on instinct, you crawl towards him, an arm wraps around you and he pulls you closer. your head presses against his chest. you hear his rapid heart beat and he murmurs out a husky, “good girl,” and he leans in to kiss the crown of your head. “gimme a minute though. ‘m not as young as i used to be, y’know.”
you giggle, a simper stretching across your face as the time passes.
instantaneously, it gets quiet for a moment before you suddenly remember why you even came here . . for one last time.
“toji,” you utter, attempting to catch your breath.
you were still heaving with lungs full of build up oxygen, panting a bit before he glances down at you with that unreadable, naturally stern expression.
a hand of yours strums down his pecs seductively, playing with the curly chest hair that remains stuck against his skin. “i’ll um . . tell you what i wanted to say earlier.”
“let me go first.”
with your eyebrows slightly furrowing, you glance up at him and he stares up at the ceiling before back at you. “about a week back, at y’er dad’s place, i told ya i loved you,” and his breath hitches for a moment— even saying something as sentimental as that made him cringe.
you figure he was being serious though because his sudden eye contact never left yours. “you never gave me an answer back.”
“. . . oh,” you sheepishly say, remembering the exact encounter he was referring to. you then lean up to toji, gingerly planting your lips against the right side of his mouth where his tender scar resides. “you didn’t hear me? i said i love you too, toji.”
his chest feels all warm and mushy, you love him?
“you do?” he replies, being taken aback. this entire situation was messy as is, but again, they do say the heart knows what it wants.
you nod, repeating yourself before pulling him into a quick three second kiss. “i love you, toji.”
. . .
. . . is what he thought you was gonna say.
far from it actually, you’re sat in the passenger seat of toji’s car before you lightly tap him on the shoulder. he’s parked, slouched back against his seat before he snaps out of his erotic phantasm. he was dropping you off back home,
oh right.
home.
“toji? did you even hear a word i just said?”
“huh? yeah, you said you loved me too.”
“no … i didn’t. what?” you scrunch up your face, the most perplexed expression of all.
that was nothing you said, with a sheepish expression, you mutter out the words he’d never thought he’d hear you say. “toji, i said i’m pregnant.”
. .
happy spring fucking break.
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goldsbitch · 2 days
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Hypochondria
The emotions and glimpses of daily life of this random girl followed Lando throughout his whole. Whenever she's sad, he knows. Her celebrations sort of become his celebrations. For him, it's like breathing - just another part of his life. That is until he meets her.
soulmate au
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Lando knew the moment he saw her. And it was at that point when he thought he was truly going crazy.
For his whole life, he thought it was just some fantasy that he planted in his mind in early age and was impossible to get rid off.
He froze completely. Panicked, went into fight or flight mode, these two fighting each other so hard that he just stood there, staring like a creep. Thank god she was far away enough and probably did not notice.
His second immediate reaction was anger. Did she really not notice him? The audacity? How can she roam around his brain for his whole life and then not react when she sees him? Her being in the paddock meant that she definitely knew who he was, people don't just end up by chance there.
Except maybe she did. Her outfit gave away that she was one of the medics from the medical team. Of course she would be. Saving lives, doing something proper meaningful. Not driving around in circles and making a big deal out of it, like he did. Never in his life did he feel as selfish and sort of shameful for his choice of career.
He began to insert ideas into her head, despite not having spoken a single word to her. She was probably someone who valued intelligence, people who were book smart, humble heroes in the society who were focus on dedicating their lives to saving others.
Not those who were recklessly driving around in circles. There was no way she'd see him fit to her. That was not going to stop him. Her being one of the medics provided a great opportunity. Hypochondria? So be it.
His mind was spiraling out of control.
//
For as long as he could remember, he had dreams (and something he would not dare call visions) about this one girl. As if he was watching glimpses of her life, little moments, bits and pieces. But it was almost constant. He was so used to it at this point that he found it relaxing. It was very confusing growing up. Every adult around him was freaking out when his childhood imaginary friend phase would just not go away. So once he realized that people were thinking he's weird, he just stopped talking about it. It was also a big revelation to him when he found out that other people did not have these visions in their head so intensively. When he was 17 he had an obsession phase, where he researched the fuck out of how brains worked, but nothing seemed to match. His dreams did not provide him with anything specific, no details about place, vague signs that this person he kept seeing at least lived in the same time frame as he did. It was little things he saw and felt, as if her emotions traveled to him. He'd seen her happy, laughing with friends while she tried weed for the first time, getting nervous by her exams and debating whether to brush her teeth in the evening. Her becoming a medic now finally answered few questions. Often he would wonder why was she studying so much. His blurry dreams blocking these specifics out, just to make it all more frustrating. Observing her having a a crush on someone was unnerving and eventually, seeing little things from her romantic relationship just made him supremely mad. He was glad that was over, because at one point, it had started to seriously mess up his mood. He genuinely celebrated the break up. Incredible amounts of little moments and details that were conveyed to him, but no idea on where or who she was. He just had this knowledge in his head about someone who he doubted actually existed.
And now she was probably standing right across the track. It was a lot to take in.
//
Most of the medical team traveled with them, as far as Lando was aware. Never really paid that much of attention to that department until then. So he figured he's only have few days to capture her attention, she might have been local. He was already contemplating moving here to join her life. That's when he decided to get a full medical check up upon request.
He complained nonstop about a pain in his stomach - vague enough for many possibilities having to be ruled out.
It quickly started feeling like playing a video game. Having to jump through levels in order to get to his "boss".
He spent an hour in the medical centre, where he was taken immediately after his first comment about his fictional pain, because everyone still had in fresh memory the saga of Carlos's appendix. "This is gonna be easy" he thought to himself, because one of the first people he saw passing by was her. He was not even trying to hide when observing her. The way her hair fell out of a messy bun. A concentrated look as she was attending one of the staff members, listening attentively and taking care of their wound. The whole place seemed to glow up by her presence. He wondered how it felt when her fingertips touched the skin of another person and was almost jealous of the person she was treating. On par with his bad luck, the drivers had a dedicated doctor on call, so he was taken to a different private room where he had to undergo a full medical scan, with of course nothing being found. When he got out, she was no longer there. All for nothing.
//
The rest of his day was covered in a brain fog, he sort of floated through the media day, feeling like he was not really there. He let Oscar totally step up to be the main star this time. As if he could give a fuck.
Over the years of having to life with this strange connection, he managed to block it out temporarily for moment when he really need to focus. This time, he was doing the exact opposite. Trying to somehow "connect" to this personal bluetooth he had in his head.
Finally, after few hours he felt something. A light wave of anxiety, as she opened her email. Then a wave of disappointment, despair and her giving up. He was more than able to not get affected by her emotions - usually. This time it was sort of in tune with his own mix of emotions, so if he was a downer before it progressed perfectly into him shutting off completely.
//
He managed to completely forget that his latest girlfriend, if that was the right word to use, was coming over. He only realized when he saw a pair of female shoes thrown by the door of his hotel room. A wave of guilt washed over him. He was being an asshole again. As they greeted each other, he tried to kiss her as much as he could, trying to avoid unnecessary conversation. Maybe this reality check was good. He often got lost in his own head, listening sad song to fill this strange void - or he would party too much. Now, there was a real person standing in front of him, a super hot girl who liked him and was not annoying. He figured there was no point in drowning in his own delusions.
Letting her fuck his brains out worked, at least until the next morning.
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sherlock-is-ace · 3 days
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Once again I find myself enjoying the perfect queerplatonic relationship in a fandom while forced to interact with the most qpr erasing people on the fucking planet 🙃
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tossawary · 3 days
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I think one of the keys to non-canon and rarepair relationships for me in fanfiction is that you have to respect the relationships that are already there. Not like in a "you have to do the canon relationships and then break them up first" way, because you can definitely make it so that the canon relationship in question never happened OR was never romantic or sexual if you want. But in a basic characterization issue kind of way.
For example, when I wrote a Shang Qinghua / Yue Qingyuan fic, I was looking at the ways to make that work given the Qijiu and Moshang situations. And I ended up making it so that Qijiu either never had or never fully developed any romantic or sexual feelings in this AU, but they're still inseparable as friends / brothers / platonic soulmates of a kind. You CAN'T write a Yue Qingyuan who doesn't care about Shen Jiu. It's just not on the table in terms of characterization.
(I mean, you could, I suppose, but then it's a case of, "Who the fuck even is this guy anymore? You undid his whole backstory and now he's a completely different person." I do think you can write interesting AU stories focused on character development in which Yue Qingyuan learns to move on after post-canon or in which perhaps Shen Jiu's treatment of Luo Binghe becomes an actual breaking point for their relationship, but even if things somehow get REAL BAD between him and Shen Jiu, I don't really think Yue Qingyuan will ever be able to stop caring completely.)
Likewise, I made it so that Moshang never fell into the master-servant situationship, and ended up as cooperative enemies / distant allies of sorts. But Shang Qinghua still thinks Mobei-Jun is sexy. That's his ideal guy! Airplane Bro still being a little weird about his favorite character is not really negotiable to me, even if he's in love with someone else. He has eyes! He can still look at other men disrespectfully! He just doesn't act on his attraction.
Like, you can totally just sidestep any romantic / sexual feelings and make it so they never existed, in order to pursue your pairing of choice. But you cannot easily deny, in my opinion, the basic fact of a character caring on a basic level about someone important to them. I think it gives weird "you're only allowed to care about your romantic partner / no friends allowed" vibes to just completely cut off all other relationships. There's not a hard line between "love-triangle-fixing polyamory" and "completely isolated from even friendships because maintaining friendships with exes is cheating somehow monogamy" as options here.
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dilemmaontwolegs · 2 days
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The Perfect Life || CL16 {7}
Summary: The first night at Charles’ house is almost ruined before it can even begin. Warnings: angst, light smut WC: 3.2k F1 Masterlist || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven Taglist: RETIRED Head over to my dedicated library blog @dilemmaslibrary and opt to get notifications from there.
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The paper bag in your hands crinkled as you opened it to see what Charles had asked you to carry. “What is this?” 
“Dinner.”
You raised a brow and closed it back up. “Those are ingredients,” you corrected, placing it on the kitchen bench in his apartment. “I hope you aren’t expecting me to cook because you will be bitterly disappointed.”
He laughed as he closed the front door and kicked his shoes off. “It’s all prepared, the pasta just needs boiling but I can do that. Why don’t you take a look around?”
You already planned on being nosey when he wasn’t looking but now you could openly snoop and happily left him to his own devices. Like most apartments in Monaco, it was smaller than you were used to but it was more than enough for a man living on his own. 
You circled the living room and tried not to be envious of all the photos he had hung in frames around the room. Faces you recognised held carefree smiles that they never had in your presence and Charles was no exception. You thought you had seen his real smile but even that was strained compared to what was captured when he was with his friends and family.
“I’m starting to think that frown is just your resting face,” Charles commented as he stepped out of the galley kitchen to see your progress. 
You schooled your face until the lines evened out and a mild look of boredom hid your thoughts as you turned away from the photos and found something that made your heart nearly stop. The manuscript was plain and unassuming on the shelf, the title print small and barely legible on the bare sewn spine, but you knew that book.
“You stole it.”
Charles’ confused gaze followed you to the bookshelf. “What?”
“It wasn’t enough to take him from me but you took our book too,” you muttered as you tugged it from the shelf and ran your fingers across the faded purple inscription in the corner: For Jules. A hint of the berry scented ink still clung to the page and you swallowed the lump in your throat as you opened it to the dog eared page you left behind.
“This was a mistake,” you said as you closed the book and shoved it back on the shelf. If it wasn’t this, it would just be something else- there was too much history to think this could ever work. “I can’t do this, Charles.”
He intercepted your exit, blocking the door with pleading eyes. “Wait, please. I didn’t know it was yours. You can have it back.” 
“I don’t want it back! I want to finish reading it to him but I’ll never get that chance because of you.” You took a step closer, ready to go through him to get out the door but he surprised you by sliding down the white panel until his ass planted on the floor. Charles pulled his knees up and wrapped his arms around them as he looked down to hide in shame.
The moment of silence dragged on as his breath grew as ragged as yours and you both relived that day in the hospital.
“I’m sorry,” he stressed as he threw his head back, the thud heavy against the wood. “I’m fucking sorry! For all of it. I didn’t deserve the time I got with him, I don’t deserve this career - it should have been his, like you. I definitely don’t deserve you.”
You slumped to the floor too with your back to the kitchen cabinets. This was not how you imagined your evening going. The plan had been simple; stay the night with Charles and arrive at the paddock for his first practice together - hard launching the relationship and confirming all the rumours that you had both started.
“When did this become your pity party?” you asked as you studied the herringbone tile floor instead of the enigma sitting opposite you.
Charles’ jaw dropped and he shook his head as he stammered over his words. “It’s not…I’m not…that’s not what…”
“How do you make it through interviews? One question and you’re a blithering mess.” You rolled your eyes and stretched your leg out to nudge his foot. “You are wrong by the way. I wasn’t meant to be Jules’ either.”
“I know.” He nodded and sighed, wiping his nose that had turned pink. “It probably doesn’t change anything but I finished it. I read him that book before he…before he died.”
You pushed yourself up to your feet and offered him your hand. His palm was clammy against your skin and you barely made any effort to pull him up as he did the work himself, rising to his full height in front of you. “You’re right, it doesn’t change anything,” you admitted, watching his shoulders deflate. 
“Figured as much.”
“But,” you said as you held a finger up when he went to move away and he froze, “that was a proper apology that actually felt real.”
“So you forgive me?”
“No, I don’t even know how to do that, but I’m not going to leave.”
He smiled like it was a small victory and enveloped you in one of his spontaneous hugs that you were slowly growing used to. “I don’t know how, but I am going to make it up to you one day. I promise.”
“How about you start with just making dinner?” You stepped out of his embrace and looked around the room with weary eyes. “I’m not going to find any more surprises, am I?”
He chewed his lip as he thought for a moment. “I have his helmet in my office but the door is closed.”
You swallowed deeply and nodded. You were going to avoid that room at all costs. “Keep it that way.”
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Panic gripped you as the bike started to wobble. Your feet tangled in the pedals and your fingers slipped from the brakes before the gravel driveway rapidly came up to meet you. The skin on your knees stung with the dozens of little stones that grazed them and your elbows were in a similar state as you lay sprawled beneath the summer sun. 
“Up you get,” Jules said as he dusted the stones off and picked you up. 
Your bottom lip began to tremble and he shook his head. “There’s no use crying, lapinette, might as well laugh and learn.”
“I don’t want to laugh,” you grumbled, kicking the bike to emphasise your displeasure.
Jules shrugged and picked the bike up, holding it out for you to try once more. “Well, that’s usually when you need to the most.”
You accepted the bike and looked longingly at the trainer wheels he had taken off. The plastic wheels were beside his kart that was propped up on a stand, some of the parts in pieces for him to finish cleaning before he rebuilt it for the race. “Do you think you can win?”
“Absolutely, just like I know you can ride that bike.”
“I fell off.”
He laughed at your attitude and knew you would be a handful when you grew up. Pointing to the driveway he said, “Then you better try again, no? Because if you don’t ride it then I can’t win!” 
You laughed at the stupidity of the statement but rose to the challenge, throwing a leg over the pastel pink bike and ringing the little bell on the handle for good luck. “You better win, Jules.”
You took a deep breath and pushed the pedal down, slowly building momentum. The wind blew your hair back and you laughed as you realised you were doing it. You were biking…straight towards the wrought iron gates.
You jolted awake in the unfamiliar bedroom and found Charles sleeping soundly. Though you had woken before the impact came you knew Jules had saved you. The lanky teen had sprinted after the bike and grabbed you from the seat before it careened into the metal, buckling the front wheel. You hadn’t quite mastered bike riding that week but Jules still won his karting race.
Sleep was as distant as the memory that had resurfaced so you quietly slipped from the room and found yourself at the bookshelf. Sometimes you wished you had no memory, then you couldn’t be reminded of how happy you had been. But, on the flipside, if you didn’t have the memory you feared you would never know what happiness was at all. 
When Charles woke to an empty bed he wondered if you had left after all despite watching you fall asleep beside him. It was only the sound of the balcony door sliding open that let him breathe a sigh of relief and he climbed out of the bed to check on you. A cool breeze left a chill in the air of the living room and Charles grabbed the blanket that hung from the back of the sofa before he stepped outside.
“You’ll catch a cold like that,” he whispered to the night. The Ferrari shirt you wore fell halfway down your thighs but curled up on the outdoor settee had the red material barely covering your underwear and Charles covered the bare skin with the blanket.
“Bad dream?” he asked as he took a seat beside you and noticed the book in your hands. 
“Worse,” you replied. “A good memory.”
Charles draped his arm over the back of your seat, his fingers softly touching your shoulder, and he tucked his legs under the blanket too. “Want to talk about it?”
You gave him a look that made him chuckle before turning your attention back to the page. You were halfway through the story and you could finally appreciate the action thriller now that you understood the vengeance Jack Reacher felt and the way he fought but even that wasn’t enough to distract you from the dream. With an irritated sign, you closed the book and took to searching the stars instead. 
“Charles?” He hummed quietly and you looked across to see his relaxed state watching the dark sky too. “If I ask you something, can you just do it without reading too much into it?”
He tore his eyes away from the brightest star in the sky and frowned. “Uh, I guess it depends on what you ask me.”
“I want you to kiss me.”
His lips curled up in a slow smile and his fingers danced across your collar to the base of your throat as he leaned in. “You don’t have to ask me.”
“It’s not because I like you, I just need something to stop me thinking,” you clarified. 
“Again, you don’t have to ask me.” His lips brushed against yours before they teased your jawline and his breath warmed your ear. “You can use me however you want.”
It was already a messy situation and adding sex to the mix was only going to end badly but you needed it. You needed to forget the thoughts racing through your head and you needed the high of an orgasm. Charles was more than willing to give you both when he carried you back to his bed.
The next time you woke you were in a far better headspace.
You felt the ghost of a kiss on your cheek before Charles left to get ready for the day but you buried your head deeper in the pillow and tried to ignore the sweet ache in your body. It was impossible. Your core throbbed with the memory of how he had filled it and your thighs pressed together in search of friction only to feel the beard burn he had left between them. 
“Fuck,” you groaned as you realised you would not be getting back to sleep.
“Regretting your life choices?” Charles asked from the doorway, two mugs of coffee in his hands and not a lick of clothing to be seen.
“On the list of my regrets, this doesn’t even register,” you said as you sat up and accepted the hot cup, your state of undress not much better. “But it would have been easier if you sucked in bed.”
“How’s that?” He lifted his pillow up against the headboard and took a seat with an amused grin at the compliment.
“For starters, I wouldn’t want to do it again. Things are already complicated enough and now I have technically been fucked by my boss.”
“If you want to get technical, you fucked me,” he pointed out with a smirk. “You were in control, babe.”
You took a deep breath and told yourself it was too early for violence, even if he was right. Charles had been quite clear on the fact you were in control, especially when he sat in much the same position against the headboard and let you ride him into oblivion. “Maybe it will make it on my list of regrets after all.”
“You can worry about them later,” he said after a few mouthfuls of his coffee. “We should start getting ready to head to the track and your hair screams ‘sex’. Bathroom is across the hall, there’s a new toothbrush in the top drawer if you need.”
“Wow, a spare toothbrush? That screams manwhore.”
“I’m just being a gentleman, you’re the one that swallowed.”
You nearly spilled the coffee with the laugh that bubbled out of your mouth unexpectedly. “Ah, there’s the regret. I knew I should have snowballed you.”
His nose wrinkled with the idea and you laughed darkly. Next time he would probably hesitate and remember this conversation. You froze. You were already thinking about the next time you would fuck and that was enough to stun you silent so you busied your mouth finishing the drink. 
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It was hard not to fall in love with the atmosphere of race week in Monaco. Arriving hand in hand with Charles had the desired effect and you were still feeling the ripples of it as the day ended. 
“I’m exhausted and I didn’t even do anything,” you admitted through the headset as the private helicopter whisked you back to Nice. 
Charles flexed his hand that had furiously signed autographs right up until the moment he stepped inside the helicopter. “It gets like that sometimes but I only feel it after everything goes quiet.”
“Are you sure you want to come to this dinner? You can go home and rest. Jacques can fly you back.”
Charles reached across the seat and took your hand even though there was no audience to witness the touch. “And leave you alone with your parents?” he chuckled, shaking his head. “That’s not going to happen.”
“I have managed to survive 25 years on my own.”
“That’s a miracle in itself. I probably wouldn’t be trusted with the steak knife if that was me.”
You grinned at the joke and rested your head on his shoulder. “I like this dark side of you.”
“I suppose that’s a start.”
Your good mood was brought down the moment you spotted the mansion before landing. Too many cars lined the driveway for the simple family dinner your mother planned and you fell quiet as the helicopter touched down in the backyard. 
“What is this?” Charles asked, looking down at his casual jeans and sweatshirt.
“The tenth circle of hell,” you muttered.
Veronica was practically vibrating with excitement when you arrived at the patio door and she held out two tickets for the opera tomorrow night, as requested. “Silly girl. You have dinner with Prince Albert, you can’t even go.”
Charles knew better after seeing the many masks you had adorned to hide your thoughts but it still amazed him how quickly you could become a woman he didn’t recognise. A sneer grew, twisting your smile into a cruel mockery of the one he knew and your eyes narrowed as you swiped the tickets from her hand.
“Why didn’t you tell me that before?”
“I tried, but that’s what you get for being a spoiled little brat.”
“Alicia! My room, now!” Your voice carried through the mansion and you stormed up the stairs with Charles following behind, his cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment. The maid was already waiting outside your bedroom door when you arrived and you barrelled inside, slamming the door shut in Veronica’s smirking face.
The dress hanging in the closet was still wrapped in the garment bag and you took it off the hanger, holding it out to Alicia. “Get this dress out of my sight! I never want to see it again.”
Alicia looked a little shocked at the outburst you needed to be heard through the door. “But it is McQueen.”
“I don’t care!” You lowered your voice to a whisper and reached into your pocket. “Here’s two tickets to La Bohème, take the dress and go with Javier. You didn’t think I forgot your anniversary, did you? Go.”
Tears filled Alicia’s eyes and she threw her arms around you. “Thank you.”
You shook your head and sincerely said, “You deserve more than this.”
Alicia dipped at the waist and delicately hung the dress over her arm as she walked to the door. Veronica saw the tears in Alicia’s eyes and shook her head as the quiet maid rushed down the stairwell.
“Your father will hear about this tantrum.”
You tipped your nose up and crossed your arms smugly. “I’m his only child, that makes me his favourite by default. Now run along and tell him.”
Veronica turned on her heel with a scoff and you closed the door before sighing heavily. You would probably pay for the insolence in one way or another but it was worth it.
“Why did you do that?” Charles asked as he reached past your hip and locked the door.
“I couldn’t pay for the tickets myself and they already think the worst of me, might as well play the fool for a good cause.”
Charles opened his arms and you stepped into the embrace. He could see how draining the act was and couldn’t wait until the day you left Nice. “You’re a good person,” he said quietly before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.
“I don’t think the guests downstairs would agree with you. I don’t even know why they are here.”
You found out soon enough when you emerged from your room dressed in more appropriate attire. Just as you suspected, it was punishment and you would play the fool once again for your mother’s entertainment. You felt sick seeing the grand piano in the dining hall and your fingers stiffened at the thought of sitting in front of the guests to play at her whim.
“Are you okay?” Charles asked as he saw your pallor fade.
Forcing the discontent away, you smiled in time for the first guest to spot your entrance into the room. “Just peachy, Charles. Ready to act lovesick?”
He didn’t need to act, and you found it all too easy that maybe it wasn’t acting either. Your body fit perfectly into the curve of his arm and you moved together through the room making introductions. But all too soon your mother dragged you away and snapped her finger at the piano.
“The Economy Minister favours Beethoven,” she whispered with a look to the man your father was for lack of a better word, schmoozing. “Don’t fuck this up.”
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hyukaslvr · 3 days
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strong enough | J. Jungkook (3)
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<series masterlist
pairing: Jungkook x (f) reader
genre/tags: idol! Jungkook, idol! reader, idiot exes to lovers, slow burn ; k-drama feels (our beloved summer but not at the same time), angst, drama, fluff, smut
warnings: foul/explicit language, alcohol consumption, unhealthy coping mechanisms, feelings of helplessness, insecurities; commitment issues & emotionally constipated characters, panic attacks, reader is harsh towards Jungkook, Jungkook is a meanie!, mentions of old abuse (major trigger warning!!), talk about blood and wounds
w.c: aproxx 11.2
series summary: you and Jungkook have too many personal problems, during and after your relationship and it keeps getting brought up. you both had tried multiple times to ignore the fact you were both struggling mentally and physically due to your workplace, but you always run back to each other. maybe one day, one day you'll get back to each other, with all your problems handled, maybe not. all you want is for him to shine like he always does, all he wants is you.
a/n at very bottom!
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To my love, my forever. You will soon find out the reason why I am the way am I. Give me some time, my love, I will express everything and more to you. Soon, you’ll have everything once I am able to love and care for myself the way I want to do to you. You deserve everything and more than what I could ever give you, and I will be there for you always. I may never give you this, I may never allow you to read this. But just know, you mean so much to me. Even if I’m a pain in the ass, or if I piss you off, you will always be the person who helped me want to change for the better. I know it may seem like i’m leaving you behind, but pushing you away is the best way for me and you to be able to find ourselves. Once we are settled and ready, I will never let you go, ever again. Mark my words, use them against me, but I know that once you let me in, I’ll never leave your side ever again. You’re my one and only, forever. You are my future, my light, the person who drags me to be right. You mean so much to me and more. But for now, let me go to become the one that deserves your love and wellbeing. Take care of yourself, Jungkook, you will do many good things in life, with or without me.
“i think you should give it to him,” one of your members slur out, making your already wobbly head tilt up to her as she hiccups for the 5th time that same hour, you sighed and your head pounded as your squinted tightly to look at her, “seriously! i think he would want closure that way,”
Jungkook definitely did. he knew that when you wrote letters, you meant every little thing. he knew something happened between you and your ex, his name is like a slap in the face to you, and he could always notice.
his hands started to shake as he continued to read your note, he didn’t know how you came all the way to his house just to ring the door bell and drop it off. he was even shocked to notice his name in your handwriting on the top of the note. he wasn’t mad about it, he was just so, so sad. his eyes burned as another drop fell onto his lap. Jungkook knew it was for the best, but why does it hurt so bad and why does he feel like he’ll never get better while you do?
Jungkook didn’t want to think that way, but he did. he always did, he hurts to see you go but hurts even more to see you shine without him. he kept all your little notes in a box, he was really considering giving it back to you since it was at some of your most vulnerable times. he wouldn’t want to keep these just in case he snoops through them, like he’s doing right now as he was putting the other note in there along with the tons of others.
one of them wrote a song that you made about him, him never leaving you and the way you love him. it breaks his heart more, knowing that you’re no longer around, and that he just keeps fucking up.
when you wake up the next morning, your hungover member told you about a box she found outside the door step with your name on it, your ears ring as you stand in front of the box sitting on your bed, biting the inside of your cheek because this was Jungkook’s box. it had a polaroid of the two of you with shots in your hands on his balcony last summer. it was his favorite picture of you both and wanted to keep it with all the letters you even written him.
you pace around your room for like and hour, biting your lip and running your hand through your hair to calm yourself down. it finally felt like you guys were officially over, no matter how many times you’ve broken up. when you opened it finally, there was a new one, one you definitely didn’t write. you don’t even remember going to his house and giving him the one you were gonna keep for your sake.
it was Jungkook’s hand writing, you knew it from the back of your palm, literally as you have a tattoo that he gave you himself. it read,
forever
and looking at it makes you sick. you felt like crap anytime you thought of him, what you had put him through, all the stuff he doesn’t know about you. you knew him so well, but did he actually even know you, truly? it made you want to cry, the tears lining your waterline and you fight the urge.
you give yourself time before opening up his letter, preparing yourself for the worst or to cry. when you start reading it, you felt like he was there with you. it felt as if he was pacing around your room, looking you dead in the eyes and telling you everything you’ve been wanting to hear, but at the wrong time.
I miss you a lot, I know I say that a lot, but it’s true. I’m glad you wrote me this, I’m glad you’re trying to find ways to open up to me, I’m glad you love me. You are my everything, I want what’s best for you, and if it’s not me then so be it. You deserve the whole fucking world, and I hope you know I tried so hard to give it to you. Maybe, in the long run, we can be happy together. Maybe we can be able to know each other truly, I always wanted to. I believe in right person, wrong time, because you’ll forever be my person, even if i’m not in the picture. I love you, ______, I always will.
you wanted to sob, you didn’t even know what to do. you had dropped the note off not expecting anything back, but getting everything back? even a letter from him, confessing how much he loves and cares for you. you didn’t know how to feel, if it was closure or not. to you, yours was supposed to be. his, his was a love letter, you’ll never let go of it.
you had one more promotion for you group, and you had to prepare in so many ways. you had to practice tons, and practing handling your emotions until you’re a zombie to what you truly feel, you couldn’t handle being around Jungkook for long. it’s crazy, how much you used to look at him thinking you’d never do anything to hurt him, yet you’re over here making him suffer because you are in your head. it tears at the deepest parts of you, and it makes you feel so much at once.
so when it came to the event, you felt your knees lock when you saw him sitting with his team. he looked breathtaking, and it sucks that you can’t look at him for long before you cry because he looks too good. Jungkook always looked good, but whenever you wanted to ignore him, it’s like he knows and wants to look that fine. you gulp hard because walking to over your assigned seats, a couple seats back behind them but at an angle to a way that you can see every part of Jungkook, his hands and thighs especially.
ones that put you through hell, sent you to another universe is what he would of said and has said before, smoking off your balcony as you sat on his lap with your legs shaking trying to not fall off. he laughed as he smacked your thighs, watching them shake more as you practically whine in soreness.
he took another puff off his cig before putting it down on his designated ash tray, but even knowing you didn’t smoke, he kissed you hard, forcing the hot smoke into your mouth and through your pipes, allowing him to do anything to you because you were obsessed with everything he did.
“fucked you out, huh, princess?” he said against your ear as he gave you a second to breathe, making you almost choke as his hand started to move down and between your thighs, giving them a squeeze before going deep between them to touch you where you shook the most.
let’s just say, the memory had your legs close tightly together. the thought of how much have gave you that night, it made you miss him even more for just taking care of you like he said he would. you could feel it starting to stick against your skin, immediately wanting to go to the bathroom.
you thought you were stable enough to walk down the stairs in front of all the idols and fans including, instead you almost dropped face first into the steps instead someone’s hand wrapped around your waist and around the inside of your thigh, gripping it hard as they held you from falling to your death infront of thousands of people.
“your shoes too big for you, baby?”
you really thought you were going crazy, that his presence was just teasing you. but as your eyes dragged themselves down to the hand around the inside of your thigh, you weren’t going crazy. the tattoos proving who the man really was and how his thumb was very close to your throbbing clit. you shivered before quicking bowing at him once you leave his grip and speed walking towards the exit.
the moment you got alone in a hallway, you looked around before pulling out your phone to text your leader where you were going to be, the bathroom, before you hear a door open behind you. you go to put your phone away, but a tight grip around your waist turns you towards the person, your phone falling on to the floor and your mouth to open up, perfect for the attacker to kiss you hard.
another hand grabs your hair and you immediately knew who it was based on the way he was holding you. he knew, and knew it was because of him. that’s all your thought about when his lips were softly against yours, until you felt his hands creeping up. he just knew how to distract you from the facts and knows how to get you to enjoy his attack.
“can we talk soon, princess?” he whispers lowly in your ear once he pulls away from your now desperate lips trying to reach his. you whimper at the nickname, one that just rolls off his tongue in such a degrading way, he grabs your chin softly, turning your face to face him. his eyes invited yours, and the longer you looked into them, the more you felt entranced by him.
“talk about what?” you sighed into his hold, which he notices and gives you your favorite smile in the whole world. it hard to ignore his hands gripping your waist, your hands clinging onto his dress shirt as he holds you, you didn’t expect to be in this position.
“we will talk later tonight, i’ll pick you up?”
“how, with what car-”
“i’ll figure it out, anything for you,” he presses his forehead against yours, making your eyes squeeze shut as he lets out a little chuckle because of your reaction to his proximity being so close to you, you could almost feel his breath against your lips. “you know i’ll do whatever i need to do to see you, i will figure out a way to see you later tonight, bunny, i promise,” he kisses your nose softly before letting you go without your even realizing he picked up your phone for you, a smile across his face as you nodded your head for him.
Jungkook didn’t give you a time, or a place to when he was going to pick you up. before you left the event, you had asked him what he was planning on doing with you and he just told you that you’ll have to wait and find out. Jungkook knew how to make you worry about what could happen. what should you even wear? is he taking me somewhere to eat? it’s kinda late for that-
doink
something just hit your window as you were pulling your pants up, you almost tripped in shock but managed to pull them up and fix yourself before going to your window. there he was, the man of your dreams, the love of your life, standing down there searching for more rocks to toss at your window.
you cracked your dorm room window open, not even wanting to question how he managed to get over the brick wall to get into the dorms, and he smiles when he sees your head peaking from the bottom of the window. he pats his hands on his thighs while you watch him with curiosity.
“get down here bunny, we have a lot to do tonight,” he stood up straight, hands put in his pockets as he stared off at you. you would of jumped right there into his arms after that nickname, you almost whined before nodding your head like an idiot and shutting your window.
you managed to sneak out, grabbed your shoes at the front and headed out from the back blind spot and running to where Jungkook stood, his hands tucked in his pockets to stay warm. his left arm raised so you could wrap your arm around it, a habit of the both of you. you just ignored the bad feelings and wrapped your arm around his, feeling his arm tighten around yours as you both started to walk to the car.
“you gonna tell me where we’re going, Jeon?” you tilt your head, your left knee against his center console as your left side rested on his passenger seat. his hand slid up to your knee, leaving you in shock as he gripped it in warning.
“stop asking questions, baby,” he tapped his finger on your knee, not even bothering to look your way. you huffed as you closed your eyes, trying to ignore his thumb moving against your thigh now, his hand resting against it too.
“Jungkook, you know we can be doing this again. i know you remember what happened last time,” you warned, your head felt like it was spinning, none of this felt real. Jungkook bit his lip ring in thought, he just wanted to talk to you and apologize. he always wants to talk to you even if he’s been rude.
“______, what do you think i’m going to do to you tonight?” he spoke deeply, it sent waves through your spine, and down to your poor kitty. it’s crazy, what this big eyed man can do to you with only his hand on your thigh while he speaks to you like your his.
“i- i don’t know, what are you asking me? i’m just confused why you’re doing this-”
“what do you want me to do to you tonight, baby? is there something else bothering you that only i can fix?” his hand rubs your inner thigh, occasionally softly squeezing the skin closest to where you needed help the most. “i’ll do whatever you want me to do to you, you just have to speak up, darling. is that okay? can you do that for me, princess?”
you almost moaned, gasping at his eagerness to help you with whatever you want, and you knew he meant that. “Jungkook, we can’t be doing thing again, as much as we want to-”
“fuck that and fuck no contact, we were doing good as fuck the last time we were friends. can we not be friends, baby?”
“that’s why! you keep calling me my favorites, you can’t do that to me..” you whined, you wanted to hide away as he giggled at how you whined. when the car slowly starts to come to a stop, you got reminded that the whole time you were talking to him, getting teased by him, he was driving. “Jungkook… where are we?”
“let me help you out and show you,” he smiled, and you just knew that you had to trust him, why? because he’s Jeon Jungkook, why wouldn’t you trust the love of your life?
when he open your door, hand already reaching for his as he helped you out of the car, the smell of salt hit your face in a whiff, making you smile at the moment you had at this beach with Jungkook. but why here? why did he want to talk here?
you didn’t trust your voice, watching his open his back door to grab a blanket and cigs, which you thought he quit, with a lighter and a flashlight. you didn’t say a word as you hugged onto his arm as he walked to a specific place, your guys place. the place where he gave you head for the very first time, you found sand up there for at least a day after that.
“do you trust me, sugar?” Jungkook asked you, tugging you to sit next to him on the blanket over the cold sand at the dark lonely beach. it’s like he knew what you were worried about, could you trust him again? it’s not like he broke your trust, it’s about you trusting yourself around him. if anything besides talking happens tonight, and you guys become exactly what you were afraid of becoming, you won’t know what to do with yourself.
it’s a bit selfish you thought, as his hand rested against your shoulder as you snuggled against his neck, breathing in only Jungkook and a little bit of salt. you loved this, but it couldn’t get any farther than this. just small, and slight, touches and sometimes kisses, only at certain times. the sound of the waves crashing tingled your ears, debating if you should listen to his heartbeat or not.
“do you know why i want you out here with me tonight, baby?” his voice vibrated your cheek as he spoke, his fingers gliding against the thin fabric of your long sleeved shirt. you hummed, you felt him swallow before you moved your head to face him.
“i wouldn’t have asked you that a million times in the car, Jungkook,” he smiles when your eyes finally reach his. he used to ask you, what did you see when you looked into his eyes? you usually just laughed it off or ignored the question, but now you think you know the questions answer. Home. in other words, Jungkook was your confort, the one you would go to, the one who makes you feel the safest, the one who keeps you feeling warm. Jungkook was your favorite.
Jungkook leans in, you can almost feel his breath against the wind, you almost forget where you are when you look deeply into his eyes. he leans so close to you that you could almost kiss him. you feel his arm wrap around your waist, pulling you closer- and closer to him, until your hovering above him.
you looked down at him, his hand sliding down your waist and on to your thigh to swing your leg over his body. he’s got you now, almost spread wide for him as his eyes glazed your entire body, making your shiver.
“let’s that about why you were so wet when i caught you from eating shit in front of everyone today, huh? or maybe… why you’re so wet right now, was it from the car ride? you just couldn’t wait, hm? baby?” he smacked your thigh, and you almost whimper at his words, “sit down on me, love. you know you want to. i’ll do anything you want me to, just let me in this one or more times and you won’t regret it this time,”
oh boy, you were in for a ride. baby, princess, sugar, darling, bunny, love. hearing that one burned, deeply in two places. your poor heart as you feel his hands grip your sides, and your poor throbbing cunt that it about to get slammed onto his hard on resting below you. either or, you know you’re safe and whatever happens can be dealt with. why? because you’re with Jeon Jungkook, why wouldn’t it be fine?
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a/n: holy shit, this took forever and i sincerely apologize!! i love how this episode turned out and i will give you guys a slight warning! spicy scenes are coming up and I’m not backing down from this. it will be the dirtiest, most greatest- yeah! anyways, thank you for your patience, i love you all🥹
taglist: @loumin908 @heartjiminie @cuntessaiii @parkinglot-nights @minsoa97kor @jkgirlfr @lavendersugarplum @gaebestie @whoa-jo @kp0pficdump @yunholuv @skzthinker @shwkoqp18 @veemegatron @kaiparkerwifes @alextgef @nerdycheol @nightappple @nlr1606 @chl0buggy
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pin-k-ink · 2 days
Text
masquerade // gojo satoru
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tw ⇢ teacher-student relationship, petnames, sexual tension, teasing, possessive!gojo, jealous sex, rough sex, implied age gap, dirty talk, unprotected sex
wc ⇢ 4.9k
a/n: i headcanon that gojo would definitely fuck his genderbent version
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"No way, there's absolutely no way I'm losing this bet!" you declared, eyes shining with competitive determination.
Gojo simply chuckled, running a hand through his silver hair as he leveled you with an infuriatingly calm look. "We'll see about that, pretty girl. I hope you're prepared to eat those words."
You stuck your tongue out at your mentor in a childish display, ignoring the spark of heat that flared in your belly at his teasing endearment. Squaring your shoulders, you focused back on the task at hand - besting Gojo Satoru in an impromptu cursed tool duel.
The terms had been simple: whoever disarmed or immobilized the other first would get to choose their partner's costume for the upcoming Halloween soiree being thrown at the Kamo Estate. As one of the oldest and most prestigious jujutsu families, their holiday celebrations were always a lavish affair that attracted sorcerers of status from across the region. Needless to say, you were determined to avoid any humiliating outfits by claiming victory.
You circled each other warily, fingers twitching in preparation to summon your respective tools. A bead of sweat trickled down your temple as you tried to predict Gojo's opening move. Despite his perpetually laid-back demeanor, he was a finely honed weapon - powerful, precise and lightning-quick to strike.
Seconds ticked by in tense stillness. Then, without warning, Gojo was a blur of motion, pale hair whipping around his face as he twisted and struck out with one long arm. You threw yourself sideways in a desperate dodge, boots skidding across the training room floor as you pivoted to face him again. But he was already capitalizing on your evasion with a flurry of sharp jabs and slicing arcs, each one guided by a hair's breadth from clipping your defenses.
Cursing, you backpedaled furiously, mind racing to formulate a counterstrategy as you parried and deflected his relentless assault. He was aiming to herd you into an inescapable corner, you realized - a position from which he could use his greater size and strength to pin you effortlessly.
Gritting your teeth, you waited for the precise moment his next overextended swing left the barest opening in his defenses. Then, with every ounce of your cursed power thrumming through your limbs, you twisted and launched yourself into a furious set of combos.
Gojo's eyes widened fractionally as you unleashed everything you had, pushing him back in a dizzying flail of fists, elbows, and knees. You could sense his surprise at the sheer force behind each blow, the speed and fluidity of your combinations leaving him unable to predict the source of your next attack.
For one blazing, triumphant second, you caught a glimpse of victory as you arced into a spinning heel kick aimed squarely at his temple. But then Gojo was there, materializing inside your defenses with that masterful grasp of space and time that made him nigh untouchable. One second you were on the offensive, the next you were crashing into the unforgiving floorboards with a breathless "oof," limbs twisted and cursed tools clattering uselessly away.
"Well now," Gojo purred, looming over your winded form with a satisfied grin. "Looks like I win again, baby girl." His hand was warm and calloused where it encircled your wrist, grip light but unbreakable.
Groaning, you flopped back against the mats in a dramatic display, skin still tingling from your exertions. "That's so not fair," you whined petulantly. "I totally had you on the ropes that time!"
Gojo barked out a laugh, nudging your side with the toe of one shoe. "In your dreams, maybe," he teased. "A good effort though. Maybe next time you'll actually pose a challenge."
Pushing up onto your elbows, you leveled your best glare at the infuriatingly smug man. "You are SO going to regret those words, sensei. Just wait until you see what ridiculous costume I put you in next year!"
His grin widened in a way that made your stomach flip with anticipation. "I'm counting on it, beautiful."
The following week was spent in a whirlwind of preparation as the Kamo Estate staff readied for the biggest event of their social calendar - the annual All Hallows' Eve Masquerade Gala. Gojo, curse him, remained completely unhelpful about his chosen costume, waving off your repeated inquiries with that maddening enigmatic smile of his.
"You'll just have to wait and see," was all he would say, the gleam in his eyes promising delicious torment. "It's going to be a surprise."
And surprise you he did, on the night of the Gala when he finally unveiled your "costume" with a dramatic flourish of cursed energy. Lying innocently on your bed was an all-too-familiar set of clothes - Gojo's signature uniform of a plain white undershirt and billowing black slacks and jacket.
You sputtered incoherently, gesturing between him and the outfit laid out before you. "You cannot be serious!"
But that bastard just grinned back at you, all sharp canines and twinkling mischief. "Oh, I'm dead serious. You wanted an embarrassing costume, pretty girl? Well here it is, in all its glory."
Frantically, you cycled through a dozen different protests and pleading arguments, each of which he deftly waved aside with infuriatingly logical counterpoints. By the time he was done dismantling your defenses, you had no choice but to grumble your capitulation and snatch up the clothes, stomping towards the bathroom to change with as much dignity as you could muster.
"You're going to regret this," you threw over your shoulder with as much venom as you could muster. "Just you wait!"
Once the door clicked shut behind you, however, your feisty attitude melted away into pure girlish giddiness. Sure, wearing your mentor's clothes in public could be considered a bit humiliating. But you'd be lying if you denied how the thought of being surrounded by Gojo's scent, of wearing the same outfit that clung to his broad frame didn't spark a fluttering warmth low in your belly.
Quickly stripping down, you took a moment to appraise the garments with an appreciative eye, fingers trailing over the soft cotton of the undershirt. Even just holding it up to your body, the excess fabric was dwarfing your slender frame adorably. Giddiness mounting, you slipped it on carefully, rolling the cuffs up your forearms.
The fitted white fabric pulled taut across your chest, the sloping vee of the collar frequently slipping off one shoulder to tease at the soft swell of cleavage it created. A possessive thrill shot down your spine as you adjusted it back into place. This shirt, the one that skimmed and hinted at the sculpted planes of Gojo's body, now lovingly outlined the feminine curves it had never been intended to cup so intimately.
Restless heat blossomed under your skin at the thought of him seeing you wearing it later tonight - tousled, practically spilling out in all the right places. Would his gaze linger as unsubtly as yours always did on him? Or would his effortless cool manage to rein in any excessive reaction?
Anticipation began curling tight in your core as you recalled the thousands of lingering, liquid-hot glances you'd exchanged with Gojo over your years of training. The way his stare could scorch across your bare skin, turning mundane movements into something charged and provocative as he drank in your form with ravenous intensity. What you wouldn't give to see that look of blatant male appreciation washing over his handsome features as you showed up in this sinfully snug getup.
Shaking yourself free of the dizzying fantasy, you took a steadying breath before eyeing the slacks with disappointment. As you suspected, they were entirely too loose around your hips and thighs to be flattering. With a frustrated huff, you shimmied out of them, leaving them in a puddle on the floor.
Your gaze landed on a pair of worn but buttery-soft leather boots tucked in the back of your closet. A wicked grin curved your lips as you tugged them on, lacing the tall shafts all the way up to mid-thigh. The supple leather embraced your legs like a second skin, accentuating the toned lines and feminine swell of your calves in a deliciously provocative way.
You barely recognized yourself in Gojo's oversized undershirt paired with those thigh-high boots. Instead of the properly buttoned-up appearance his uniform conveyed on him, you oozed a wanton, edible sort of allure - all tousled hair, stretched cotton, and miles of creamy leg on display. Your mouth went dry imagining how Gojo might react to such a tantalizing twist on his borrowed look.
'Two can play at this game, sensei,' you thought wickedly, eyeing the smolderingly seductive lines and hints of bare skin your borrowed outfit provided.
After securing the jacket, you realized simply styling your own hair wouldn't quite achieve the full Gojo effect you were going for. A sly smile curved your lips as you procured a long, straight white wig from the depths of your costume trunk.
Carefully situating the silky strands, you fluffed and arranged them until they tumbled nearly to your waist in a perfect mimicry of Gojo's signature silver mane. Coupled with the oversized uniform draped over your frame, the full look was startlingly effective.
The only thing missing now was the pièce de résistance. A wicked grin curved your lips as you rooted around in his cupboard to procure a familiar black-framed pair of glasses. Pulling them on, you struck an exaggerated pose, imitating that cocky smirk and calculating squint he so loved to level at you during training.
"Hollow technique: Purple," you growled in a lower register, jabbing an imperious finger into the mirror. "Tch, not even worth the effort."
Giggles bubbled up uncontrollably at your shoddy impersonation. But one glance back at your reflection snuffed the laughter from your throat instantly. Never could you have predicted just how...devastating the whole ensemble would look together.
Raking a heated gaze down your figure, you took in the panels of taut, stretched fabric clinging deliciously to every curve. The alcohol collar and unbuttoned plackets teased at tantalizing swells of cleavage while the cuffed hems allowed teasing flashes of toned legs to peek through. Paired with the untamed silver and signature spectacles, the entire look was pure, potent temptation - a wicked combination of dishevelment and restraint, of masculine and feminine.
You spun and posed, watching in the mirror as the loosened shirttails flared out around your hips, providing glimpses of the black lacy panties painted onto your backside. A rosy flush crept up your throat at the blatant allure, suddenly unsure if you possessed the sheer audacity to debut this ensemble publicly.
A sharp rap at the bathroom door startled you from your reverie. "You about ready in there?" Gojo's husky voice filtered through the wood, sending a shiver of pure sin down your spine. "Or do I need to come in and help get you properly dressed, pretty girl?"
You swallowed hard, breath catching at the dark promise laced through his tone. Was it your imagination, or did he somehow already know the delectable effect his clothes would have draped over your frame? The thought had your blood pounding anew in a heady rush of nervous excitement.
"I'll be right out," you called back, somewhat proud of yourself for keeping your voice steady despite the tremor in your limbs. One last heated glance at the mirror and your reflection was all but searing itself into the backs of your eyelids. If Gojo thought he could torment you further by forcing this depraved twist of a costume upon you, then he had sorely underestimated your own deviant brand of mischief.
Straightening your spine, you threw open the bathroom door and sauntered out wearing every ounce of sordid confidence you could muster. Gojo stood leaned against the wall, arms crossed negligently over that sculpted chest you knew so well from countless clandestine ogling sessions. But the second his visible eye landed on you, his entire body seized up in an unmistakable full-body jolt.
With no small degree of heady satisfaction, you watched distinct shock and something infinitely darker flare across those striking features you admired so profoundly. His stare raked over your figure in a molten sweep, nostrils flaring as he scented the air with unrestrained hunger. And lower, beneath the loose vee of his unbuttoned slacks, you caught the unmistakable twitching of rapidly interested anatomy.
Well well, it seemed turnabout was fair play in the battle of temptation. You offered a simpering smirk, propping one hand on a cocked hip in a move you'd seen him execute a hundred times - legs shifting just enough to highlight the pleasant distraction at his groin.
"Like what you see...sensei?" The endearment dripped from your tongue like poisoned honey as you tracked his body's visceral reaction. "I modeled it pretty closely after the real thing, don't you think?"
A tremor rocked through his deceptively relaxed stance as the full implications sank in, gaze darkening perceptibly when you toyed with the fabric riding up your thighs. Slowly, he drank you in from tousled crown all the way down to where his shirttails brushed teasingly over the bottom of your ass before slashing back up in another unhurried glide of naked appreciation.
The heavy weight of his undisguised desire washed over you in dizzying waves, stoking the tendrils of challenge and want already suffusing your bloodstream. You felt powerful in a way you rarely allowed yourself to embrace - beautiful and profoundly sensual under the searing brand of Gojo's attention.
"You look..." he started roughly, pupils blown wide before Adam's apple bobbed in a harsh swallow. "Sinful," he finally rasped, the single syllable loaded with enough molten promise to scorch. "Absolutely fucking sinful, pretty girl."
A punched-out gasp slipped free at the blatant admission, need guttering low and hot in your pussy. Bold, you took one pointed step closer, until the fabric of his borrowed jacket brushed softly against his abdomen. The tips of your breasts skated lightly across the clean lines of his chest as you leaned in, mouth brushing his ear in a ghosting caress.
"So do something about it, sensei," you growled, nails raking lightly down the front of his shirt. "Show me how sinful you want to be."
For one tremulous heartbeat, you thought he might actually give in to the simmering tension and haul you bodily against him right then and there. His jaw flexed tellingly, fingers flexing at his sides as muscles coiled for action. But then he blew out a long, shuddering breath, spine straightening as the burning intensity blinked out behind his lids.
"Don't tempt me, baby," he rasped in a low purr, tone thick with sinful promise that had your knees quaking. One large, calloused palm cupped your jaw reverently, angling your face up towards his in a searing look of abject want. "I'm only a man, and you look good enough to eat in that little getup."
He allowed his thumb to drag slowly over the plush swell of your lower lip, gaze riveted while you instinctively parted on a shuddery inhale. Your senses swam with the woodsy undercurrent of his cologne, the scorching heat of skin and muscle thrumming just beyond reach.
"But sadly, we have somewhere to be tonight," Gojo continued, voice pitched quieter yet somehow infinitely more powerful in your close proximity. His eyes raked over you again, taking in the way his shirt barely contained your curves and how you'd opted to forgo the slacks.
Instead, a pair of wicked black leather boots laced all the way up to the middle of your thighs framed your bare legs deliciously. He groaned low in his throat at the sight of so much skin on display, gaze heating further when he noticed the full, straight silver wig cascading nearly to your waist in a perfect mimicry of his hairstyle.
"And if I started getting a taste of you now...well, I wouldn't be able to stop. Not until I'd thoroughly ruined you for the rest of the night's events."
Your mouth went bone dry as graphic imaginings of his sinful promise ricocheted across your consciousness. Unconsciously, your tongue flicked out to wet your lips, silently imploring his thumb to dip between them, to caress heated skin and let you suckle on the rough pad.
But Gojo simply grinned wolfishly, knowing far too well the images he'd conjured behind your hooded gaze. "Easy there, pretty girl," he crooned, all indulgent heat and dark delight. "Soon enough you can have all the punishment you can handle. First though, we have to attend a party."
In an effort to regain some scrap of composure, you cleared your throat, ignoring the shaky rasp. "I'm not sure I can pull off that hair," you countered weakly, reaching up to attempt taming the silver strands. To your utter dismay, Gojo's hand shot out and clamped around your wrist, effortlessly thwarting your movements.
God, he couldn't get over the delicious recreation of his look - the fitted shirt straining at the buttons, those long, lean legs accentuated by the knee-high leather...it was as if he'd been stripped bare and repackaged as the most tantalizing, irresistible version of himself imaginable.
"Don't," he commanded, voice dropping into that smooth, spine-tingling bass that infallibly left you aching and molten. His free hand wound through the tousled locks, mussing them further into resembling his artfully mussed style. "Leave it just like this. Every time I glance over, I want to be reminded of how utterly delicious you look in my clothes. So very pretty for me."
A delirious sound punched out of your core at his gravelly praise, knees going watery at the second heady rush of promised debauchery glimmering in those devilish blue eyes. God, how you burned to give in and let him utterly wreck you right then and there. But the iron bands of his behemoth self-control held firm.
"Now then," he practically growled, punctuating the words with a scorching press of bodies, "I believe we have a party to attend? Hmm, pretty girl?"
You managed a shaky nod, delirious with wanting. How much longer could you keep dancing around this undeniable inferno?
At the Gala, every eye was instantly trained on you from the moment you arrived on Gojo's arm. You could feel the weight of hungry stares caressing your body as you moved through the crowd, taking in your blatant mimicry of Gojo's look from the glossy wig to the clinging shirt. More than one leering partygoer let their gaze linger just a bit too long on the exposed expanses of thigh and cleavage.
For his part, Gojo seemed to bask in the absolute chaos you were causing. One broad palm never left the small of your back, possessively guiding you through the throngs of people while sending a clear message to any who dared approach - this pretty little thing belonged to him.
And oh, how you reveled in his proprietary attitude. Something low and wicked in your core thrilled to be so openly claimed, desired with such naked ferocity in front of all these esteemed strangers. Gojo's intense stare scarcely left you for more than a few seconds, tracking your every move with a heated focus that bordered on predatory.
More than once, you slanted a sultry glance in his direction, lower lip caught between your teeth as you preened shamelessly under his ravenous regard. His visible eye would instantly darken to cobalt, jaw ticking with barely restrained hunger before he forcibly dragged his attention back to whatever politician or clan head was fawning for his attention.
"Down, boy," you purred at one point, leaning in so your pouty murmur brushed hot against the shell of his ear. "Don't make me put you in timeout, sensei."
The low, guttural rumble that punched out of Gojo's chest sent delicious frissons of heat licking through your veins. You giggled privately at how his fingers flexed against your hip, thumb rubbing distracting little circles into the jut of bone.
"Oh I'll show you time out," he growled back through a smile placid enough to fool the nobles milling nearby. "Just wait until I get you alone later, pretty girl. I'm going to teach you all about punishment."
A full-body shudder rocked through you at the dark promise, nipples pebbling painfully beneath the thin cotton. Every nerve was alight with giddy anticipation at what delicious retribution Gojo might have in store for your cheekiness.
Your little game of teasing cat and mouse continued in that vein for most of the evening. He would pin you with those unholy bedroom eyes, gaze dropping conspicuously to the shadows hinting at your body's secrets beneath the too-small uniform. In retaliation, you'd arch into him with a sugary innocent expression, reveling in the way his pupils would blow wide and his breath would stutter over a barely perceptible growl. The heated charge between you grew thicker and headier with every tortuous brush of skin and wicked murmur exchanged.
Eventually, it all became too much for even Gojo's formidable restraint. You were draped over one of the antique sofas, legs crossed in a way that allowed the rumpled white shirt to slip rakishly up your thighs, when he suddenly materialized before you like a force of nature.
His large hand encircled your bare ankle in a scalding grip as piercing blue eyes bored into yours from behind the familiar black frames. You shivered at the mute intensity of his stare, that intoxicating aura of power and sin rolling off him in waves as he slowly, inexorably dragged you upright and flush against his chest.
"That's it, pretty girl," he rasped into the heated hollow beneath your ear. The words were velvet soft yet laced with enough dominant possession to have you melting against his solid frame. "I've been more than patient with you all night. But enough is enough - you've tested every last ounce of control I have."
You shuddered violently as his mouth grazed your jaw in a hot, openmouthed glide. "Sensei..." you whimpered, not even sure what you were pleading for anymore.
"Shh, I've got you," he murmured, a scorching palm settling at the small of your back to guide you through the gawking crowd. "Time to go, baby. You and I have a... private lesson to attend."
Somewhere beyond the thudding rush of arousal, you recognized the distinct clearing of throats and murmured whispers from the nearby guests as you allowed Gojo to propel you towards the exits. But it was impossible to care when he was caging you against him with such blatant feral intent, muscles locked into coiling restraint like a panther poised to pounce on its prey.
The cool night air hit your overheated skin like a slap once you stumbled outside. Gojo didn't so much as pause before scooping you up into his arms in a bridal carry, cursed energy already whipping around you in preparation to activate his Infinite Void technique.
"Hold on tight, pretty girl," he warned, the normally gentle rumble of his voice pitched low enough to send molten heat shearing through your core. "This may get...intense."
And with that, the entire world collapsed in on itself until there was nothing but the whisper of energy across your nerve-endings and the solid warmth of Gojo's body wrapped around you as the in-between rushed past in a blur.
You materialized seconds later in your dormitory suite, Gojo already stalking towards the bedroom with you cradled to his chest. He kicked the door shut with a deafening bang before throwing you onto the mattress with enough force to bounce you enticingly.
Chest heaving, you pushed up onto your elbows to drink in the sight of him looming over the foot of the bed - hair tousled into glorious disarray, shirt disheveled and straining against his broad frame, eyes burning with naked sin and untempered hunger. He looked like some kind of depraved avenging angel, utterly devastating in his authority and desire.
"Do you have any idea," he growled, prowling closer like a predator scenting its prey, "what you've put me through tonight with that little act of yours?"
A shocked squeak fled your lips as one large hand fisted in the loose hair of your wig, yanking just harshly enough to expose the vulnerable line of your throat. Gojo took greedy advantage of your arched position, dipping down to lave hot, filthy kisses along the thundering pulse point as you writhed beneath him.
"All evening, I've been surrounded by the scent of you in my clothes," he rasped against your slick skin, free hand already dragging the shirt up to divest you of the flimsy material. You arched eagerly into his frantic touches, nails scoring paths down the quivering muscles of his back as his lips continued branding every inch of bare flesh.
"That sweet, pretty little body of yours wrapped up to look just like me. All decked out in black and white and silver...fuck, you're lucky I didn't bend you over in front of everyone at the party and take what's mine!"
A desperate keen reverberated from your very bones at the graphic suggestion, hips straining upwards instinctively to grind against the rigid cock already pressing into your soaked pussy. Gojo rewarded the involuntary motion with a punishingly deep grind of his own, dragging the luxurious slide of cotton over your swollen clit and leaving you boneless and gasping.
"Is that what you wanted, baby?" he rumbled darkly, nipping your ear with blunt teeth. "To make me lose control and defile you in front of all those poor, unsuspecting fools?"
You could only whine in response, beyond coherent speech at this point. Rough hands shoved the hem of his shirt up to bare your chest, bunching the fabric over your ribcage as Gojo settled onto his knees between your splayed thighs. Cool air ghosted over your feverish skin for only a moment before his mouth enveloped one taut nipple in an all-encompassing scald.
It was like the last floodgate had opened, finally allowing the pent-up tension thrumming between you to surge free in an unstoppable flood. You dissolved into a litany of shameless sounds - moans and whimpers and breathy curses that only seemed to goad Gojo on further. Soon the bedroom filled with the filthy sounds of devoured kisses, skin slapping on skin, and flesh stretching to desperate accommodation around the punishing thrusts into your convulsing body.
Over and over again, he hilted himself inside your drenched cunt with enough force to slide your sweat-slicked bodies up the rumpled sheets. Wave after wave of blinding, throbbing pleasure eroded the last remnants of sense until your entire universe narrowed to the mouthwatering play of chiseled muscle and tendon as he hovered over you. You couldn't get enough of his harsh grunts, the deeper-than-sin rasp of his voice crooning debauched praises and sinful promises against your fevered skin.
"That's it, just like that, baby girl," he ground out as your nails scored down his back hard enough to sting. "Open up nice and pretty for your sensei. Going to absolutely fucking ruin you for anyone else after I'm done."
The very thought sent electric sparks arcing straight to your clenching pussy, throat already rubbed raw from howling your rapture into the quiet night. There was nothing recognizable left in your voice as you chanted his name like a benediction, uncaring of how the whole dormitory might hear your shameless cries while Gojo robbed you of any last shred of composure.
His hips snapped in a final few deep, piston-like drags before stilling with a full-bodied shudder. The feeling of him painting your fluttering pussy in thick, virile streaks of cum finally triggered your own cresting climax. You shattered around him with a ragged wail, arching wildly as exquisite pulses of lightning ricocheted out in tingling waves to your fingertips and curling toes.
Boneless and limp as a ragdoll, you lay there soaked in the glorious aftermath. Gojo blanketed you with his weight, his breath rasping hotly over your sweat-dampened skin, lips tracing sluggish patterns in their comedown. Neither of you moved for long stretches, simply existing in the tranquil silence of that sacred, sated space.
Finally, Gojo pulled back just enough to free his arms and gather you carefully into his embrace. You hummed out a contented sound, burrowing shamelessly into the solid comfort of his chest while clever fingers worked the constricting knots out of your wig until the heavy silver strands cascaded freely onto the pillows.
"You," he started, pausing to clear his throat and collect his scattered thoughts, "are going to be the absolute death of me one day, pretty girl."
The words were fond instead of chastising as he pressed lingering closed-mouth kisses into your hairline. You smiled against the corded expanse of his throat.
"Promise?" you murmured cheekily, arching up to ghost your lips across the strong column of muscle. A low groan rumbled against your mouth at the blatant provocation.
"Mark my words," Gojo growled, rolling you both until he loomed over your pliant, wrecked body once more. This time though, his touch was barely-there, gentle, almost worshipful as he traced the scattered constellation of marks blooming across your damp skin. "By the time I'm through with you, you won't be able to so much as look at another set of clothes without thinking of me, of how thoroughly I'm going to take you apart and put you back together again."
The heated storm in your blood kick-started anew at his dangerous tone, goosebumps prickling in the wake of his maddening caress. There was no doubt in your racing heart that this deliciously sinful man would make good on every last lurid implication behind those words. And you couldn't wait.
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leqonsluv3r · 15 hours
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insatiable
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— leon and you begin a relationship and find yourselves infatuated with each other, a blurb
contains nsfw content, 18+, MDNI
masterlist taglist
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ever since you and leon admitted your feelings for each other, things had been different for you.
certain things had changed.
you found yourself more insatiable then normal, so did he. it definitely wasn’t just you, you both found yourselves barely leaving the bedroom in the honeymoon stage of your relationship.
it was like you both were hungry for each other, hungry for each others bodies like oxygen. it wasn’t normal but the affect you had on each other, it wasn’t just normal either.
like now, in the dregs of post-sex bliss, you both were laying in his bed in his apartment. your t-shirt was his and found a home on your body, laying with him in his rumpled blue sheets of his king sized bed.
limbs entangled and smalls snores leaving you both. you knew that in the waking of the night, you’d both find each other again. with your hands, your mouths and your bodies.
neither of you could help it, you were both addicted to each other now like junkies needing a fix. you wanted to blame him but you couldn’t, he was handsome. you were only human after all.
so when you both wake up in the morning, act like a normal couple for a bit, then it’s back to him ravaging you in bed. you didn’t even care either how he degraded you in the midst of all of it. you knew his respect for you ran deep, that much was aware.
but in these moments, like now, when your sat on his cock and he’s fucking into you…all of the respect is gone and only love and lust remain.
“pretty little pussy is squeezing me baby, christ.” he groans out, his hands are on your hips and he’s fucking himself up into you while you just sit on his lap and take it. “uhh…” is all you can respond, your fucked out this point and he’s practically splitting you in two.
your thoughts are only of him and his cock pounding up into you as your thighs hug his lap. you bury your head into his shoulder and whine. “poor little baby, can’t handle all this cock.” he manages to get out in between groans.
the only sounds in the room are your conjoined heavy breathing and his thighs slapping up against your ass, his hands burning brands into your hips to keep you in place while he uses you like a cock sleeve.
you moan in response and flutter around his dick on instinct, squeezing him a little. “oh? you like that, you like taking my big cock, baby?” he teases in your ear, one of his large hands coming down to squeeze your ass. his hips buck a little faster into you and start hitting that spot over and over.
“yes, like…your cock…” your words make no sense as you practically drool on his shoulder, holding onto him for dear life as he keeps fucking up into you. “i know you do, your a little slut for my cock…” he groans as he fists one hand on your ass and the other on your hip.
you whine loudly and your pussy flutters around him again at the degradation, letting it go straight to your core. he knows that your falling apart because of him, he knows he’s the only one that’s ever made you feel this hungry.
he’s trying to not let it go to his head, or his cock.
but he can’t help it, he’s bouncing you like your a fuck toy on his lap and your eating every bit of it up. “oh shit, fuck…baby…” he’s groaning and he smacks your ass cheek, squeezing the reddened flesh beneath his hands.
you squeeze around him again, your eyes practically pooling with tears as he abuses your sore pussy with his cock. you don’t even care anymore, too high on bliss and the feeling of euphoria that only him pleasuring you can do.
“made to take cock, made to be a good little cock slut.” he mumbles into your neck with another smack to your ass as he keeps thrusting his hips up into you over and over. you just whine and nod against his shoulder in response, your pussy tightening around him again.
he slips his hand around to the tight little ring of muscle, causing you to whine as he circles your asshole with his thumb. “maybe i’ll plug both your holes, keep you full and needy for me.” he hums through a groan. your body practically vibrating at the insinuation.
“please…” you whimper into his shoulder pathetically, his hand on your ass lightly smacking it again and his thrusts going deep and slower now. edging and teasing you in the way that makes your skin feel like it’s on fire.
“oh? really? you’d like that?” you can practically hear the smirk through his strained words in your ear, his deep and rough timbre vibrating through you like your nearing orgasm.
you moan and nod into his shoulder in response. he clicks his tongue, “whatever baby wants, baby gets.” he brings his thumb up to his mouth, licking on it and sucking it and spitting on it a little before he brings it back down to your asshole.
you almost scream in pleasure when he inserts his thumb into your ass, double penetrating you on his cock and thumb. you feel like you could die happily right there, filled with all of him.
you don’t even care how fucked out you must look, not when it feels so good to have him filling you up in both holes. “such a needy little slut, always needing my cock and fingers.” he mumbles into your ear with a small nip to your earlobe.
the hand on your hip is keeping you steady again as he starts thrusting into you faster, your arousal combined with his is lewd, echoing throughout his bedroom.
“gonna cum…” you manage to moan in between his rapid thrusts up into you, making you whimper and almost scream. you felt drool leak out of your lips and your eyes roll back a little. he thrusts his thumb deeper into your ass at the same time as he thrusts deep inside of you.
he hits that spot that almost makes you see stars, “good girl, such a good little slut…cum for me baby.” he rambles as he feels himself get closer. that band inside the both of you about to snap at each other’s movements.
all it takes is a couple more thrusts of his hips up into you for you to fall apart, clenching on his thumb and his cock as you moan loudly. he groans as he feels you come and he continues fucking you through it, driving your shaking body into overstimulation.
“too much…” you whine as you grip at his shoulders, your eyes squeezing shut. he keeps moving his hips up into you, chasing his own orgasm. “it’s okay, baby, i’m close. you can take it.” he presses a sloppy kiss to your ear.
you tremble and shake as he keeps thrusting up into you, you feel his muscle tense and then warmth floods your lower belly. your head resting on his shoulder and his thumb leaving your ass. he presses kisses on the side of your temple and down to your ear.
“good girl…good girl.” he murmurs into your hair, rubbing a hand along your bare spine in smoothing caresses. his cock still twitching a little inside of you. your body slumping into his on exhaustion from your previous love making.
you sigh in content, nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck while he rubs on your spine. giving you love and aftercare even though you were still full of him, full of his come now.
you felt so full of his love and you hoped the honeymoon phase never ended, not once. you wished, selfishly that you could stay like this forever and be with him like this every moment of every day. even though you both knew better then that.
but the insatiable act of you two being together was one of the many reasons why you loved him so much. it was all of it, him and the way he treated you. he loved you for who you are, and you did him.
so even if you both fucked like rabbits, it was only proof that you two trusted each other enough to go to those places with each other.
because you both were truly insatiable for each other.
and that was enough for the both of you because you would never get enough of each other.
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an: thank you guys for 800 followers, again, holy shit balls. i love you guys so much and i say that every time but i truly mean it. you guys are amazing, so thankful for all of you. i hope you guys liked this, it’s pure filth and the idea has been contaminating my brain since i thought of it. pls reblog, like and interact. love you guys, kisses. xx.
taglist: @elihii @heartsforvin @argreion @sqiim @adollrable @leonkennedygvrl @cherubify (interact with my taglist at the beginning if you wanna be added <33)
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Text
One thing about Orym saying that he can't put down the lens he sees the world with is that he's completely correct, he's always going to be viewing the moon plot and the conflict with the Ruby Vanguard from the perspective of "a guy whose husband and father were murdered by the Vanguard", but the same could be said about the rest of the party. They all have pre-existing experiences and attitudes that have shaped their perspective on things. Orym isn't uniquely biased in this sense.
The most obvious one is of course Imogen, as her long-absent mother is a Vanguard general. She heard Liliana's voice in her Ruidusborn nightmares telling her to run as long as she had those nightmares, and she came to associate that with her mother trying to protect her from whatever the red storm was. It resulted in Imogen giving a lot of grace to Liliana once she found out she was alive and with the Vanguard, a grace that more recent experiences are now making Imogen start to believe was misplaced, but a grace that was born over what she considered her mother's voice to be for years.
Fearne was raised in relative isolation in the Feywild by Nana Morri, and as result her approach to a lot of the events she's now embroiled in has an oddly naive slant to it. The whole would is new to her and she's approaching it like someone who is new to it; there's a lack of understanding of implications that she has that goes beyond her simply being fey. This is best seen in how she's grappling with the reveal that Sorrowlord Zathuda is her biological father. She's aware that Zathuda is terrible and that the circumstances that led up to her birth are dubious but there's also a large part of her that desires a connection with him as her parent and feels like they could have a relationship. She's naive to what exactly she is to him, and also influenced by having grown up longing for the parents that left her with Morri.
Ashton lost their parents and found themself blown halfway across the world after a cult ritual went wrong, and had a spectacularly shitty life that he often found himself begging the gods to fix without answer, and as a result he's very down on the idea of gods and even more down on the idea of letting a cult do whatever they want in order to achieve the perfect world that is just beyond reach by whatever means they must. Especially after the entire shard debacle in which Ashton learned that their parents were definitely wrong to do what they did and there were no good ends for the means that they engaged in he's fallen even harder onto the line of, as he said himself, "I hope her ends are fucking great because these means are just not forgivable."
Laudna's sole experience with anything resembling a higher power for much of her 50-odd-years of life has been Delilah Briarwood, the woman who had her horrifically murdered and is still rather explicitly using her as a means to some unknowable-to-Laudna end. This has both made her one of the members of Bells Hells most open to the idea of there being no gods (no more puppet masters) but also the most broadly sympathetic towards Liliana's view of the Ruidusborn (that they are creations of Predathos with no choice but to be slaves to his whims). Her ardent belief that her lift ended on the Sun Tree thirty years ago also means that she often refuses to advocate for herself or her own needs, resulting in moments where she openly wonders if it's Imogen's destiny to join the Vanguard, despite having herself been at one point brutally murdered by a Vanguard general.
FCG made it his mission in life to help people; that desire drove a lot of what he did up to and including his final act of sacrifice for the Hells. They saw the people struggling against the Vanguard and with the world that the Vanguard created and chose to do what they could to help them. Their desire to help even extended towards the gods, as one of the first things they asked of the Changbringer upon gaining the ability to cast Commune was, "Do you need help?". FCG was also a character driven by a desperate desire to find purpose and to understand the "why" of their own existence, a desire that ultimately drove them towards religion as a means of shaping the meaning of his life, and made him the most openly religious member of the group up to the moment of his death.
Chetney, while the most able to look beyond his own biases by virtue of being the oldest and most emotionally mature member of the party, still carries with him the perspective of having been someone who ultimately made little impact on the world up until, in his twilight years, random chance granted him the power to affect change. He gained lycanthrophy, he met other adventurers in the Hells, and got caught up in an end of the world plot and is finally making a true difference in the world. It's made him, arguably, the most enthusiastic adventurer in the party because he views that adventure itself as a gift, and as a way to create a legacy. The desire of legacy is also the reason he made the bargain that he did with Nana Morri; to secure a legacy as a famous toymaker that would persist after he is gone.
Orym's right that he's biased, but it's fallacious to assume that an unbiased perspective exists, because everyone in the story has their lens through which they view the world that they can't put down, not just Orym.
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starfxkr · 2 days
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just trailer park jj pumping ur pussy full of cum, dirty palm from work clamped over your mouth. he definitely does things to gross you out, but you love it.
𓂃 ࣪࣪ ִִִֶֶֶָ ˙†܀༅˗𓂃 ࣪࣪ ִִִֶֶֶָ ˙†܀༅˗𓂃 ࣪࣪ ִִִֶֶֶָ ˙†܀༅˗𓂃 ࣪࣪ ִִִֶֶֶָ ˙†܀༅˗𓂃 ࣪࣪ ִִִֶֶֶָ ˙†܀༅˗𓂃 ࣪࣪ ִִִֶֶֶָ ˙†܀༅˗𓂃 ࣪࣪ ִִִֶֶֶָ ˙†܀༅˗𓂃 ࣪࣪ ִִִֶֶֶָ ˙
normally jj doesn't mind you being loud, but having you waking the whole complex up at 2 am was a lot even for him. you were laying one your side with one of his hands gripping your thigh to hold you open, the other clamped around you mouth, smearing dirt and grime all over your pretty face as he roughly thrusts himself into your dripping pussy.
"fuck, been lookin forward to this all day sugar, you got the sweetest pussy in the world." he gives you a harsh, sucking kiss on the underside of your jaw, groaning at the way you clench around him at the praise, "you like that don't you? you wanna be the pretty pussy i come home to?"
sometimes he could be so mean, you had only just started spending the night after the unspoken agreement that you were to go home after a tryst, and here he was dangling a relationship over your head. you couldn't help the tears springing up in response, you wanted to be with him so bad but you felt like he was just running from you.
"alright, alright, stop all that now, just keep making your papa feel good," he flips you onto your front, pushing your upper body into the mattress and lifting your ass up to hit the perfect angle. each smack of his hips sends you closer to the edge, the swollen tip of his cock stroking against the sticky spot inside of you. he's so heavy against you, burly arms caging you and he revels in the way he's dirtied your clean skin, "goddamn i needed this, i'ma fill this pretty pussy up, maybe you'll give me a baby huh?"
he covers your body with his again, laughing at the pitiful sound you make muffled into the sheets, he can just make out what you're saying.
please i'll give you a baby, i love you, i love you, i love-
jj brings a hand back to your mouth, "shhh, calm down, just take it." he brings his other hand to your clit, rubbing your swollen bundle of nerves in harsh circles and you let out a shuddering cry as you cum, kicking and thrashing beneath him, the rhythmic pulsing around him sending him over the edge with a loud groan.
you're still crying when he pulls out and rolls off you, "did-did you mean that?"
the sound of a lighter is your only response for a while as he lights a joint, then he finally replies, "mean what?"
"about giving me a baby."
"don't worry bout all that sugar, c'mere." he pulls you close and shotguns the smoke into your mouth, pointedly ignoring the way you push his leaking cum back inside your still sensitive cunt.
he'll worry about that tomorrow.
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gamora-borealis · 6 hours
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here's the thing. to outsiders it may seem like we're excited because "phan is real!!" or whatever. but they don't know... it's not about that. phan has been real this entire time. there's always been evidence that dan and phil were together, more or less (more evidence than I think some people realize). the reason phan™ is such a big deal is because two silly gay boys met online in 2009, but their fame quickly outgrew their comfort zone and they quickly went back in the closet. dan was so traumatized from being bullied in school that he had a public meltdown on tumblr in 2012 insisting he was straight after some very private stuff leaked (that he insisted was a unused prank). after going to therapy and meeting so many queer fans on tour, dan slowly began to hint again that he was queer. but it still took them until 2019 to officially come out! and like. dan essentially confirmed that yes all the public online flirting back in 2009/2010 between him and phil was very real and that they were "more than just romantic" at that point and were currently "real best friends, life companions, and soulmates." but that was it, they weren't going to share any more. which is perfectly fine, but some of that definitely had to do with dan wanting to explore himself outside of the Dan and Phil™ brand (which unfortunately he got fucked over by the pandemic and by YouTube in the process). however they did eventually make a very cute announcement that they had bought and designed a new house together. and bit by bit they started making some more coupley jokes about each other here and there and sharing glimpses of a bedroom with both of their stuff in it, though it was still fairly subdued. but then dan finally got to go do his solo comedy tour and when he came back, shit suddenly CHANGED. 2023 was wild. they brought back their joint gaming channel they hadn't touched in five years since just before they came out. and they basically started the public flirting again??? this time on camera??? maybe not as direct as the 2009 stuff at first but. it's definitely been building up close to it. and then Dan finally releases his comedy special for free on YouTube. Phil writes a gushy tweet about it. and dan just replies with 🧡. ...except for within a larger birthday tweet in 2023, dan had not used a heart emoji for phil since like... 2010??? and then suddenly he screenshots this interaction and POSTS IT ON HIS YOUTUBE COMMUNITY TAB with the caption "gay" and a link to his special. like. this isn't about confirmation... the people who have been saying that they probably aren't together or that you shouldn't think or wonder if they are were like, the twitter morality police, ex-phannies, and generally clueless people. tumblr phannies clearly have known that they've been gay for each other for the past 15 years. but this whole "gay 🧡" incident is the first time Dan Howell has very publicly said something like this about his relationship while being "unapologetically gay" as a very public figure (there's been some magazine interviews that technically have come close but, nothing as direct as this). like that is so fucking huge??? that he and phil are finally comfortable enough online, on YouTube, and in life, to go there!!! as we are now approaching fifteen years of them together too!!! like, it's so nice to get to celebrate such a happy queer relationship and expression of queer joy. and dan has hinted that bigger stuff is coming too... like. yeah phan is real I guess 🙃
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nono-bunny · 2 days
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Losing my mind because it somehow took me literally until right now to realize that a Zuko and Katara encounter is a part of every season finale of ATLA, like, literally, what the fuck? And all of those are strong jumping off points for fics to boot, like???
"You rise with the moon, I rise with the sun" is like. Such a big deal in the fandom, and while it tends to feature in all kinds of fics, it perfectly encapsulates the enemies phase in the enemies (to friends) to lovers of these two. An unreasonably sexually charged line too, wtf were they on about with that scene if not ship bait?
Fics diverging from the crystal catacombs are like. Such an obvious and natural evolution of that scene- it's the "something awful happens there, but what if it didn't?", I think. It was, in fact, the first fic I went out looking for- was rewatching the show and once again felt the accute disappointment of what could've been, and I wanted to read what could happen if it had. Ultimately I think the show made the right choice there, because Zuko getting what he always wanted and realizing it's all wrong is important, but it did rob us of him being a part of the gaang for longer, and that makes me sad.
Then there's the final agni kai.... Literally how can you watch that one without expecting them to kiss after? Genuinely don't get it, impossible. Peak Zutara. Possibly the single best fight of the show, and undoubtedly the best finale scene. A perfect resolution to the bond between those two- that gets completely thrown away to give Aang his woman shaped prize. Of course it's also a popular jumping off point for plot divergent fics!
Genuinely wild that they have THREE romantic coded finals, and yet they don't even end up together. Kataang and Maiko are barely even a factor in the first two season finals, too! Mai literally doesn't exist in the first, and in the second is very obviously representative of Zuko making a mistake. Literally cannot think of a Kataang scene in the first season finale (but I might just be forgetting? I obviously do not care for that one, lmk if there is one and I'll add it, but me being unable to think of one feels a bit telling given how much I hate those scenes), and the big thing for them in the second one is literally recreating a pose evoking a mother and son relationship, which is a big fat F on the shipping factor if I ever saw one.
"Kataang is baked into the show's DNA"- shut the fuck up, Bryke, and maybe have a look at what you ACTUALLY did with it. This isn't the kind of thing that you can just brush off... Especially because those are all scenes people associate with big emotional plot points of your show, and guess who's doing the heavy lifting there? It's definitely not Aang, that's for sure.
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tsukimefuku · 15 hours
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blunt trauma ♰ nanami kento
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summary: your mission is to execute a curse user. the issue? said curse user is nanami kento, your former high school classmate and the man who you still secretly love.
tags and cw: dark content, no use of y/n, sorcerer!f!reader, villain!nanami, +18, explicit smut (mostly rough with tender moments hate/love sex), unprotected sex (wrap it, ppl), masturbation, oral (f receiving), pv, from enemies to enemies who fucked 👍, drama and angst (i’m a latina who grew up watching telenovelas), mentions of death, canon-typical violence, ptsd, cursing, hurt/no comfort, this man is saltier than the sea and turned it into everybody else's problem. 
wc: 7.5k
notes etc.: somehow it became a character study. this is my rendition of what i think gege would make nanami to be like if they followed their original plan and had nanami be a villain. inspo list is so huge i had to make a playlist, i got carried away.
writing/reading soundtrack: playlist link ; main songs → way down we go (kaleo) and daylight (david kushner).
disclaimer: i do not in any way approve of (or encourage) the relationship depicted here. it is toxic and bad for all parties involved. this is fictional and should stay that way.
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oh, father, tell me ♰ do we get what we deserve?
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It felt like the air had been beaten out of your lungs by the very one and only blunt blade you ever knew when you heard the news from Gojo.
Of course the first thing he did when he finished wrapping things up was calling you. If roles were reversed, and this had been Geto, he wouldn't expect any less from you.
During the School's Exchange Event, Jujutsu High was attacked by multiple high grade curses and curse users.
One of them was your former best friend from high school, Nanami Kento. 
"Are you certain it was him?"
"Absolutely," Gojo replied on the other side of the line, "there were traces of cursed energy from his cursed technique. He was also spotted by one of MeiMei's ravens."
"And how many students did he…"
"Two students from Kyoto."
Your head instantly felt dizzy.
"He also killed around a dozen assistants and people securing cursed objects underground."
"Shit… shit," you muttered, forgetting for a few seconds what words were and how to form a coherent sentence. Following suit, your stomach dropped with a sinking ache the moment you made the obvious realization, uttering the most painful thing you had to say in your life — even worse than he's gone, so many years before.
 "This will earn him a death sentence, won't it?"
Gojo was silent for a few moments.
"Hey…"
"Tell me. I can take it."
After a bated breath — from your end, mostly — he confirmed your worst fears.
"Yes. It will."
Ever since Geto's and Nanami's defection, you and Gojo had a special type of shared sorrow over each other's failures to save the people you both loved the most. Call it trauma bonding or codependency, but you developed an unwavering sense of loyalty towards one another.
For that reason, he already knew what you were about to ask him, and you only would because you knew he wouldn't find it in himself to refuse it.
"When it happens, please, have me be appointed as the executioner."
"Of course."
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Sitting with a glass of whiskey while gazing out of the window in an understated house just by the outskirts of Sendai, Nanami couldn't say he was fulfilled, unable to grasp the concept of feeling in any way elated ever since his teenage years. However, he was definitely satisfied that this plan had worked.
He managed to put a dent into Jujutsu Society, aiding Geto — or, at least, someone that looked like him, not that Nanami truly cared about it by this point — in retrieving multiple cursed objects that would be used for their inevitable fallout.
There had been a few casualties, though.
Two students and many personnel died — or rather, met their fateful end by the edge of his blunt blade —, but some deaths should be expected if Jujutsu Society was to be brought to the ground, down to its last brick.
Ever since that fateful day when he was nothing but a tall child sitting beside the cold corpse of his best friend, Yu Haibara, Nanami had simmered what would become a cauldron of absolute venom-dripping rage against Jujutsu Society.
To hell with saving other people — what about them? What about the teenager that would never grow to be a sorcerer, who became an inanimate nothing before ever getting the chance of making something out of himself? 
That face… Nanami could never forget it. It haunted his dreams, even a decade later. Such a stark contrast between the light-spirited smiles and this cold, gray monolith that laid in the morgue.
They had no right to rob their students from their youth, much less from their lives, but that's exactly what Jujutsu High did when they didn't even bother to check the mission appropriately before dispatching Haibara and Nanami to a certain death.
Nanami escaped, but just barely, by the skin of his teeth. Haibara, however, wasn't blessed with the same luck, and drew the short straw when his hitched final breaths met their end against Nanami's shoulder. Nanami, who carried his best friend on his back, desperately tried to win a losing race against death. 
Help was late to arrive.
They were too late for Haibara.
And, in a sense, they were too late for him, too.
The worst part, though, was when they were finally being transported all the way back to Jujutsu High. As he glanced over Haibara’s cadaver, now covered by a body bag, one particularly insensitive assistant very rudely stated, “at least there is a body to be buried.”
At least
There is a body 
To be buried
Those words echoed in his head for what felt like eternity. Was that the best they all had to hope for? To at least have remains left behind for the mourning?
In any case, that was why, even though he had to kill, Nanami never mangled any of his human victims — something not easy to do, given how his technique worked and how easy it was to split someone in half.
You had noticed this perverted benevolence while looking over the necropsy reports, a realization that just added insult to injury.
Let there be something for the funeral, I suppose, was what he told himself.
In his own twisted way, Nanami figured this was a kindness very few sorcerers received at their tragic ends, and decided he'd definitely be more compassionate than what Jujutsu High put their sorcerers through. 
In his eyes, those from Jujutsu High who died under his will were the ones granted a truly merciful death.
His peace was disturbed by the sound of the entrance door being brutally kicked in, flying its way across the living room. He pulled his blunt blade from the side of his armchair with his free hand, but quickly put it down when realizing it was you that had just barged inside.
He knew you very well — well enough to be certain you wouldn't come swinging at him immediately.
"I can see you still have a temper. Destroying the door wasn’t necessary, I would've opened it for you," he stated, sipping on his drink.
"I don't care," you retorted, "I guess you already know why I'm here, in any case."
"I do. You're here to carry out my death sentence," he stated, completely unbothered, as if talking about the weather.
As if he was just mundanely stuck in his ways. 
You huffed, placing your hand over your sword's handle.
"Precisely."
"We haven't spoken in a long time, why don't you take a seat?" Nanami inquired, pointing at the armchair right in front of him. "I want to finish my drink."
You glared at the curse user, as he, unfazed, kept gulping on his whiskey. Nanami was wearing a black buttoned shirt, black pants and black oxford shoes, and you couldn't help but see him as a grim reaper — this was a somber look, fitting for the equally somber man who carried it.
For a second, you took in his features — you hadn’t seen Nanami for a few years after the last time you crossed paths.
His shoulders had slightly broadened, and he still bore the same chiseled face, framed by his sand-blond hair neatly slicked back.
Nanami’s eyes traveled over you quickly, apparently doing the very same thing.
Time had left its marks. It was evident you both had grown up — and apart.
You knew this was a shit idea, but entertained it enough that you actually walked towards the chair and sat down. There were definitely things to be talked about, and you just about had a million questions for him.
Most of them, however, boiled down to what you immediately asked.
"Why did you do it?"
Nanami put his glass on the coffee table right in front of you.
"It was a necessary means to an end."
His words came with frost-bitten coldness, his voice embodying the monotone you once loved, but eventually, grew to hate.
You scoffed, incredulous at his reply, involuntarily clenching your fingers around your katana's handle as it laid on your lap.
"Necessary means to an end? Nanami, you killed teenage sorcerers!"
"As I said, and I don't like repeating myself," he interjected, "it was a necessary sacrifice for a greater cause."
"You're such a hypocritical, self-righteous ass!"
Nanami sighed, clearly displeased.
"We have always been able to keep some semblance of respect for each other, despite our… differences. Do not use that foul language with me."
You laughed bitterly, no amusement or fun in your voice as you did.
"Do you think I can still have an ounce of respect for you after what you did? You murdered my people! They were all sorcerers. You killed students, Nanami! Jujutsu High's students! Just like Haibara once was!"
He shot his eyes at you, and the aura of his cursed energy grew sinister at your words. 
"Don't say his name."
Yu Haibara, arguably the glue that kept the trio together. You were hot headed, Nanami was intransigent, and Yu was the conciliatory ray of sunshine that kept you two — but you, particularly — from constant quarreling as classmates nearly every day.
But back then, you'd argue with Nanami with love.
This wasn't the case now.
Not entirely, at least.
"He was my best friend too, the three of us were! Do you really think this is what he would've wanted?!" you questioned him, equal parts hurt and enraged.
"I'm not one to ponder on could've or would've been's. Haibara is gone."
"I'm not a would've been!"
You could still remember it. The day you realized why dealing with Nanami and hearing his sharp comebacks riled you up so intensely. 
You finally understood you were in love with him.
Ever since the first day you met Nanami, you envied the way he'd be able to keep his feelings in check when you constantly felt like falling apart. You felt jealous at how he was considered a greatly competent individual, regarded by all as the best of your class, while you were basically viewed as a ticking bomb nearing explosion. And finally, it made you livid the way how everyone treated him like the informal leader of the trio when the three of you were out on a mission together.
However, those were the same things that got you to admire your friend and, eventually, fall in love for him.
That day, you asked Nanami to meet you outside after class by himself — much to Haibara's dismay —, because you had something to tell him. It was a Tuesday afternoon, and the unforgiving sun of summer was already setting, casting an orange glow through the leaves of the tree you were both under.
After confessing your feelings for him and bracing yourself for being shot down, because why the hell would Nanami Kento, the brilliant, competent, and mature second-year, have any interest in the chaotic, hot headed mess you were, you realized he actually looked surprised. After taking a few moments to collect himself, Nanami told you how he had thought you actually hated him.
At last, somewhat nervous — but definitely intent on not letting it show —, he confided he had affectionate feelings towards you as well.
Your first kiss was awkward, as it would be expected out of two inexperienced people such as you and Nanami were at that age, but it carried the sweet taste of a blue spring marked by teenage years' innocence.
It felt like a promise.
Unfortunately, such promise was unmercifully cut short the very next day, when Nanami and Haibara were dispatched to their life-changing mission.
What an irony it was that, in the end, you were the one to actually mature over Haibara's death, growing up to be an upstanding sorcerer, loved and admired by peers and students alike, and Nanami was the bomb to blow up in everybody's faces.
What a cruel irony.
"I was there too, and I'm still here, having to pick up the pieces of what you deliberately destroyed!" you rasped, angrily.
"You weren't a 'would've been'? Where were you when we needed you? When I needed you?" his voice didn't conceal the tinge of hurt that those questions carried.
What a fucking low blow.
"Nanami, that's not fair. There wasn't anything I could've done in that situation, and you know that!"
You blamed yourself for a while for not going on that mission with them, until you realized that you too would probably have died if you were there. From the three, Nanami was the only one strong and fast enough to pull off an escape like he did.
He diverted his gaze back to the window.
"You were the one to bring up hypothetical scenarios. Let's indulge in them for a minute, shall we?" 
Nanami glanced back at you, and his next words brimmed with bitter resentment, even if his voice sounded more calm and collected than ever.
"You see someone you supposedly love slowly sinking into darkness. What do you do?"
"Don't you dare, you condescending prick! I asked you so many fucking times what was going on. You were the one who shut me out!"
Your voice carried a decade-old pain that resonated from the depths of your soul.
It came from all the times you entered his dorm room with his favorite sandwich after he had cooped up in there for days on end, and he didn't even bother to eat it. Every time you asked him to talk to you, said you were there for him, and was met by a vacant stare.
And, at last, the time when he cruelly blamed you for not being there when Haibara died.
The way he coldly told you about Haibara's last words.
According to Nanami, Haibara said he wanted to speak to you one last time, at least to bid you farewell.
And you weren't there.
Oh, the viciousness with which he blamed you, and decided you owed him something for this perceived failure. 
The next time Nanami talked to you, he asked you to leave Jujutsu High with him, just like Geto did, and swore to destroy them. You tried, pleaded, implored for him to reconsider and stay, but the very following day, you were met by an empty room where the person you once loved used to be. 
That emptiness had, paradoxically, filled you wholly with grief.
Gojo once told you that nobody could save someone who didn't want to be saved.
You still thought you should've tried harder, in a childish attempt at giving yourself an illusory semblance of control over that clusterfuck of a situation.
This is the gap inside our psyche that feeling guilty tries to fill, isn't it?
We can only feel guilty about the things we could've changed, right?
Your voice sounded decades older than yourself, burdening the weight of multiple lifetimes of hurt and grief. Your soul was too old for your own good.
"How can you find it in yourself to blame me for this?! No… This is a prison of your own making. You built the house of cards that is tumbling down on your head as we speak entirely by yourself."
He huffed intensely through his nostrils — Nanami’s version of a snort —, looking the other way before proceeding, each syllable hitting you with the deadly precision of his cursed technique.
"You abandoned us, leaving me and Haibara to fend for ourselves, just like Jujutsu Society did."
By that point, you began yelling, and your voice reverberated all across the room.
"The hell I did!"
You had to take a deep breath before proceeding.
"I just couldn't get behind this dumb idea that we should become curse users and bring down Jujutsu Society."
"Why didn't you come with me?" he finally asked, in an amalgam of pain, sadness, longing, anger, and stinging resentment. "I would have followed you to the deepest recesses of hell if you asked me to."
You huffed, laughing angrily in between your teeth, before thrusting your words like thorns against him.
"Funny you should say that. You'd go anywhere for me? How about staying? Why couldn't you have stayed for me, then?!" 
Perhaps that request was egotistical, but you didn't care. If only for a moment, you wanted to give yourself this small privilege — to want in a world of duty.
"I was the one actually left to fend for myself, right inside the belly of the beast, and you couldn't have cared less."
He stared at you, nothing in his eyes other than the void left behind after his spirit got killed with his best friend so many years ago.
"I didn't stay because… Because," Nanami stated, with a grave finality, "and you're the one who chose to stay. You're still actively choosing to, just like you did back then."
"That's not a good enough answer," you replied with a bad taste in your mouth.
"It's what you've earned," he coldly replied, "but in case you change your mind-"
"Enough," you interrupted him, incredulous that even after everything, this man had the nerve of suggesting you'd ever be interested in running away with him. "It appalls me you would even consider I could… After what you've done? No, never."
Nanami sighed, and for a brief moment, seemed to be actually disappointed under his resigned, polished visage.
"Well, then. Let's get this over with, at once."
In a split second, you pushed your chair on the ground, falling on your shoulders and rolling on your back, dodging his lightning-fast attack. It left a crater behind, right where you were seconds before. Nanami jumped over the fallen armchair, and you dodged him once again, spinning on your heels, unsheathing your sword as you did so, to deal a beheading blow on the back of his neck.
However, right before impact, you faltered, slowing down your movement.
Your own body held you back from taking his life.
He didn't seem to notice.
Nanami bent down just in time to avoid the blow, and swung his blunt blade towards your kneecap. You were quick on your feet, and jumped back, putting a good distance between the both of you.
"I can see you're actually fighting to kill," he noted, getting up on his feet.
"Of course. That's what I came here to do," you spat in his direction.
"You were never the practical one."
You scoffed.
"Guess I learned something from you."
He smiled at the irony of that, but his eyes didn't follow his expression. 
Nanami lunged at you, but while you thought he'd deal his next blow in your direction, he hit your footing, having you fall on the ground. Abruptly, his blunt blade descended in your direction, but you were able to catch it and have it slip to your side using your katana supported by your hand behind it, sending a sharp, loud sound around the vicinity, trembling against the bones and flesh of the house.
You rolled on your side when he struck a new hit in your direction, leaving another gaping hole on the floor, and you jumped yourself up. 
Before you could attack him, however, he took you by surprise, and you lifted your sword to defend yourself. Nanami hit your katana with his blunt blade, breaking it near where the handle and the steel met, launching your body back on the wall.
The impact knocked the air out of your lungs, and you fell to your knees, unable to recover yourself as you got up. Instantly, you heard his quick, steady steps sprinting their way in your direction.
You were cornered.
This is it.
You braced yourself for the impact, closing your eyes. You remembered his technique perfectly.
Precise, just as he was.
Deadly, just as he was, too.
You were to die at the hands of the man you loved, who had become a murderer and only a distorted, broken version of whom you used to truly love.
This seemed like an oddly cruel way to go.
However, the impact never came.
His blunt blade stopped as it was about to hit your stomach, and you opened your eyes, just to see his face mere inches apart from yours. His mountainous form blocked your view from anything else behind him, and Nanami, at that moment, actually looked like the menace he truly was. 
“Why were you appointed as my executioner?” Nanami asked, much to your surprise.
“I asked to be,” you answered, holding his gaze as something went through his eyes. A hint of anger, most likely, and some sense of betrayal, certainly. 
“So, you want to kill someone you once loved? You were always prone to self-penitence, so it stands to reason you’d do something idiotic like that.”
You scoffed, grimacing at him, feeling your entire body incandescent with rage.
“I fucking hate you, Nanami.” 
He inched his face even closer, brushing your noses against one another, eyes stone-cold and hauntingly vacant.
“I hate you as well.”
For a moment, you wondered if he had really stopped his blade before impact. You didn't expect it, but hearing those words felt like you just had been hit, victim of a blunt trauma, at how much they tore you apart. 
The same blunt trauma that severed the Nanami you once knew — the teenager with bangs, who'd always be carrying around a few spare changes to get soda cans from the vending machine for you and Haibara, in his own understated kindness — and this empty monster looking back at you.
"Good. Finish me off, then, and get your revenge for a crime I never committed. Being unfair and an all-around self-centered asshole certainly suits you, fucker."
His hand made its way up your neck, and you were pressed against the wall. The grip was firm, but not enough to choke you — it came more as a warning than anything else.
"I already told you to stop using that foul language with me," he ordered, low voice simmering with genuine irritation.
"Then make me," you challenged him, hoping for this torture to be over as fast as possible.
Just fucking kill me already.
His blunt blade fell with a thud on the floor, and you were confused for a moment, wondering if he really wouldn't give you the kindness of a quick demise. Did he plan on choking you to death?
Did he hate you that much?
His other hand came up, but before you could do anything to try to resist — which would be nothing but a futile attempt at survival, given that Nanami was physically much stronger than you —, his fingers snaked their way through the back of your hair, tugging it at the roots. 
His mouth clashed against yours, all teeth, tongue, anger, and hunger, and instantly every nerve in your body flared up with a raging fiery ember you hadn't felt in years. All the pent-up resentment, hurt, and desire you had for Nanami swirled together in your gut, guiding your hands up his hair, as you also pulled on it intently, robbing him of a gasp.
You intertwined your tongue against his, and he unceremoniously bullied his own inside your mouth, leaving no crevice unexplored, as his hand on your neck descended towards your waist, where he clenched his fingers with a vicious grip. You whimpered against his lips, and he grunted in return, pushing his body on yours. His throbbing growing cock could be felt, even through both of your clothes, as he pressed it right against the edge of your pants.
When you finally parted after what seemed like a not-long-enough eternity, you huffed and panted, and albeit less than you, he was panting too.
"I fucking… hate you…" you gnarled, glaring into his eyes. The hazel-brown gaze you once adored was now clouded and dark, like the muddy waters of a deep lake.
"Shut the fuck up," Nanami groaned back, strongly cupping your cunt with his large hand. You whimpered in surprise, and he pulled you in harshly for another kiss, letting go of your hair and sex to sink his fingers on the backside of your thighs, pulling them. You immediately jumped up and threw your arms around his shoulders, as he manhandled your legs to have them hooked around him.
He quickly took you both inside the room, and tossed you on the bed, having you gasping in surprise. Before you could catch your breath, he climbed his way on top of you, pressing your body down, and clashed his mouth against yours again, making you actually lightheaded from a lack of air.
You pushed against his chest, grunting uneasy, and surprisingly, he parted his lips from yours.
"What?"
You panted heavily, nearly hyperventilating, and mindlessly rested your hand on his cheek.
"C-can't breathe…" was all you mustered up to say, trying to replenish oxygen back into your system.
His eyes softened so discreetly you nearly missed it, and his cold-ivory enclosure slightly cracked under the affectionate touch he didn't expect.
Nanami had no idea how much he had craved it ever since you parted ways, and hated himself, just a little, for how much such an innocuous gesture stirred his old feelings up, throwing his heart against his chest in a fluttering rush.
I should be over her by now, dammit.
Nanami also brought his hand up your face, and ghosted over your cheek for a second before sliding his fingers delicately down over it.
You also weren't prepared for that, and your chest tightened all over your heavy heart as you remembered your first kiss.
The way he'd cup your face in his hands.
 So delicate, so lovely.
This touch, at this very moment, felt like a painful reminder of everything you had lost.
"Kento…" you cooed, voice strained in your throat, with all the things you were sure you'd never say.
He hummed your name in return, and kissed you while sinking your body against the mattress. This kiss was different, as his lips brushed gently over yours, and his tongue tenderly teased over the seam of your mouth. You welcomed him in, and you both explored these deep waters tentatively, as he upped the intensity after each stroke of your tongues against each other.
He tasted like whiskey, and bread, and the tainted love left behind as nothing but a reminiscence of less grueling days. You couldn't help but feel robbed by him.
You both had been missing out on this for all these fucking years.
"Why did you have to go?" you asked, pulling back from him, a tinge of anger to your cadence, and another of pain in your face.
"Why did you have to stay?" he spat back at you, equal parts saddened and resentful.
His mouth made its way to your neck, and you gasped with the sensation of his warm breath mingled with saliva against your skin, as he licked and bit his way around.
You couldn’t find it in yourself to push him away, and your eyes burned with the prickling sensation of tears that wouldn’t come. You were starved for his touch, his smell, his body, even if this was the murderer of your students, of your friends.
In your head, you felt like digging a hole and throwing yourself in it, to wallow in the misery of realizing that you were about to fuck the murderer of people you loved, and that it felt good.
A pool of heat and fire shot down your insides as your heartbeats throbbed in between your legs.
You hated yourself, and on top of it all, hated Nanami. 
Hated that you couldn't help but still love him, even after all he had done.
This was the setting tension in between the both of you, the two extremes of hate and love pulling against each other, all while the tug of war rope refused to snap to either side.
He pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it aside, and you undid his shirt, unzipping his pants. He unzipped you too, and quickly enough, took off your pants along with your panties with a single sharp tug.
Back to rough, but not entirely, it seemed.
His hand glided against your thigh and his fingertips slipped over your entrance, getting completely glazed by your already dripping arousal. He grunted, a guttural and intense sound deep in his chest, giving you another bite on the soft skin of your neck.
"Hate me?" Nanami asked, teasing his digits over your cunt, "doesn't seem like it."
You managed to scoff at him, which would prove to be a mistake.
"Go fuck yours-"
Before you could finish your sentence, he dove two of his fingers inside knuckle-deep, without any hint of a warning, forcefully stretching your walls around them. You immediately let out a whimper so pitiful you wondered if that was really your voice.
He seemed satisfied at that. Perhaps, even elated.
"Good girl," Nanami whispered right beside your ear, nibbling against your earlobe with his teeth, sending shivers down your spine. He began sliding his fingers in and out, and you bucked down against his hand while moaning and mewling, walls sheathing his digits as he finger-fucked your cunt, neglecting your clit as punishment for calling him a condescending prick earlier.
His palm rucked against your dripping folds, echoing wet slaps all throughout the room, as your arousal kept pooling on his palm.
He mumbled softly against your skin, bringing his mouth up to brush against yours, "hate… you still love me."
You instantly drew one of your hands to slap him in the face for this hurtful teasing, but he had quick reflexes — quicker than yours. He dodged himself back as your hand hit the empty sheets, and edged his fingers to hit against your soft spot, pressing it so violently, you let out a strained cry from the shooting overstimulation pain.
"Ah- Shit!" you shouted, face all scrunched up.
"Can't you behave for once?" he chided, "why is it so hard for you to j-just-“ 
Nanami’s breath hitched in his throat as he grunted, unable to finish his sentence.
You shut him up the only way you could think — grabbing his cock harshly over his boxers. It was extremely effective, and he immediately humped his length against your hand, while lowly groaning.
With trembling hands and a violent snap, you haphazardly pulled his boxers down to his mid-thighs, as his fingers kept mercilessly bullying their way inside you, sending vibrating waves all throughout your body with every thrust.
“Stop… telling me… ah-aaah-“ you rolled your eyes back with a loud moan, struggling to keep a train of coherent thought, gnarling your next words,  “what to… ah- do!”
His cock sprang out, slapping against his belly. The tip was already flustered red, leaking with pre-cum, and had a long, prominent vein on the underside.
To punish him back for the roughness, you grabbed his length with one hand, and with the other, pressed the middle of your palm against his flushed tip, glistening his arousal around it with enough force to jump across the divide between intense pleasure and painful overstimulation.
Nanami cursed with a feral voice through his teeth, immediately biting the side muscles of your neck with no semblance of restraint, making sure to leave a purple remnant of pain etched on your skin.
“Ah- ouch! Fuck!” you spat out, tightening your grip around his cock, but weakened enough to release the tight pressure against his tip, letting him fuck into your hand. His hips bucked erratically, and his lips pressed a quick kiss right where he had previously bitten.
He couldn't help it.
Suddenly, Nanami stopped his rutting fingers to press his thumb against your already throbbing clit. That instantly had you seeing stars as you cursed loudly in between moans and grunts, drawing your free hand to his head, ferociously tugging at his hair, as heat pooled in your lower abdomen like fiery embers of coal.
He grabbed your arm, pulling it away from his shaft, and removed his fingers from your walls, having them clenching around nothing at such a sudden emptiness. You began complaining, only to have your voice cut short by his tongue slipping its way inside your mouth, in a sloppy, wet kiss. 
Parting from you, Nanami’s eyes were glassy, and you were absolutely sure your gaze must’ve looked just as hazy as his.
In a brief moment, before you realized it, he slid himself down, and unceremoniously lapped at your already sensitive clit with his warm tongue, hot breath tickling against your sensitive skin.
Both of your hands descended towards his hair, brushing over his golden and now messy locks more tenderly than you expected. Nanami suddenly shivered and moaned into your cunt, edging his tongue down your folds and back, eyes fluttering shut the moment he tasted you entirely.
He felt a tinge of pain clench at his chest, realizing this was the taste he had missed out on for all that time — your taste, which would surely ruin him forever.
Nanami’s pain, however, was quick to turn into outrage, as he began sucking on your clit relentlessly, eliciting the most animalistic sounds you had ever uttered.
You instinctively tried backing away, and he pulled on your thighs, holding them with such a violent force that his hand was sure to leave an engraving of his digits over your plush skin.
Nanami was intent on dragging this orgasm out of you by any means necessary.
You had never given him anything he wanted from you — be it the company to fight against Jujutsu High or the same unwavering loyalty he had for you. So this was something he’d take.
If you wouldn’t be by his side, then the least you could do was to cum for him so fervently, he’d be sure to ruin you just as much as he felt like you had ruined him. You owed him that, or so Nanami thought.
“Aaah-- Kento! S-slow d-… fuck!”
You came with a thunderous shout, jolting your hip forward as your thighs tightened with inhuman strength to the sides of his head. Nanami made sure to deliciously lick your way down from your high, applying such a precise and perfect pressure on your clit that you could’ve wept from sheer satisfaction.
After your legs went limp, he slowly climbed his way back to you, pressing kisses all over your body, leaving a ghost of heat wherever his mouth traveled. When Nanami finally reached your face, he put his forearms against your sides, hands over your shoulders, caging you in, as he pressed his mouth against yours in a slow kiss.
You were floating in a calm sea, salty waves caressing your body every time they passed through, and it felt cozy. Inviting, even. As he parted his lips from yours, Nanami gazed into your eyes in the way he used to.
For a second, you got catapulted into the past, and the orange sun that warmed your cheeks through the leaves as you kissed for the first time seemed to shine its rays over again.
With his arms around you, the nonsensical feeling of being protected washed over your heart.
“Come with me,” he whispered with a sultry, husky voice. 
“Kento…” you cooed, sighing, wanting nothing more than for this moment to extend for infinity.
But it couldn’t.
You didn’t go with him, so many years ago.
And wouldn’t go now, either.
That wasn’t how it worked for the both of you.
Nanami understood it, and what seemed like another crack against his unwavering walls had formed the moment his brows furrowed above his eyes.
“Fine, then,” he said, with a tinge of genuine hurt to his voice.
You parted your thighs to accommodate his hips, and he obliged, guiding his hand down to align his cock against your entrance. You bent and hooked your legs around him, pulling him in, and as the tip of his length got pressed against your dripping cunt, he gasped slightly over your lips.
Nanami sunk in slowly, going through your already relaxed ring. However, it apparently wasn’t relaxed enough, or perhaps he was just too big, because you could feel every inch of stretching his cock made against your walls as he slowly bottomed out inside your cunt.
His mouth fell open and you exhaled a moan into it, breaths mingling together. You two drank each other in. Nanami pressed his forehead against yours, and you both held each other’s gaze, as he pulled your left wrist above your head, holding it there, pushing you down the mattress by your waist with his other hand.
After a moment for you to take him in, Nanami began rolling his hips into you, while his hand kept bruisingly pressing your wrist against the mattress. You could feel his balancing act of trying to love you and wanting to hurt you at the same time.
You weren’t so different from him in that sense, though. Your nails got dragged down his back with abrasive force, and for a second, you considered drawing blood from him. He grunted, and you saw the spark of cold-hearted anger flash through his now dimmed eyes.
You both wanted to love each other just as much as you wanted to hurt each other.
In a more forgiving universe, perhaps, he’d hold your hand tenderly, intertwining his fingers in yours. Maybe you two would be in the kitchen as he showed you one of his favorite bread recipes, and share quiet moments of understanding companionship when remembering those who had left this world too soon.
But this wasn’t that universe, unfortunately.
He was to die, and you were to carry out his execution. 
Except you couldn’t, because even if you still tried to cling on to any sliver of morals, even if his life was something yours alone to take, the mere thought of a world without Nanami was far worse than the reality of a world in which he was a murderer.
You insisted on fighting a losing game, and much to no one’s surprise, you lost. 
Good riddance to me, I suppose.
His grunts came hitched and stuttered against your mouth as he was now rutting himself into you, biting your lower lip hard enough to almost pierce the skin with his teeth. You moaned loudly, dragged around with pain and pleasure, the combo that seemed to summarize the gist of your relationship.
He let go of your wrist and descended his hand without a warning towards your already overworked clit, glazing his thumb against the ring of arousal you were leaving around him before starting to make circles around your nub. Your moans came out cracked and faltering, as you tried to resist the instinctive urge of fleeing that the overstimulation was eliciting.
“Give me… one more,” Nanami groaned lowly against your cheek, planting multiple kisses down the side of your face and your chin. His hair — which had already fallen from its usual slick arrangement — brushed against your fluttering eyelids, momentarily weaving golden sand colors over your your vision, and you drove both your hands to the back of his head, pulling him in for another kiss. 
You could kiss him like this forever. 
You actually wanted to, at that moment.
To his request, you nodded, and this was probably the first time you acquiesced to any request Nanami had ever made to you. 
Fulfilled, his thrusts and his finger over your clit became increasingly erratic, as he was now moaning your name against your mouth. You pushed your tongue over his, sliding your hands up his head to tug at his roots, and that was all it took to tip him over the edge.
Nanami came with a muffled groan, having your tongue still pushed inside his mouth, and kept pumping himself inside you trying to keep the comedown at bay. His thick, white cum got glazed all over inside you, and the slaps of flesh and skin began sounding ever more wet than they already were.
You weren’t so far off, with your walls fluttering around him, and he noticed it, keeping his now trembling thumb pressed and circling intently over your clit. With one perfectly applied nudge on your sensitive bud, Nanami finally pulled you over the edge along with him.
Some tears began pooling on the edges of your lashes, and all your emotions — anger, sadness, grief, longing, and a particular brand of despair you cultivated during the last decade — came crashing down as he wrenched your second orgasm from you.
Your body convulsed under him, fluttering walls expelling his softening cock out, as you shouted and grunted into his mouth. You didn’t know if you were more furious at yourself for still loving him, at him for loving you, or at Jujutsu Society for jumbling you both like pawns to be tossed around until you two were broken beyond repair.
Angry at them for sending the young out to have their spirits crushed too soon. For all the deaths no one got to mourn because there was too much work, too little time, and the wounded were always left behind to fend for themselves.
Just like you were.
And just like Nanami was.
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You sat at the edge of the bed while putting your shirt back on, and looked back at Nanami, who had his buttoned shirt open over his chest.
“Are you still resolute on your decision of not coming with me?” Nanami asked, with a tinge of eagerness. Or maybe it was just your imagination.
You pondered for a moment, and knew exactly what the answer to that question was.
“Yes. I’m not coming with you.”
For a second, you caught the faintest glimpse of the person he used to be. Something aching to genuine disappointment.
The longing that flashed through him, unfortunately, was quick to go, as he began buttoning his shirt down, averting his gaze elsewhere.
“Why?”
“Because I’d hate myself for the rest of my life if I did,” you stated, sighing before continuing, “and it’s not because I can’t kill you or because I love you that I don’t despise you. You crossed an uncrossable line.”
He pursed his lips, and almost felt regretful for the path he chose.
Almost, since regret now would come ten years too late.
“You can’t go back. They will know you let me go,” Nanami remarked. Be it from him or from looking around this house, Jujutsu High would surely hold you accountable for this — for willingly letting the curse user and murderer, Nanami Kento, escape their wrath.
“I know that,” you replied, a tad bit more defeated than you expected, “that’s why I’m fleeing to Hokkaido.”
He sighed and looked at you. You held his gaze, feeling a little hint of anxiety at what he seemed to be simmering under the surface.
With a warmer expression — or as warm as he could muster it up to be  —, Nanami spoke again. 
“I truly want you to come with me. You’d be safer. We’d… be by each other’s side.”
For a moment, you faltered, open lips with no sound coming out of them. Blinking yourself back to Earth, you asked, “you mean together?”
Nanami kept silent, but nodded, waiting for your response.
He wasn’t just asking for you to come with him, but to be with him.
You wanted to. You did. Something Nanami never knew was just how much you wanted to follow him when he asked you the same thing, so many years ago.
But even though you wholeheartedly loved him with every minute part of your being, your loyalty lied elsewhere.
Not with him, but with the people he had killed.
Well, at least that was the comfortable lie you were capable of living with.
It would destroy you to realize the loyalty you had for the murderer of the people you loved. 
In the end, even if you weren’t a teenager anymore, you were just as much a hostage to your feelings as you had always been.
The ticking took a long time, but the bomb eventually went off.
With a decade’s old delay.
“I… just can’t. I can’t.”
Nanami reclined himself against the wall over which the bed rested, closing his eyes as he supported the back of his head on it. 
He never told you, but this moment broke his heart all over again.
He felt pathetically small.
Guess we get what we deserve, after all.
“You really do have a taste for penitence,” Nanami noted, his voice barely concealing the bitterness that tainted those words.
You scoffed, getting up on your feet, ready to leave as the first rays of sunshine began bleeding through the thick curtains that covered the bedroom’s window.
“Go to hell.”
He chuckled, a sound you hadn’t heard in a very long time. However, it sounded off-key. Wrong.
Sad.
“We’re already here.” 
At the end of it all, he wasn’t wrong.
You were doomed to always keep leaving each other.
If only the world had been a little kinder.
But kindness, it seemed, wasn’t in the cards for you.
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End notes: I’m silently screaming. Oh my, this one took way longer than expected, but I enjoyed the writing process during every step of the way (I mean, if that wasn’t evident already from the fact that I made a playlist for this 😂). I forgot how much I was a sucker for gut wrenching angst. Hope you enjoyed it too! 🦉
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Tag list: @actuallysaiyan @diogodxlot @jadedjane @redlikerozez @voiceless9000
@marvelousfanfictionbitch @kentocalls @ohhheymessa @magical-girl-b @simp-manhwa
@codenamesongbird
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Text
mine to corrupt⋆*·゚misa x reader
misa and you come back on your promise to have some fun at the club where things went haywire last time.
or; a filthy continuation of mine to protect as requested
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❌ 18+ mdni <3 ❌
The corner of the club where you sat was less crowded, except for the friends around you happily chatting amongst one another. You played with the drink in your hands, awfully aware of the hand on your thigh, squeezing now and then as if Misa didn’t even realise how you felt the temperature rise each time she did. You hated how once again, you found yourself not having the night you'd anticipated you'd have. It should be a fun, carefree night, and it was! You’d thankfully long ago been able to push the way the night had ended the last time you’d been here aside. But you just couldn’t let go of the halfhearted and unspoken promise you’d made to your girlfriend that same night. You still remember how you’d worked up the courage to walk up to the bathroom, thinking she was waiting there for you and that you would not return until completely satisfied. The thought had exhilarated you, even if the unknown had made you a little nervous as well. You’d never before felt the needy rush to have sex in a public space during your previous relationships. And while that spark was definitely there with Misa, with both of your football careers busy as ever, the time you had together was spent in one of your apartments.
Until that night, when you thought the opportunity had presented itself to you after Misa had disappeared into the crowd with a teasing grin. The look in her eyes as she'd watched you dance had already worked you up in a way no one had ever been able to. Then her hands had started to graze you in all the right places, for which she’d blamed the music. Because it would have simply been a shame to let you dance alone, especially when you looked so good. And even through the smothering of people, you’d been able to clock her subtle but familiar scent. It had all driven you insane. And then, before you’d been given enough time to react, she’d stepped back, her intoxicating touch disappearing, and had looked at you with that damned mischievous smirk that you could never quite get enough of. Misa had a lot of different smirks, but you knew what this one had meant— she was well aware of what she had done to you. Not only that, but she’d loved it. Still, you’d apparently misread the hint in her eyes, because you had followed after her and had then inevitably run into the end of your night. That was then, because now, you were sure she had no clue what she was doing to you, and you fucking hated her for it.
She should have known she had your attention whenever her touch appeared just above the right place on your thigh. You bit the inside of your cheeks and took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down, but most of all to put a stopper on your dirty thoughts. As if noticing the sudden tension in your body, Misa turned to you, leaned in and asked if you were okay in that goddamn voice of hers. She worried if this had been a step too far after the last time, but you quickly shook your head. You knew that it was only common decency for a partner to act this way, but fuck did it turn you on right now. Her attentiveness had always been something you adored about her, something that was quite hot because of how she went about it. That ever-present lingering hand on your lower back, the way she knew what you needed, how she would get your favourite things when she knew you were coming over, knowing to hand you your favourite drink from the fridge before you could even get up to get it. All these little acts were proof that she knew you to your core, that you were hers and she was yours. 
“I’m okay, really,” You kissed her when she smiled and puckered her lips into a pout— an invitation for you to lean in. A quick reassuring gesture, in her eyes, but absolutely the last straw for you, especially after she'd been teasing you with little touches here and there the entire night. Her hand moved from your thigh to snake around your waist and rested on your hip as she pulled you closer, closing the distance you’d purposefully made to cool yourself down. You took a quick sip from your drink and swallowed too quickly, the whole thing hurting your throat and making you wince. You heard the quietest chuckle over the music and matched it to Jenni, who was looking at you with her eyebrows raised. You clenched the glass in your hand when Misa’s fingers softly travelled down your hip, trying to find the hem of your dress by touch, then slipping underneath it as soon as she’d succeeded. Surprised, you sat up straighter, her hand falling to the side, Jenni’s eyes still on you like a hawk. 
Misa quickly looked at you through her peripheral mid-conversation, but her touch didn’t return. Much to your annoyance, she retracted the arm she’d had around you entirely and took a swig of her drink as she leaned into the conversation she’d been having. Confused, you looked at her with furrowed brows and a scowl-turned-pout on your face. You heard another chuckle and looked at Jenni, who then quickly sipped her drink and joined the conversation with Alexia and Mapi, as if she hadn’t just seen you turn into a whiney child at the lack of contact and attention from your girlfriend.
You sighed and turned back to staring at your drink, which had been an experimental choice you’d made to spice up your night for once. It was too sweet, then too sour on the tongue during the aftertaste. The tiny sips you'd taken had just been out of kindness to Alexia, who'd paid for the round.
Your eyes raked over Misa again, wondering if she had read your signs wrong. Perhaps she'd thought you were growing tense from her touch because you weren’t into it. Not here, at least. When really, you’d been thinking of her fingers grazing up your thigh again ever since they’d left. How she’d know at what point to apply the slightest bit of pressure to have you beg for her within minutes from mere grazing touches. She was good at having you grow into a begging mess, something you’d found embarrassing with other partners. Her keen eyes had always been perceptive towards how you reacted to her touches, had taken note of the little gasps or sighs you’d made whenever she touched you somewhere, or how she did it. She’d jotted it all down in her mind. She had even made you discover things you didn’t know you liked before… simply because it had never been Misa doing it to you. 
Misa laughed and reared back slightly, her hair falling off her shoulder. Her tanned arms looked so good in the top she was wearing and the light that shone on her tattoos made her look all the more alluring. You wanted to clutch onto her arm but also didn’t want to look too desperate, didn’t want the entire booth to realise you needed her to fuck you. No one needed to know she got you more intoxicated than the drink in your hand right now. Only Misa needed to know.
So, you softly scooted closer again, your hand pushing the lock of hair behind her shoulder. It looked caring to anyone else, but Misa knew it was a way to get her attention when your hand softly landed on her knee below the table. She gave you a quick adorable grin, as if to thank you for being so considerate, but then turned back to her conversation. You bit the inside of your cheek again, frustrated at her lack of attention and at yourself for making her pull back in the first place. You pulled one of your legs onto the seat, making it clear you wanted her to turn to you in the same way. You needed her eyes on you again, her sole focus on you and only you.
You watched, befuddled, as she stood up and quickly gathered all the empty glasses onto a tray on the table, her muscles flexing as she balanced it flat on her hand and walked away. You looked around the booth to see if anyone else had caught the way she’d quite literally brushed you off. Your friends were still in the midst of their conversations, except for one— Jenni was already smirking over the brim of her glass, failing terribly to hide her amusement as she tried to listen to whatever the others were chatting about.
You sat there, eyes averting to the dancing crowd to try and catch a glimpse of the woman you so loved, but all you could see were people who could never amount to the kind of gorgeous and radiating that Misa was. You didn’t make too much of an effort to jump into any of the conversations to occupy yourself while she was gone. But right now, with your heart stammering and the utter need within you taking over and, with it, removing all sense of social norms, you honestly couldn’t care less. All you wanted was Misa. Her eyes on you, on all the places only she got to see, her skin on yours, her touch on you, reacting to whatever sound left your mouth. You needed her darkened, glazed-over eyes filled with lust on you as you watched what she did and felt it all the same. You wanted to hear her praises just as much as you wanted to hear her own satisfaction. Oh, how you longed to get her to come undone, to be the one to get her to let go and give in, to take care of her and to make her forget even her own name, so long as she still knew yours. Yours... she was yours. And you were hers. 
That much was clear again when a drink got placed in front of you— your favourite. Misa stood beside you with a set of new drinks on the tray in her hands. She smiled at you and you couldn’t help but swoon and smile back, for she’d been able to read you like the back of her hand once more. 
After she had handed out the drinks, she turned to you, “You know, if you wanted to be risky tonight and try something new, there would've been better ways to go about it than wasting a good drink.” She said it so casually but so cockily too, that it didn’t make it hard for you to catch her innuendo. 
You had to stop yourself from looking like an over-enthusiastic child when you watched her arm flying over your head, but your face fell when Misa’s hand rested on the seat instead of around you. The movement sent a new wave of her perfume into your face, and you balled your fists, then squeezed your legs together the second Misa’s eyes met yours. 
That strong, intense look told you all— she’d seen it, she'd had to. She'd seen the way you’d glued your legs shut and then just as quickly crossed them, as if to purposely suffocate the one place you needed her most.
Misa tilted her head but her eyes remained void of any amusement to your aroused state. 
Misa only ever saw you worked up in one of your apartments or when the two of you were alone, when you didn't have to hide how much you wanted her, when you could voice your desires instead of having to bury them five lightyears below the very seat you were currently sitting in.
The way your cheeks had flushed, how your eyes had glazed over and stared at her in determination in a dare not to look away, and how your body went rigid at even the slightest hint of a touch… fuck, Misa loved it a little too much. What she loved more was to wait and see how much worse she could get you. What else she could do to get those pretty doe-eyes turn darker, to have those lips of yours jut out in a silent plea, or to have you simply pull her out of the booth and into the nearest taxi back home? She desperately wanted to find that out. She also knew the longer she let you suffer, the more insufferable you would get. Perhaps it would even frustrate you as much as the time you’d been interrupted thrice and you’d then turned so bossy that it had made Misa cum with barely any effort. Misa decided it was worth the chase. And so, she stayed put. Listened to her friends. Laughed at their jokes. Sipped her drink. But she did not look your way even once. It was hard. So fucking hard. But she knew that if she played her cards right, you would forgive her by the end of the night. Or, preferably, sometime close to dawn.
She licked her lips each time she took a sip to savour the flavour of her drink, she pushed her hair back over her shoulder every time it had fallen to give you a view of her neck and jaw and she absentmindedly played with one of the discarded straws lying around, knowing you were watching her hands. She could practically feel the need within you multiply the longer she kept ignoring you. She knew you were ready, way past that, she knew you would go home right now if she asked you, but why would she do that if getting you worked up like this was half the fun of what was to come? She knew she was planning on taking good care of you later on, so she wasn’t even teasing you just for the sake of seeing you squirming in your seat. Well, that, too, actually. Because it did something to her... the way you still sat clenching your thighs together, how she could tell that you wanted nothing more than to swing your leg over her lap to straddle her. Fuck. She could feel her own resolve disappear by the second. She’d never quite had you like this before, seen you like this, and she was already addicted.
From beside her, she could hear the sharp sound of your now empty glass hitting the table as you huffed. Misa’s stomach fluttered when your form suddenly draped around hers— chin on her shoulder and arms around her as you’d slightly nestled your way behind her. Subconsciously, her hand rested against one of your thighs, squeezing once as she marvelled at the whiney sigh she could hear right below her ear. You shifted your legs when her hand hadn’t quite landed close to where you wanted her, and you bit your lip in victory when the new position had made her hand easily slide toward the inside of your leg. She laughed at something Alexia was saying, but you were far too focused on her hand squeezing your inner thigh to realise her laugh had been misplaced, her focus on you instead of the conversation, as the others now looked at her a little weirdly. Her fingers travelled upward, closer to your core, but Misa stopped as soon as she could feel the heat radiating from where you were already pulsing for her.
Within an instant, she pulled her hand back towards her glass, took a swig and said something to your friends. It was safe to say that you were fucking fuming with every uncontrollable emotion on the planet— frustration, anger, annoyance, and lust.
“Misa, stop fucking playing.” You hissed into her ear, but the intimidation and annoyance you had meant to lace your tone with, had been replaced by unashamed, guttural arousal. It was when she had the audacity to look at you all innocently and worried, a clear spiel for everyone else still in the booth, that you were ready to rip her head off. She was enjoying this, having you melt away in the seat beside her on purpose, for her own entertainment. Fine. Two could play this game.
“Remember what we didn't do here last time?” You leaned in and purred in her ear like a cat in heat, “I think tonight would be a good time." You watched how your words made her freeze up slightly, "If you don’t excuse yourself to go to the bathroom and follow after me within five minutes, I’m going home, alone, and locking the door until I’m completely satisfied.” You hushed out as seductively as you could given the circumstances, then gave her an innocent smile of your own before standing up and scooting over her lap to get out of the booth. You made sure to have your butt brush against her front with just the right amount of pressure, knowing it always drove her insane whenever you sat on her lap.
You left. Didn’t turn around. Didn��t excuse yourself to your friends. With determination in your eyes, you knew you needed to get to that bathroom quicker than she could probably make you cum today. You pushed past people in tunnel vision, your eyes concentrated on the neon bathroom sign flickering high above the crowd, which doomed closer and closer. You opened the door and left the booming of the music behind you. Girls were reapplying their make-up and fixing their hair as a smell mixed with fragrances, soap and booze ensnared your senses. You paid none of them any mind as you quickly rushed into the last toilet in the long row of stalls. It had its door creaked open, inviting you and your filthy plans inside. It was when you locked the door and lowered the lid to sit down that you realised the predicament you, or rather Misa, had put yourself in as you stared at the poster of next week’s DJ taped to the door. You were in the bathroom of a club, filled with need, panties wet and clinging to your hot skin, body tingling and mind only set on one thing— to get so fucked that you would forget the fact you were supposed to feel a little nervous about having sex in a public setting for the first time in your life.
You zipped open your clutch, quickly making use of whatever was inside to freshen yourself up so that you’d at least be a little more presentable. You could hear the songs fade in and out of each other and even here, the women at the sink had to raise their voices to be heard over the music. Each time the door opened and the sounds from the club got louder, you sucked in a breath and readied yourself for the knock that could come. Only it never did. You’d peered out of the door the first four times, but with your current unstilted hunger not being met as quickly as you’d hoped, it had felt like an eternity before you finally heard her voice call out for you.
You tugged her inside before anyone could realise what the two of you would be getting up to and then locked the door, pushing her against it as quick as you could. It sucked the breath out of her with the force and gave her no room for pleasantries.
It had been a gamble to leave you longer than she’d wanted, but it had been a risk Misa had been willing to take. She knew letting you wait just a tad longer and have you sit with your arousal could have your senses and needs heightened even more, and it seemed she had been right, going by the feral look in your eyes. All semblance of coyness was gone.
“Fifteen fucking minutes, are you kidding me?!” You growled, hating how her hands on your hips made you pathetically push further against her. 
She eyed you, curiously, then with pride, “It was a risk, I’ll admit,” Her hands travelled to your lower back before softly cupping your ass while her eyes stayed on you. The look she gave you quickly replaced her cockiness— her eyes darkened even more and glazed over with visible hunger of her own. 
“Don’t lie to me, you’re the most worked up you’ve ever been, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” You sighed out in a high-pitched whine when she squeezed your ass and pushed you against her front, the other hand carefully placing a strand of hair behind your ear. 
“You know how hard it was to ignore you?” She placed a soft kiss below your ear as her hand cupped your jaw before she deliberately let her lips graze down your neck, “How difficult it was to see you squirm and not do anything about it?” She nibbled at your collarbone, the prickly sensation sending goosebumps across your body. It reminded you of the time you'd added ice cubes to your night once.
You pulled her face up to yours, eyebrows furrowed and eyes set in pathetic need, “How will you make it up to me?”
Misa started to softly scratch at the nape of your neck, her other hand preventing you from creating any distance between the two of you.
"How do you want me to?"
Fuck, you had been so filled with the simple need of just being fucked by your girlfriend that you hadn’t even given yourself time to fantasise just how you wanted to initiate your first time having sex somewhere other than your apartments. It had you turning shy all of a sudden, as if this was the first time you were having sex, as if those months of dating had been erased from your mind. You knew very well what you liked, hell, you knew what she liked even better, but still. You felt like a pitiful teenager who could only focus on the very present throbbing between her legs and on nothing else except that. But you didn’t want to just let her pull down your panties and have your girlfriend go to work. You wanted to give yourself a little more flair than that. You could hold on a little longer, you had to. Because you hadn't just waited an hour only for it to be over within a couple of seconds.
Misa tilted her head, seemingly aware of the train of thoughts that kept your mind off track. She placed a kiss on the corner of your mouth, then licked her lips before placing another one on your bottom lip, setting her teeth into it slightly to pull your focus back to her. 
“Tell me how you want it,” She mumbled against your lips again, her nose nuzzling yours, “Tell me,” You heard the desperation in her voice then, betraying how worked up you’d made her too, or rather, she’d made herself by denying you for so long. It made the intense warmth in the pit of your stomach grow even more unbearable— she had waited for this as much as you had.
Your fingers dug into her hips as you pulled one of her legs between your own, letting out a soft whimper as her clothed thigh grazed over your panties. The fabric of her jeans was just the right amount of sturdy to stimulate you. Misa lifted her leg up, resting its weight against the door with her foot propped up against it so that you didn’t have to stand on your tippy toes to grind on her leg.
You pulled her close, immediately going in for the kiss you’d been wanting for the past hour. Her tongue slipped between your lips almost immediately, swirling, pushing and dancing with your own in a hot mash of fury and hunger. Meanwhile, her hands on your hips softly coaxed your hips to grind against her leg in a steady rhythm, helping you ride her. Misa groaned at the breathy moans that left your mouth between kisses. Fuck, did she love the way she could turn you to putty with her touch. She trusted you would keep the movement going, so her hands left your hips. She couldn’t help herself and slowly pulled your dress over your butt. Her hands dipped into your underwear, resting against your ass as she squeezed you and pushed you harder onto her leg each time you grind into her again. The extra touch of her guidance made you growl in ferocious need. God, why did she have to be so hot?
"Fuck-" Your head fell back as a pathetic moan cracked your throat. Misa nibbled your neck all over, then her tongue softened the spots before a kiss sealed them off. Your soaked panties had rolled up and moved aside from the grinding, making the fabric of her jeans meet the flesh of your skin directly. Between that and the squeezing, pulling, kissing and sighing of Misa, you knew you were so close going by the fast-paced throbbing you could feel want to take over. But you weren’t satisfied, not completely, because there was still an ache within you whose needs weren’t being met. You wanted her touch there, needed her there, and you didn’t care what she would do to answer that need, so long as you would feel her inside of you within the next thirty seconds.
You stopped your grinding, realised she’d snaked up your dress halfway and decided to pull it over your head entirely. You discarded it behind you, not caring one bit where that thing would end up, not while Misa was kissing your bra-clad nipples, which perked at her touch. You took a step back, both your eyes falling onto the wet patch on Misa’s pants. Oh, the mess you'd made.
Her eyes were more intense than you’d ever seen them and you knew that beneath those jeans, she had made just as big a mess. She blindly grasped for your hands, not breaking eye contact, her thumbs grazing over them as she removed herself from the door. She made you take a step back as she walked you up to the side of the stall, careful to not have you hit your back against the paper dispenser. She slowly pulled your undies down with one finger, helping you step out of them when they reached your ankles. Her hands slid over your legs while doing so, knowing exactly how each extra touch would make you turn even crazier.
“Put your foot on the lid,” She instructed and you knew to listen, gasping as the air immediately became a stark contrast to the warm slickness between your legs. You watched as your girlfriend put her hair in a high ponytail, the scent of her shampoo from the shower earlier that night bringing you some sense of familiarity in this very unfamiliar space.
Misa tutted softly when she kneeled down, her eyes taking in your shameful sight and how you’d dripped through your underwear and down your inner thighs.
You wanted to blame her and guilt her for having made you wait this long. How did she dare to berate you when she’d been the one to blame for this? But you swallowed your witty quip down when her eyes found yours, watching your face change from annoyance to a needy pout that you trapped between your teeth. She kept her eyes on you, wanting to see the way you’d react to her mouth licking away your arousal.
Your hand pulled at her ponytail the second she latched on, flicking it around your fist to keep a tight grip on her and dare her to move away. She knew you were close going by the shallow breaths trapped in your chest and your scent that intoxicated her in the best way possible. She also knew that if she played this well, she’d get you to enjoy yourself a little longer.
You moaned and went pliant in her hands as she flicked your clit with her tongue, feeling two of her fingers slide through your folds at the same time. Your hand flew over your mouth to smother the unholy sounds wanting to come out when you heard the door open again and a new set of people came in.
“No- put that hand away.”
Misa had seen it, with her eyes still carefully noticing all your little, and not so little, reactions to her touch. Her growl had sounded muffled from between your thighs, awakening tingling vibrations against your skin. When you didn’t listen, she softly pried your hand away herself, brought it down to her face and tenderly kissed your palm before placing your hand on her shoulder.
All softness was gone when her tongue flicked against your clit again, this time in a fast-paced rhythm, applying just enough pressure for it to have the best effect and not overwhelm you too quickly. You looked down right into your girlfriend's eyes, your body yelling at you to squeeze your eyes shut in euphoria, to give in, but your mind not wanting to part from the intense eye contact she was directing your way as you watched her head bob between your thighs.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck-” You let out a string of gasps that were followed by what Misa deemed the most gorgeous moaning sobs that had ever left your mouth. And when she softly pushed the tips of her two fingers to your centre, she knew you were already seeing stars after all the stimulation you’d had mere moments before on her thigh. 
You weren’t here with her anymore, that much was clear going by your eyes which you’d squeezed shut as if your life depended on it, your mouth hanging open and your body slumping against her and the stall. Fine, she thought, she’d give in and let you have it. She couldn’t wait any longer to have you cum onto her fingers anyway. It had been too long and as much as she hated both your careers for keeping you apart, she loved the intense sex you'd have each time you saw each other again. Besides, thinking of the past hour, you deserved it after having been such a good and patient girlfriend. 
The second you felt her slender fingers push their way into you, you swore you were done for. You always loved whenever she used her fingers, the feeling of them against your walls each time they’d throb, pulse and clench, was something you would never get enough of. Still, it was as if Misa was set on making you cum as quickly as she could when her pace turned relentless. The sounds her fingers made as they continued to push in and out of your core, together with her tongue flicking against your wet clit would send anyone into a blushing mess, and you were no exception. But it was her groans that had changed your clenching from going as fast as your heartbeat, to prolonged duration while the pit of your stomach grew white-hot. You'd long ago given up the fight to not let go too soon.
You felt every sensation in your body and yet nothing in your mind all at the same time. The way Misa was making you feel was all-consuming and euphoric and left you feeling so so so greedy for your release that all guilt or embarrassment for whoever could hear you was thrown out of the window. All sense of control was gone, including your self-consciousness. Your body took over, your mind having been turned off as you couldn't even decipher one single coherent thought. Something was building you up, kept pulling you higher and higher. Tiny electric tingles were felt all throughout your body, tingling your skin in tiny explosions to prepare you for the most important one. The tension had you hold your breath and freeze your limbs as your back arched. You didn’t feel Misa’s hands on the back of your bare legs, softly guiding you to rest against the wall again to steady you for your orgasm. The lewd sounds that bounced off the walls of the tiny stall turned you into a whimpering mess, which in return made Misa groan against your core as she sucked again, sharply and quickly, before she mirrored the rhythm of her fingers with her tongue. You couldn’t take it anymore, didn’t know how you were still standing with this clenching feeling keeping a suffocating hold over you, practically pushing all the strength out of you to get you to release. 
Misa had kept her eyes on you the entire time, knowing it was only a matter of seconds now. She hated the way she could feel her own undies clinging to her, hating even more how bad she was hurting to be touched by you. It was hard to keep satisfying you when her body begged her to listen to the enjoyable pain between her own legs, but the look on your face fuelled her focus. But fuck, those sounds you were making, the way your walls had clenched around her as she’d added a third finger, almost begging her to keep them there… the taste of your sweetness that was like ambrosia to her... it was all becoming too much.
She quickly stood up, not able to squeeze her legs as much as she wanted from her position between yours to stop herself from cumming first. You didn’t open your eyes, the phantom feeling of her mouth and tongue on your clit still so present that you hadn’t even noticed she’d removed herself. You finally realised she’d done so when two firm lips pressed against your own, your own arousal now coating your lips and tongue as she kissed you deeply. She helped you hook your leg around her waist and lifted you up against her a little, making it easier for her to angle her hand and push inside you ever deeper. Your gasps and whimpers mixed perfectly with those of her own between your messy but firm kisses. Your arms snaked around her neck, but that was all you managed to do before a familiar feeling pulsed through your entire body, from the nape of your neck to your toes. You went with it, letting your body guide you through the sensual feeling of your release. You let it take control, let it push you into a relaxing numbness, not even daring to fight it because the feeling was simply too good. 
“You’re fucking gorgeous.” Misa mumbled into your mouth after some curse words at seeing you come completely undone in her arms. But you hadn’t heard a word of it as her touch, and what her touch had released within you, had lulled you into a state of pure and primal bliss. 
It wasn’t until gentle kisses were pressed against your temple and you felt Misa’s strong arms keeping your shaking body up that you realised you'd been gone momentarily. 
The world softly came back to you. First, you heard the rapid bass of the music again, then, as your eyes slowly fluttered open, you watched as Misa’s eyes were on you, taking you in. You weakly patted her chest to answer the question in her eyes, telling her you were good, but just needed a moment. You watched her take some paper towels, but you didn’t fully register it until you felt her gently clean you up, eyes as soft and caring as if she hadn’t just defiled you better than you could have ever imagined she would in a fucking bathroom stall. 
Misa tapped your ankle gently, helping you back into your undies as you rested your hands atop her shoulders. Then she pulled your dress back over your head with such care, that you swore you could swoon. She didn’t need you to tell her that there would be no round two. Not here, at least, not right after. She’d take you home, make you a warm bath, clean you up properly and help your body relax after the energy it had spent. 
She wanted to sit you down on the lid, to have you take a breather, but Misa furrowed her brows when you softly pushed her against the door, having regained some of your strength, and, going by the look in your eyes, also some of your hunger. Your shaking fingers pulled at the buttons of her jeans before you helped her shimmy out of them. Misa’s breath hitched as she watched you get on your knees in front of her, using her jeans to pad them from the harsh cold tiles. This wasn’t what she deserved after she’d purposefully neglected you for the longest time. This spontaneous adventure had been meant to please you, not herself, even if hearing and seeing you cum because of her had almost sent her over the edge as well. 
You knew this, knew Misa could be a very selfless lover, always putting your needs before her own, which was exactly why you couldn't have that today. Or... could you? In your mind, despite the mindblowing orgasm your girlfriend had just given you, it was still 0-0, for she'd only done what was right after teasing you.
“What are you-”
She gasped as you pulled down her panties to her ankles and lifted one of her legs to rest over your shoulder. Your fast breaths fanned her core in a way that drove her insane already. Your mouth hovered over her for the five longest seconds Misa had ever known as you waited to see what she’d do or say, if you could break her like she'd broken you. She let out a whine, high but short.
Fuck, Misa hadn’t expected this turn of events and had willed her orgasm back into oblivion, but now it came back to her full force as she watched your pretty little face looking up at her, ready to fuck her into that same oblivion. The sight almost made her shy and blush furiously. 
The sound of her desperation ushered you on. The second your warm mouth latched onto her clit, sucking it between your lips, she was a moaning mess above you. Her hands which were usually so in control on a day-to-day basis became a chaotic mess in your now tangled hair as she pulled and tugged to get you closer. Her leg tensed and trapped you flush against her as she slightly slid down the door, unable to keep herself up when all the strength that had previously been in her legs, now went to keeping herself from orgasming right then and there, just so that she could enjoy this feeling a little longer. She revelled in the feeling of your firm grip on the back of her trembling legs and your hand travelling up her trained stomach, where your hand could feel the clench of her muscles. She promised herself to make sure to work the both of you up so many more times after this, if this was a possible result.
Misa could feel herself go, could sense something taking over for her, seeing as she no longer controlled herself, but then you moved away. You immediately heard her catch the breath she’d held for as long as your mouth had been on her clit. You licked a broad stroke down, towards her centre, and felt your tongue slide through her folds so easily it almost made you chuckle at how close she already was. She mewled above you, the sound mixing with the noise of the club and the chatter in the background. She threw her head back, bumping it into the door, then three times more while her hands looked for whatever she could hold onto and keep her upward the moment your tongue slid into her painfully slow.
Oh, how you loved everything about this— her heated arousal on your tongue and dripping down your chin, her leg locking you in, the sounds she was making which you knew could definitely be heard from the other side of the door and the realisation that you wanted her to be even louder. Still, you hated how this cramped space constricted you from angling up towards her the way you wanted, how your tongue could not do what you knew she needed. But… perhaps this was exactly what she deserved? Just a little taste of what she could have had, had she not ignored you and just taken you home to properly fuck you senseless…. use whatever you had at home to make it even better, have the entire apartment at your disposal with so many perfect spots... and not be trapped in this tiny cubicle. 
Misa slid down against the door, positioning her hips in a way that gave you easier excess to get deeper, but right as she anticipated your tongue to dip in further and lick at her walls, you pulled away. 
With wide eyes of confusion and pure disbelief, she watched as you wiped at your chin with a paper towel, then used the back of your thumb to wipe away the last bits on your lip, licking it clean with the dirtiest look directed at her.
Her chest heaved with shallow breaths, and you realised you’d stopped at the most excruciating moment for her. 
“What-” She swallowed hard and watched as you softly placed your fingers beneath her chin to pull her into a sweet kiss. Misa kissed back eagerly, pressing into you, arms hoping to pull you back to her. But then you bent down only to help her back into her clothes as if you hadn’t just been on the brink of ruining her. 
“Will you let me wait again or will you go home with me right now?” You fixed your hair by touch without any mirror in sight, grabbed your clutch and gave her the sweetest grin, knowing you had her in the palm of your hand.
“Y/N-” She breathed out, still alienated by the turn of events. 
“That’s what I expect to hear out of that pretty mouth within… hmmm-” You checked your phone, "Half an hour, or so? Depends on if we can grab a taxi quickly.”
“Fuck-” She gasped out, but let out a breathy, unbelieving chuckle as she pulled a hand through her hair.
With the most innocent look you could muster while feeling anything but, you asked, “I thought you said you wanted to try being edged?”
“Not like this!” She whined and rubbed her temples, pushing herself off the door. She went quiet for a few seconds before she shook her head, the ghost of a smile playing on her face, “I deserved this, didn’t I?”
“Your words.” You said before playfully pinching her cheek and kissing her again, making sure that she got the message that you’d make sure you’d finish what you’d started as soon as your front door would fall shut in its hinges. You stood there a couple of minutes, both having to take a breather before going back out.
You perked your ears to figure out if you had a crowd on the other side of the door.
Misa laughed beside you,
“We're way past worrying about people catching on… and uh," She grinned guiltily, "-you better prepare to go back to the booth. I left my jacket there.”
You looked at her, face frozen to see if she was kidding. She wasn’t. You knew you’d already been gone for fifteen minutes minimum only waiting for Misa, you had no idea how long the two of you had been in here together. But Misa looked absolutely ruined and she hadn’t even truly been at the receiving end. You worried you wouldn't be able to pass as innocent in the eyes of your friends, knowing you probably looked way past salvation. 
“Um, walk of shame, I guess?”
Misa opened the lock and walked out backwards, not giving a damn if people saw the two of you leaving the stall together, looking the way you did.
She grinned like the cheshire cat, “More like a victory lap?”
“You insatiable minx!” You tried to playfully slap her with your clutch, but she’d grabbed your arm and pulled you closer to her instead. 
“Who cares. Let them be jealous of us.” She squeezed your hand, twice, and guided you through the crowd of dancing people and coloured flashing lights. The beat of the music mirrored that of your heart which still hadn’t quite settled down and only picked up again as you approached the booth with your friends, hand-in-hand. Then you realised...
"Misa- your pants!" You quickly stopped, gesturing to her thigh where visible proof of your shenanigans still coated her jeans. She waved it off, laughing awkwardly, "It's too dark here to notice. Someone just spilt a drink on me, if they ask. Which they won't, because that'd be a really awkward question." She pulled you closer, comforting you, and you accepted the invite to cling to her.
“Aaah! Look at this-” Jenni’s voice immediately boomed over the music when she saw you approach, catching everyone’s attention as they followed her line of sight to Misa and you. "-there you are!"
“I thought you two had left!” Mapi rose her eyebrows, before she, along with the group noticed your flushed cheeks from the afterglow and how you were practically glued to each other. There was a tension floating between the two of you, visible and tangible. Even a fool could sense what had gone on.
“I forgot my jacket, but yeah, we’re done for tonight,” Misa spoke shamelessly, grabbed her jacket off the seats and immediately, albeit smoothly, held it in front of her ruined jeans before she joined you in kissing your friends goodbye.
“We’ll see you all tomorrow, yeah? Lunch at one, was it?” You wanted to make sure.
"Sure..." Jenni drew out, not believing you would leave the apartment before the sun would go down again.
You saw the exact thought wander across Misa's face as she guided you outside to the taxi stands. She finally turned to you, "About tomorrow... do we really have to?"
You rolled your eyes and pulled her closer, hooking your arm in hers and nuzzling into her as you walked together, "A promise is a promise."
"Exactly, and, well... you did promise to continue where we left off, so what if that takes up the entire night and I'm simply too tired to make it to lunch in time?"
You looked up at her, a cheeky glint in your eyes, "Then I guess we'll just have to be fashionably late."
⋆*·゚⋆*·゚⋆*·゚⋆*·゚⋆*·゚⋆*·゚
© 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗰𝗼𝗽𝘆, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗶𝘀𝗵, 𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗻𝘀𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲, 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗱𝘂𝗰𝗲 𝗼𝗿 𝘂𝘀𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝗺𝗮𝗴𝗶𝗻𝗲 𝗼𝗻 𝘄𝗮𝘁𝘁𝗽𝗮𝗱 𝗼𝗿 𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺𝘀. 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿’𝘀 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸.
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chaewonshoney · 3 days
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—SWEET (S)TALKER –s.jy
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₊˚⊹ pairing: idol!bf!jake x gn!reader ⭒ warnings: swearing, mentions of stalking, petnames. word count: 604. LIB! 。⋆˚ genre: fluff, drabble, est. relationship. songs to listen while reading: Bam Yang Gang by BIBI ⤷ ˖ ֗𖦹 a/n: none!
After the whole day at college, you are currently walking to your apartment. the streets are quiet and the rain seems to have stopped, as the last drops slowly drip from the trees, the roads are slippery, faded moonlight illuminated the path up ahead. The stars seemed to have been dimmed by the grey clouds ahead and all was silent... save for the sound the grasshoppers chirring and soft footsteps on the wet sidewalks. Your heart was far from caring if someone was  following you from behind. Feeling the melancholy creeping your chest, you took a long breath. Jake a.k.a the love of your life has certainly been very busy with his schedule to see you or spend some time with you. But he didn't forget to send you the good mornings and good night to his prettiest girl so far, yet you were... Well you felt greedy at this point, but you had the right anyway.
Listening to the argument between your two selves, you suddenly felt a vague presence of something, more like someone behind you... Being afraid enough to look behind, you focus on the shadow of that "someone" on the sidewalk, his reflection seemed more like oddly familiar and comforting now. Shutting your eyes close, you take some deep breaths to turn to face the presence...
Shit? Why is this guy running towards you? Without having any time to think properly, you start running towards the front direction too, are you scared? Kind of. But are you having fun? Yes.
After running in the literal street like two cat and mouse, you stop to catch on your breath, the stalker— well, shit, you can't name him anything else right? Your grip tightens on your knees as you exhale some more, and the guy is already close to approaching you—
"JAKE YOU DIRTY MOTHERFUCKER!!!" You yell at the guy, well, your boyfriend who wasn't really supposed to be the stalker, no? "Whoa whoa whoa, princess! Calm down? It's just me? Remember? The pretty boyfriend of yours?" He holds his arms up in surrender as you smack his shoulder softly enough but he was dramatic anyway, "Shut the fuck up, will ya?" You roll your eyes at the sight of him dramatically putting his hand on his chest as if he was hurt, "Shit, Princess! That hurts~ Do you know where that hurts?" Giving you the puppy eyes, he reaches for your tiny hands to his chest, "Literally here. Straight in the heart," But to his misfortune, he only gets the stink eyes back from his way-too-soft girlfriend, "Don't even try that," "try what, love?" You roll your eyes to hide the shy, bright shade of scarlet rising on your cheeks, "Try sweet talking with me, definitely not when you were some sort of stalking me as well. And to let you know, I am thinking of banning the L-word for you," "Oh my, holy shit, Y/N, don't even think of it! I don't want to know how it feels to be a monastic. And I wasn't stalking you, my love, it's not my fault if my gee eff is a half-blind Dora the Explorer, right?" He brings you closer to him while yapping— well, saying all these to you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he talks, "I am NAWT half-blind Dora the Explorer, Sim Jaeyun!!!" "Not the government name, Princess. How "the love of my life" sounds?" "I am not falling for your sweet talking today." He wiggles his eyebrows with the knowing playful expression, "Wanna bet?"
Oh, this wasn't supposed to be it.
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burst-of-iridescent · 4 hours
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No, Shipping Zutara Is Not Supporting Amatonormativity (Please Use Some Fucking Braincells For Once)
- a treatise by a severely pissed off aroace zutara shipper
since words don’t mean anything anymore (if they ever did on the esteemed piss-on-the-poor website), let’s start with a definition.
amatonormativity: the set of social assumptions that everyone prospers with a romantic relationship, thereby positioning marriage as a universal goal of adult life. amatonormativity forms the basis of several institutional structures that are built to cater to romantic bonds over all others, also manifesting in social pressure on individuals to find a romantic partner by pushing the false narrative that those who do not experience romance are automatically lonely, unhappy and unfulfilled. it is usually characterized by the prioritization of romantic love over other forms of love, particularly platonic.
the anti-zutara argument based on this is as follows: wanting zutara to happen is amatonormative because it a) devalues zuko and katara’s platonic bond b) pushes the idea that men and women can’t be friends and c) doesn’t align with the themes of the show, as romantic love was never the point of atla.
i would like to take the time today to tell you that this is some fucking bullshit, for the following reasons:
one, this may come as a shock to some of you, but zutara shippers did not invent the concept of romantic love in avatar: the last airbender. you are more than welcome to criticize the pairings of suki/sokka, katara/aang, mai/zuko, yue/sokka, jin/zuko, jet/katara, and even kanna/pakku for perpetuating amatonormativity through their unnecessary romantic subplots. and if you don’t have anything to say about any of those pairings, then here’s a word for you: hypocrite.
zk shippers are not introducing the taint of romantic love into some kind of wholesome platonic utopia where it never existed. when we say zutara should have been canon, it is a statement that ends with the implicit instead of kat.aang and mai.ko tacked on at the back because if we were going to get a romantic relationship anyway, it might as well have been one that was well-developed, narratively impactful, and thematically relevant.
two, saying zutara is amatonormative is fucking rich when the main “romance” of atla is a three season long struggle to get out of the friendzone. aang’s desire to be in a romantic relationship with katara is one of his primary motivations throughout the show, and not once does either he or the narrative ever entertain the thought that just being katara’s friend might be enough. to the contrary, aang’s crush and the potential of its reciprocation is a fundamental part of how the story gets its audience to invest in both his character and the kat.aang relationship. they want you to want him to get the girl, and that’s the driving force of the ship’s development from start to finish.
you can see the influence of this in the way people defend why kat.aang had to happen: “aang would be crushed!” “it would break aang’s heart!” “aang deserves to be happy!” and that in and of itself is more amatonormative than any version of romantic zutara, as if this idea that aang is somehow doomed to a life of misery and loneliness just because he can’t be with the girl he likes isn’t inherently based on the assumption that platonic love can’t be as meaningful and satisfying as romantic love.
three, let’s be so fucking fr: a show written by cishet men in the early 2000s was not “subverting amatonormativity” by not making zutara happen, especially not when they went for the fucking olympic gold of romantic cliches — the hero gets the girl trope — instead. otherwise, why did the entire show end with an uncomfortably long liplock? if romance would’ve devalued zuko and katara’s platonic bond, then what the everloving fuck happened to their friendship in the comics and the legend of korra?
it is blatantly false to say that zutara shippers are the ones devaluing their platonic bond when the creators did it first. they evidently don’t view zutara’s platonic bond as equal to kat.aang’s romantic one, judging by their treatment of both relationships in the comics and LOK and the fact that they talked about kat.aang “winning” the ship war in the first place. because if the two relationships were of equivalent standing, why would there be a winner and a loser at all?
amatonormativity is baked into the DNA of atla, and while some people choose to reject this framework entirely (zk friendship >>> ka romance anyday), it is also not wrong for zk shippers to be annoyed at the treatment zutara received within the context of said framework. since the creators clearly thought a romantic relationship was better than a platonic one, they could at least have picked the couple that actually made sense instead of adding insult to injury by making that romance kat.aang. it is not amatonormative to acknowledge that zutara was not afforded the distinction it should have been in the eyes of those who wrote it, because it’s obvious that the decision to keep zuko and katara’s relationship platonic wasn’t to respect their friendship, but to position them as inferior to kat.aang.
four, detractors of romantic zutara often argue that their platonic relationship is inherently better & i’ve discussed before why that isn’t the case, but i also hate this argument because it’s perpetuating the very thing that aromantic people are trying to get rid of in the first place: the hierarchization of love. it is not the “gotcha!” you think it is to genuinely state that platonic love is better than romantic love, because it’s still buying into the idea that there’s some kind of order to categorizing human relationships. the solution to amatonormativity isn’t changing what form of love gets to be at the top of the list — it’s doing away with the hierarchy entirely.
i ship zuko and katara because canon already gave me their friendship. i already know what their platonic relationship looks like and that gives me more room for imagination in developing their romantic one because it’s a place canon didn’t go.
at the end of the day, friendship and romance are just different avenues of exploring intimacy. neither is inherently more valuable than the other, and neither is inherently more problematic. and if you truly believe in dismantling amatonormative beliefs, you would recognize that making a distinction between the two is only perpetuating the problem, not challenging it.
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