#because he told me he was into me because i reminded him of his older sister

[yinemw]

𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

context: celebrating bf Toji’s bday and also new years 🎇 (female reader)

warning: swearing, mentioned sex

character: Toji Fushiguro from JJK

m.list

“I wonder, how did your mother feel like when she gave birth to you and heard fireworks outside the hospital” you think out loud as you lick your fork, swallowing the rest of the chocolate cake you had made for Toji. Half of it already eaten by the birthday boy, well, birthday man.

“You’re an odd woman” Toji snickers as he cuts himself another piece of cake. A golden birthday hat sitting on his messy black hair as some confetti was still stuck to his clothes. This year it was just you and Toji celebrating his birthday and New Years. So you had surprised him when he came home from work, opening the confetti right in his face as he stepped into your shared apartment.

Letting out a soft giggle, you wrap your hands around his bicep and lean your head on his shoulder. “Remind me again why we’re not going to Shiu’s New Year’s party? It’s been fun every year”

Toji shrugged, taking another bite from his piece of cake. Humming when the velvety chocolate taste melted on his tongue, he always loved your baking. “I’m getting older, jumping around with a bunch of drunk adults isn’t really how I feel like spending the night. Besides, you’ve been talking about how you wanna go to the roof of the apartment complex and see the view. I bet we’ll see the fireworks even better from up there” he explains, seeming genuine for once.

Nodding along, you place a kiss to his jaw before pulling away. “Whatever my man wants on his birthday, as long as I get to kiss you at the countdown”

“You always do, brat”

A few hours went by, Toji and you enjoying your evening together. He was right, it certainly was cozier and quieter spending new years just the two of you.

A glass of wine rested between your fingers, your third glass that night, Toji’s fourth glass, yet he remained sober. Though his kisses did start to taste like red wine and chocolate.

“Always someone who has to start early” Toji grumbles as you hear fireworks go off outside. “Still 20 minutes till midnight”

“20 minutes goes by fast” you get up from his embrace on the couch, placing the wineglass on the table before hurrying to the kitchen. Hearing Toji groan from the living room as he follows after you. “We’ll need champagne, also I bought sparklers, and we can’t forget to put on jackets and scarf because it’ll be cold—”

“I stayed home so we wouldn’t need to stress, woman” your boyfriend snickers, pulling you by your hips right back into his chest. “Sparklers? Really?”

“Oh come on, if not for new years, at least let’s light them up for your birthday” you look up at him, batting your eyelashes as your hands sneak up his chest and neck.

“Fuck, you’d think it’s your birthday with the way I’m agreeing to your stupid ideas”

The two of you get dressed, Toji reluctantly having to wear a scarf after you wrapped it around him. He said he doesn’t need it, but he knows you won’t leave the apartment without him fully clothed.

“Whoa, how come we’ve never been up here before?” your eyes practically sparkle as you enter the rooftop. It was fairly high up, giving an amazing view of the city and starry sky. “We’re lucky, no one else is here”

“Fucking snow”

Turning around, you see Toji grumble annoyed as he steps through the snow.

“Told you to put on boots, yet you didn’t listen. I on the other hand have dry socks and no snow in my shoes”

“Whatever smart-ass”

Standing close to the railing, you take in a deep breath of the chilly winter air. It truly was a beautiful view from up here, and with Toji standing next to you, holding a bottle of champagne in his gloved hands, you can’t help but agree with him. This would be a much better new years.

“Hey Toji”

“Hm?”

“Happy birthday”

The older man let out a scoff, a slight smile on his lips as he kicks some snow. “Yeah whatever, thanks pretty”

Before you could say anything else, the sky gets lit up by fireworks. Flinching at the first few, you quickly get used to the loud sound as the various colors paint the night sky. “Shit, did we miss the countdown?!”

Toji looks at his phone, the time showing 00:00. “Yup”

“Told you 20 minutes goes by fast!” Wasting no further time, you wrap your arms around Toji’s shoulders and lean up to his face. Kissing his lips quickly, you continue to hear the fireworks around you as Toji pulls you closer. Not shying away from the kiss, Toji made sure that the first kiss of the year would be one you wouldn’t forget until next year.

Pulling away from his lips, and pushing Toji away slightly before he could go in for another smooch, you take the champagne bottle from him. “Quick quick, we’re already behind”

Toji watches you struggle to open it, letting out a chuckle as he admires the way the colors of the fireworks reflect off your face. “Gimme that, chicken arms”

“Chicken arms? Oh I see how it is, grandpa”

“It’s a new year, and the first insult you give me is grandpa—”

Finally, you manage to open the champagne, the cap going flying somewhere off the roof. “Uhm…”

Toji bursts out laughing, actually wholeheartedly laughing. It wasn’t often you saw him like this, but seeing him happy and carefree warmed your heart. Letting out a few giggles too, you pour two glasses of champagne and clink them together.

“Happy new years Toji”

“Happy new years brat”

“Would it kill you to be sweet for a second?!”

After chugging his champagne, Toji took out a lighter and the sparklers you had bought. “There, happy now?”

Smiling, you can’t help but nod your head. Taking out two sparklers and lighting them up. Twirling yours around, seeing the patterns it created. Even Toji seemed to be fascinated, following your lead and twirling it around, the light illuminating his face and making his eyes sparkle.

“What a pretty man I have”

Toji can’t help but smile, turning his head to look at you. Though he teased and made annoying comments, he was happy, more than happy. He felt content and whole.

“Seems like it’s a good thing we didn’t go to Shiu’s party”

“Oh yeah? Why?”

Toji lifts his phone for you to see. Shiu’s panicked messages of how chaotic his party was going and asking for Toji to come over and help.

“Poor Shiu…oh well, anyways, new years sex?”

“You read my mind”

[iinterstellaarr]

more suitor!gojo cuz i said so

the halls echoed with your falling footsteps. the estate was filled with maids and servants, all too eager to serve,

yet you had never felt more alone.

every day bled into the next. hours spent immersed in books, late night cooking when the kitchen staff had retired, and wandering the corridors in search of… something.

anything that might ease the growing emptiness within you.

while gojo was traveling, you would peak into his room. it was a mess, like a highschooler was occupying the room. the curtains were a sheer white that flew in the summer wind, and it eerily reminded you of a ghost.

his bedding was strewn across the room, a pile of decorative pillows sat unkept next to his bed, left in favor of two seemingly older ones.

you sighed and began to pick up the comforter that had been lazily thrown on the floor. you carefully made his bed, fluffing and stacking the pillows with careful precision. you placed your hands on your hip and admired the obviously very expensive bedding.

something about this small task allowed you a sense of comfort.

a sense of home in the labyrinth of halls, and a sense of control that you have so desperately grasped onto since you had first been made aware of the marriage.

“you made my bed?” you flinched at the buttery soft voice that came from behind you. his hair was down and his eyes were wide with shock. you never admired the carefully chosen hakama that adorned his frame loosely until now. he looked different in a way. he wasn’t the powerful ruler of the gojo clan everyone made him out to be. he was just…satoru.

however, lost in the view of your supposed husband, the realization hit you too late. you shouldn’t have been here.

“i- i’m sorry,” you stammered, stepping back in a rush, as if you’d been caught doing something wrong. “i didn’t mean to intrude.”

gojos eyes softened for a moment, but only a moment. “you don’t have to apologize,” his tone was far less playful than usual. “it’s just… i didn’t expect you to be in here.”

his gaze flickered around the room, the mess now slightly more organized thanks to your efforts. “thank you… for cleaning up.”

you stayed eerily silent, leaving satorus heart aching with the want to just reach out and pull you into him. your hair was delicately styled as your maids handiwork never failed. he had always thought you were beautiful, but he’d never truly appreciated it until you were mere feet in front of him.

“why don’t you sleep in here tonight ?” his words held an air of arrogance although he would swear he didn’t mean it like that. you slightly wondered if anyone had ever told him no.

“pardon?” your voice was soft and shy, like if you spoke to loudly you would crumble into dust.

“i mean, we are married, yes? it makes no sense for my lady to sleep in the wing furthest from me.” his voice held a tone of cockiness, as it always did.

you blinked, surprised by the suggestion and his arrogant words. stay here? with him? the thought felt wrong. not because of him specifically but because it felt like a violation. a reminder of how little control you had in this marriage.

“i’m perfectly fine where i am, and as far as im concerned, i am not your ‘lady.’ gojo.” you replied coolly. the words tumbled out before you could stop them, but it’s not like you disagreed with what you said. you did not belong to gojo, and he didn’t belong to you.

gojo blinked, taken aback by the coldness in your tone. he opened his mouth, as if to say something more, but then closed it again. you could see a slight internal struggle playing out in his eyes, but you weren’t about to let him off the hook. not now. not after everything that had happened.

you stepped around him, your movements purposeful, and with one final glance at his confused, almost hurt expression, you spoke again, this time quieter, but still firm.

“this marriage… it doesn’t mean what you think it does. and as long as i’m alive, it never will.”

[scoupsakakitty]

Can you do Hoshi x member of a 4th gen group please, y/n is younger than hoshi like 5 years, born in 2000s thank you!!

Five Years Apart | idol!Hoshi x idol!Reader | fluff

The sound of heels clicking against polished floors echoed down the narrow hallway. Y/N held her breath, clutching the edges of her oversized jacket, as her reflection flickered in the mirrors lining the walls. She had spent the last fifteen minutes pacing outside the rehearsal room, trying to gather enough courage to step inside.

Today wasn’t just any rehearsal. It was the day she’d be meeting Hoshi.

The Hoshi—the man whose performances had made her want to become an idol in the first place.

And now she was about to rehearse a special collaboration stage with him.

Five years. That’s how much older he was. In the industry, five years could feel like a lifetime. He debuted before she even finished middle school, and now here she was barely out of her teens trying not to look like a nervous wreck.

Before she could spiral any further, the door suddenly swung open.

“Ah—sorry!”

Y/N took a quick step back, nearly tripping as she looked up and froze.

Hoshi stood in the doorway, dressed in loose sweatpants and a sleeveless shirt, his hair slightly damp as if he’d just finished practicing. His sharp eyes softened as he took in her startled expression.

“Oh,” he said, his lips curving into a grin. “You must be Y/N.”

She nodded quickly, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. “Y-Yes! I mean… yes, Hoshi-ssi.”

His grin widened. “No need to be so formal. Just call me Hoshi.”

“I—okay, Hoshi-ssi.”

He let out a laugh, the sound light and genuine. “Close enough. Come on, let’s get started.”

Y/N followed him inside, her heart pounding as the door clicked shut behind them.

———————————————————————————-

Rehearsals went smoother than Y/N had expected mostly because Hoshi made it impossible to stay nervous for long.

He cracked jokes whenever she messed up, showing her tips and tricks instead of scolding her. He treated her like an equal, even though he was miles ahead of her in experience.

But there were moments, moments when his hand would linger a second too long on her waist while fixing their formation, or when he’d lean in just a little closer to whisper instructions that sent her pulse racing.

She told herself it was just admiration. She’d grown up watching him perform, after all. Of course she’d be flustered.

But then there was the way he looked at her.

“You’re a quick learner,” he said one evening after practice, handing her a bottle of water.

“Thanks,” she replied, taking a sip to avoid meeting his gaze.

“You remind me of myself, actually,” he continued.

That made her look up. “Really?”

“Yeah.” He leaned back against the mirror, arms crossed as he watched her. “I was like you when I started out young, eager, always pushing myself too hard.”

Her stomach flipped at the word young. There it was again that reminder of their age gap. Five years. It wasn’t huge, but it felt significant when she was barely in her twenties, and he was already an established star.

“I guess I still feel like I have to prove myself,” she admitted.

Hoshi tilted his head. “You don’t.”

“What?”

“You don’t have to prove anything. Not to me, not to anyone. You’re already good enough.”

Her breath caught. She opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, he reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair out of her face.

The gesture was so sudden, so intimate, that it sent a shiver down her spine.

“You’re going to be amazing out there,” he said softly, his voice steady but his eyes unreadable.

And just like that, he stepped back, leaving her heart racing and her thoughts spinning.

———————————————————————————-

It was the night before their performance, and Y/N couldn’t sleep.

She sat on the rooftop of the venue, wrapped in a jacket to block out the cool night air. The city lights stretched out beneath her, but her mind was stuck on rehearsal—on him.

“Couldn’t sleep either?”

She turned at the sound of Hoshi’s voice and saw him stepping onto the rooftop, hands shoved into his pockets.

“I… yeah,” she admitted as he sat down beside her.

For a while, neither of them spoke. They just stared at the skyline, the silence oddly comforting.

Then Hoshi broke it.

“Do you think it’s weird?”

She looked at him. “What?”

“That I feel so…” He hesitated. “Drawn to you.”

Her heart stopped. “W-What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” he said with a small laugh. “Maybe it’s the way you remind me of myself, or how you keep surprising me every time we practice. But I look at you, and it’s like—I don’t know how to explain it.”

Y/N swallowed hard. “Hoshi, you’re—”

“Older?” He finished the sentence for her, his smile fading.

She nodded.

“Yeah, I know. Five years.” He looked down at his hands. “I thought about that too.”

She bit her lip, unsure what to say.

“But the thing is,” he continued, looking up at her, “it doesn’t feel like it matters when I’m with you.”

The air between them felt heavier, charged with something unspoken.

“I know it’s probably crazy,” he added, “but I needed you to know.”

Y/N’s pulse thundered in her ears. “It’s not crazy,” she whispered.

His eyes widened slightly. “No?”

She shook her head. “Not to me.”

For a moment, neither of them moved. Then, slowly, he reached out and took her hand, his thumb brushing gently over her knuckles.

“You make me feel like I’m starting over,” he murmured.

And just like that, the gap between them the years, the experience disappeared.

———————————————————————————-

The performance was over, but Y/N’s heart was still racing as if she were standing under the blinding stage lights. Applause and cheers echoed in her ears, but all she could focus on was him.

Hoshi stood just a few feet away, drenched in sweat but smiling brighter than the spotlights. He caught her gaze, and in that instant, the crowd disappeared.

“You did it,” he mouthed, his lips curling into that familiar grin.

Y/N felt her cheeks flush. She wanted to say something back, but before she could, their manager ushered her away toward her waiting group members.

Even surrounded by people, she felt the absence of his presence beside her.

Later that night, Y/N stood in the dimly lit hallway outside the dressing rooms, nervously twisting the fabric of her jacket. She wanted to see him needed to see him but doubts gnawed at her.

What if she had imagined everything? The looks, the lingering touches, the way his words had made her feel like she was the only person in the room?

Before she could turn and leave, the door opened, and there he was.

“Y/N?”

Her breath caught. “Hoshi.”

He leaned against the doorframe, his expression softening as he took her in. “You’re still here?”

“I… wanted to talk to you.”

“Me too.” He stepped out, letting the door close behind him. “Let’s go somewhere quieter.”

———————————————————————————-

The rooftop was quiet, just like the night before, but this time, the air felt heavier. Charged.

Hoshi leaned against the railing, his hands gripping the cold metal as he looked out over the glittering city.

“I meant what I said earlier,” he began, his voice steady but low. “About how I feel when I’m with you.”

Y/N swallowed, her heart pounding. “And what exactly do you feel?”

He turned to her then, his gaze intense. “Like I can’t stop thinking about you. Like every time I see you smile, it’s the best part of my day.”

Her breath hitched.

“But I keep asking myself if it’s fair. To you.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re so young, Y/N. You’re just starting out, and I don’t want to hold you back.”

She stepped closer, her voice trembling but firm. “You’re not holding me back. If anything, you make me want to be better.”

Hoshi exhaled sharply, as if he’d been holding his breath. “You really mean that?”

She nodded. “I don’t care about the age gap. I don’t care what anyone else thinks. I just…” She paused, searching for the right words. “I just want to be with you.”

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Then, suddenly, he closed the distance between them, his hands cupping her face as he looked down at her.

“Say it again,” he whispered.

“I want to be with you.”

And before she could say anything more, his lips were on hers.

The kiss was soft at first hesitant, as if testing the waters but it quickly deepened, years of tension and unspoken words pouring into that single moment.

When they finally pulled apart, both were breathless, their foreheads resting against each other.

“I guess there’s no turning back now,” Hoshi murmured, his thumb brushing lightly against her cheek.

“Good,” Y/N whispered. “I don’t want to turn back.”

———————————————————————————-

[xechu]

[Devour] Chapter 1: Reunited

Pairing: Ryomen Sukuna x fem!reader

Word count: 4.5K

Warnings: please read my blog's rules before interacting. 18+ mdni, angst, eventual smut, hurt/no comfort, explicit sexual content, undertones of misogyny (because the 'olden days'), mature themes, depiction of gore and violence, mentions of pregnancy and abortion. Please note that these warnings pertain to the entire series as a whole, and not just to this specific chapter.

Tags: mini series, angst, smut, Heian Era, true form Sukuna

Summary: Years have gone by. You find yourself forced into a marriage that you wanted no part of. The people in your village begin to reveal their true colors to you. Backed into a corner, you do something unthinkable.

A/N: Happy New Year, everyone! If you would like to be added to the tag list, please let me know. Chapter 2 is expected to come out next Thursday (Jan 9th at 12:00 PM EST). Thank you so much for reading and stay tuned. x

Masterlist: < Prologue | Chapter 2 (To be continued) >

You vividly remembered that fateful day as if it was just yesterday. After meeting Ryo, you sprinted back to the village, begging your grandmother to teach you all there was to know about plants, flowers, and herbs. Your grandmother laughed heartily, asking what had spurred such an interest in a young girl when she should be enjoying her youth instead. But your gut told you to keep him a secret; it felt as if he didn’t want to be known, so you made up a flimsy excuse to quell her curiosity. In hindsight, now that you were much older, you realized that your grandmother probably knew you were keeping a secret.

You often thought about Ryo, the boy who reminded you of the sun, and you would frequently visit the forest where the two of you had met, hoping to see him once more. But true to his words, you never encountered him again.

Years had passed in the blink of an eye, and you had grown into a bright young woman. However, the days of bliss would soon end when you found yourself caught in a dire conflict with the rest of the village.

It all happened on the day of your grandmother's funeral, she was your only family member since your parents passed away when you were small. The pain of her loss felt insurmountable, and you didn't know how to move on. There was no one you could lean on, and you selfishly wished to yourself: if only Ryo had come back to be your friend all those years ago. You had not been given enough time to fully mourn her loss when a group of elders and villagers approached you, their expressions grave and urgent.

Despite the immense grief you felt, you agreed to their request for a meeting in the main hall. As you entered the hall, the atmosphere shifted; something about their demeanor felt off. It wasn’t long before their true colors became apparent, unveiling a harsh reality that would shatter your understanding of everything around you.

“Y/N, as you are aware, the village has not been doing well,” one of the elders said. You nodded, your stomach twisting as you recalled the recent events that had transpired.

For the past few months, it felt as if the village had been cursed—crops withering, and people dying in horrific ways from an unknown illness. Thankfully, your grandmother passed from old age, and escaped the troubles that plagued the village. There was no discernible reason for this phenomenon, and the atmosphere had become increasingly tense and fearful. Everyone became cold and distant, only fending for themselves.

“There is, however, a silver lining to all this. A hope for our village, but it requires your cooperation,” the elder continued.

“Of course,” you replied, your throat tightening. Something felt horribly wrong. “How can I help?”

“Lord Yamamoto is looking for a wife. If you marry him, you can convince him to invest in our village. We will put in a good word for you.”

Just hearing Lord Yamamoto's name was enough to put you on edge. Lord Yamamoto had a notorious reputation that everyone knew about. Being well into his sixties, he would have been your father’s age had he still been alive. He was known for his short-temper and abusive nature, rumors had it that his last two wives perished under mysterious circumstances. Any parent who had even an ounce of love for their daughters would never marry them off to such a monster. Now, left with no family, it seemed you had become an easy target. Truth be told, you were past the age of marriage, but your grandmother had fiercely protected you from being immediately married off as soon as you came of age. She had always insisted that you live freely and carve out your own path in life.

“Lord Yamamoto is a tyrant,” you replied, trying to mask your unease. “That man should not be marrying anyone. It would only be a death sentence.”

“But you have no choice, Y/N!” another elder exclaimed, unable to hide his desperation. “If not you, then there will be no one else.”

“Don’t be so narrow-sighted. He might be good to you; old age has probably softened him,” another elder chimed in, trying to convince you.

“I…” you shook your head, your voice trembling. For the first time in your life, you felt truly alone and terrified. “I don’t want to marry him. I don’t need to marry anyone.”

“You owe us, Y/N,” one woman spat, the venom in her words slicing through your resolve. “After all, it is your fault that our village is cursed!”

Your eyes widened in disbelief. “How could you—”

“Don’t even try to deny it! My son saw you with that monster all those years ago. You invited him into our village, and now we all suffer because of you!”

“M-monster?” you gasped, appalled by the accusation.

“There is only one. The abomination with four eyes and four arms.”

Ryo? Your heart tightened at their insinuation. They didn’t know him at all.

“And my son has seen you wandering in and out of that forest over the years, meeting the monster in secret!”

“He's no monster!” you shouted back, anger coursing through you.

“Hah! So you admit you've seen him. You ought to be stoned to death. There could only be one reason why the two of you would meet in secret,” a middle-aged villager said, eyeing you up and down.

“Your grandmother was too lenient on you. That’s what happens when you have no parents to guide you. Daughters without parents become ill-mannered and rebellious.”

“Do not speak of my family as if you know them,” you retorted.

“Oh, I know your grandmother; she was a kind and hardworking woman. She worked until her death just to sustain an insolent wench like you.”

“While your poor grandmother worked her bones down to dust, you were spreading your legs for the King of Curses in the forest!” they continued their relentless assault of accusations.

“That’s not true!” you yelled, tears brimming in your eyes, though you stubbornly held them back. “I—”

“Look, there is no need for us to keep stating the facts that Y/N will never admit to,” a calmer voice interjected. The man reminded you of a fox—sly and conniving. “Y/N, your grandmother was a good woman. That is the only reason we wanted to do you this favor. If you don’t marry Lord Yamamoto, your safety will no longer be guaranteed in this village. To be frank, many villagers want you dead.”

The revelation hit you like a ton of bricks, suddenly, the hall felt too small, the imposing elders and villagers too big. You couldn’t breathe. One thing was clear, however: you had lived in ignorant bliss all along, and you realized it too late. No matter how you looked at it, both options seemed to lead to your impending doom.

A heavy silence loomed in the hall.

“I..." you clenched your fists tight enough to almost draw blood, "I will marry Lord Yamamoto,” you said quietly, your head dropping in defeat.

“Excellent. I’m glad we could reach an agreement,” the fox-like man replied, his voice dripping with false satisfaction.

With that, the group of elders and villagers walked away, heads held high as if they had just become the saviors of the village, leaving you feeling more trapped than ever.

---

Your entire village gathered to bid you farewell on your wedding day, but it felt nearly impossible to find joy in the moment. You were being sent off to a tyrant, and just days prior, it had been revealed that everyone had secretly loathed you all along. Despite the heavy weight of this revelation, you did your best to maintain a facade of ignorance, but the experience was jarring to say the least.

Lord Yamamoto had sent four of his men to collect you in a shoulder carriage. The Yamamoto estate was about a day's journey away, which meant you would arrive at your new home by nightfall. The wedding ceremony was scheduled to begin immediately upon your arrival, and then you would be expected to share a bed with your new husband. The thought of bedding a stranger—someone who could practically be your father—made you shudder. Your stomach churned as feelings of disgust and dread surged within you; bile threatened to escape your throat. You weren’t even certain you could persuade Lord Yamamoto to invest in your village, rendering the entire marriage a cruel farce.

As you sat in the uncomfortable carriage, your thoughts spiraled into desperation. Perhaps you could make a run for it, a grand escape. You had a vague idea of the landscape from your childhood adventures, but could you truly outrun four men? The route to the Yamamoto estate would take them through a dense forest by the mountains—this would be your most opportune moment if you decided to flee. Your heart raced as you weighed the risks, contemplating whether such a plan was feasible.

You couldn’t tell how long you had been in the carriage, but the sounds of a rushing river signaled that the group had now entered the forest. Quietly, you peeked through the crack of the small carriage window to confirm your suspicions.

It was now or never, you thought, as adrenaline began coursing through you. Even if you managed to evade the men, would you be able to survive the forest before it claimed you? Then again, you’d rather face the unknown dangers of the wilderness than submit to an abusive husband.

“E-excuse me,” you called out, your voice wavering slightly. The carriage came to a halt.

“Yes, my Lady?” one of the men replied.

“I’m sorry, but I… need to use the bathroom,” you lied, the words tumbling out with an urgency that surprised you.

A brief moment of silence followed as the four men deliberated how to handle the situation.

“Worry not, my Lady; we will find a suitable spot for you immediately,” one of them said.

“Thank you…” you murmured, feeling the carriage lower as they prepared to let you out.

“Please, come out. We will wait for you by the riverbank,” another man instructed, his voice firm yet respectful.

Climbing out of the carriage, you noted that the men sat dutifully by the river, their gazes averted to preserve your dignity as the lord's wife.

“Call us when you’re done,” one of the men said loudly.

“Yes,” you replied, your voice steady despite the nerves churning within you. “I’m sorry; it might take a while. I suppose I’m a little nervous about meeting Lord Yamamoto.”

You made your way into the depths of the forest, further from the men, quickly scanning your surroundings to plan your escape. Your heart raced; you knew you only had so much time. Without another glance back, you took a deep breath and made a run for it, pushing yourself into the wilderness.

---

It was a miracle you had managed to escape, but as you feared, nightfall approached quickly, casting the forest into darkness and enveloping you in a chilling cold. A part of you had anticipated the difficult challenge of surviving a night in the wild, but you didn't have much time to consider the grim reality of your situation.

You patted your surroundings to guide yourself through the increasingly opaque darkness. Oddly enough, you didn’t feel scared—not nearly as terrified as when you had been coerced into marrying Lord Yamamoto.

You suddenly recalled the stories your grandmother used to tell about the forest and mountains. She described them as spiritual places where benevolent and malevolent spirits coexisted. If you were fortunate, the kind spirits would guide and protect you; but if luck was not on your side, the malevolent spirits would claim you as their own. It was strange that amidst your dire situation, you were reminiscing about these childhood tales, and a sense of unease began to settle in your chest.

After some time, it became apparent that you were lost. You couldn’t tell if you were moving deeper into the forest or away from it; it felt like an endless abyss. You were getting tired and cold, so you decided to stop your exploration, this was where you would have to set up camp for the night. You attempted to fashion a makeshift bed out of your wedding kimono, and you shivered as you lay atop your haori, realizing perhaps you shouldn’t have taken it off. Staring into the darkness, exhaustion took over, and you began to drift into sleep.

You were not sure how long you had been asleep when peculiar sounds jolted you awake. Your senses heightened, and you feared you might have come into contact with a wild animal. Listening closely, your blood ran cold. The sounds were not those of a mere animal; bones were snapping, flesh tearing, and spluttering noises could be heard. Was this what awaited you—death?

Suddenly, silence enveloped the forest. You clasped your hands tightly over your mouth, feeling bile rise in your throat. Your survival now depended on remaining as quiet as possible, but the sound of heavy footsteps drew closer. You realized you had already been noticed, and with no other option, you gathered every ounce of strength to escape.

You barely made it a few steps before whatever it was caught up to you at an inhuman speed. A powerful grip seized your arm, and an intense force held you in place—it felt as if your arm might snap under the pressure.

"Ah—!" you tried to scream, but a rush of air stole your voice before you could utter another sound. In an instant, the figure turned you around, enveloping you in a tight embrace.

Your heart raced as you stood there wide-eyed, confusion swirling within you as you tried to process what had just occurred. The forest fell silent, the usual sounds of the night muted, leaving you alone with the darkness that surrounded you and the shadowy figure holding you.

Was this a friend or foe? The uncertainty gnawed at you, heightening your anxiety. Just as panic began to bubble to the surface, a voice broke through the stillness.

"Little flower."

---

Sukuna's POV

For Sukuna, this encounter felt like a resurgence of old feelings he had desperately tried to lock away. Every moment shared in the past relentlessly crashed over him, threatening to consume him. Time had altered him, reshaping his reality in ways beyond imagination. Yet here you were, untouched by the darkness, a flower blossoming amidst the ash. It appeared that while he had changed irrevocably, you had remained the same.

You had never met him after your fateful encounter as a child, and though your memory served you correctly, Sukuna could not say the same for himself. After his encounter with you, he had earnestly believed that he would not be able to return to your village; after all, beggars couldn't be choosers. In his mind, he would have to go wherever his next meal was.

As he began to travel, he meticulously retraced every step he took, a part of him still hoping to one day find a way back to you. The thought lingered like a whisper in the back of his mind. To his astonishment, it was as if fate had decided to grant him one wish. He stumbled upon an abandoned temple at the foot of a mountain, close to your village. The temple seemed to have belonged to a fire deity many years ago, and from that day forward, Sukuna made the temple his home. He would make the trip to steal glimpses of you from time to time. In his mind, he convinced himself that he was satisfied with seeing you from afar.

Sukuna quietly watched you—ensuring he kept you at arm's length. It became almost like a sacred duty to him, maintaining distance while keeping his desires at bay. Often, he would hear you call out his name in the very same forest where the two of you had sat together, sharing steamed buns. It took tremendous restraint to remain hidden, despite knowing you searched for him. He assured himself this was for the best, for this was how it should be.

As the seasons changed and repeated, he watched you bloom into the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on—a vision that captivated him more than anything he had ever encountered. Meanwhile, he had truly established himself as the King of Curses. Over the years, Sukuna had transformed into a force to be reckoned with, the pinnacle of jujutsu sorcery. He mercilessly hunted down curses, beasts, and people, reveling in the chaos and destruction he left in his wake. His bloodlust was insatiable, an ever-growing hunger that consumed him. If the two of you were to ever reunite, would you be able to embrace the man he had become and the grim realities of all he had done?

A part of him selfishly wanted to whisk you away, to claim you as his own. It would have been easy for him to act on those desires, to force you into complete submission, yet the very thought that you might come to resent or loathe him filled him with a profound dread. You had always awakened feelings within him that were foreign and unsettling, yet utterly intoxicating.

Life had become less isolating after meeting Uraume; the two of them shared a mentor-pupil relationship that brought a semblance of companionship to his solitary life. Uraume was not only a powerful sorcerer in their own right but also remarkably adept in the domestic sphere, handling cooking and chores with ease and efficiency. Sukuna willingly took them under his wing, finding comfort in their presence.

Then shortly after came Yorozu. She quickly caught Sukuna’s attention not just for her looks, but for her undeniable strength as a sorcerer. They shared the same bloodlust and a thrill for battle that bound them together. Over time, her obsession with Sukuna deepened, an intense devotion that complemented her wild and brash personality. She understood Sukuna in ways few could and accepted him unconditionally. Though they had an intimate relationship, Sukuna never once considered Yorozu as anything more than a fleeting distraction. The labyrinths of his heart still whispered your name. Many times, he had wished it were you writhing beneath him, your voice crying out his name.

Sukuna often imagined what it would have been like if he had continued to visit you instead, envisioning a life where the two of you grew up together. Where would that path have led both of you? Would you still have been his friend, unwavering and loyal? Or would you have learned to despise him like so many others had? Perhaps—he felt a dull shame in having such thoughts—would you have been willing to leave everything behind to be with him?

But one day, it all came crashing down on him. He was finally forced to confront his longing and fantasies when he saw you leaving the village in a wedding kimono, stepping into a shoulder carriage. You were smiling, and judging by the grandeur of the spectacle, it seemed you were marrying into a well-off family. In that moment, he had to accept the painful truth: you were no longer his.

Yes, this was how it should be; this was what you deserved. But no matter how much he repeated it to himself like a mantra, he couldn't suppress the rush of anger, jealousy, and bitterness that surged within him. That same day, Sukuna returned to the forest near the temple, his resolve completely shattered. In a fit of rage, he exterminated countless curses, unleashing his fury upon anything that dared exist in his path—until the voices of four men broke through his wrath.

“Damn it, where did she go?” one of the men exclaimed, panic evident in his voice.

“I knew something was off,” another replied with a sigh.

Sukuna immediately pinpointed the source of the voices; he recognized them as the same men who had come to collect you in that carriage. What happened? Why were they searching for you? Were you in danger? He continued to stalk the four men unnoticed, gathering information in silence. But he also knew the forest was immensely dangerous—he needed to find you before something else did.

“Lord Yamamoto would be furious to know that Lady Y/N has run away; he will have our heads!” one of the men said, his anxiety palpable.

“Keep looking,” a third man urged. “She couldn't have gone far. A girl won’t survive alone in the forest.”

A few moments into their frantic search, one man spoke up, his voice low but anxious. “Do you think those rumors about Lady Y/N are true?”

“Not this again,” another groaned, shaking his head. “I’d rather not think about it.”

"But Lord Yamamoto seems to believe them,” the first man insisted.

“That’s not our concern,” the fourth man interjected dismissively. “If Lord Yamamoto is gracious enough to accept her despite the rumors, then who are we to question it?”

“But what if she curses the Yamamoto household as well? Our lord could have chosen another young woman—why her?” the third man pressed.

“It’s not that simple,” the second man said, his voice rising in frustration. “Our lord has a reputation. Not to mention, he’s getting old with no male heir to inherit his name—he's desperate.”

"I heard Lady Y/N has no family; after Lord Yamamoto gets what he wants out of it, he could easily dispose of her. Nobody will come looking for her or mourn for her."

“Still, if it were up to me, I wouldn’t have chosen a woman who was impure. I heard it wasn't just any man she bedded, it was a demon: the King of Curses,” the first man's voice dripped with disdain.

Sukuna stopped in his tracks, his blood running hot.

“Keep your mouth shut!” one of the men warned sharply. “Do you not realize that we are in his territory right now?”

“Is that why you were so on edge since we entered the forest?” another scoffed. “Do you truly believe such a beast exists?”

“Why don’t the two of you stop talking and just look for her?” the fourth man urged, frustration lining his voice. “It won’t be her who perishes if we return to Lord Yamamoto without his bride.”

A torrent of emotions swirled inside Sukuna; the thought of you being treated like livestock to produce an heir for an aging lord disgusted him. And then there were the rumors about you sleeping with the King of Curses—how had that even come about? Sukuna's chest tightened as he surmised that you had probably run away from it all. This was all he needed to know. Without hesitation, Sukuna appeared before the four men.

"Good day, sir!" one of the men called out as he spotted Sukuna. "We are looking for a young woman. Have you seen her by any chance?"

Sukuna remained silent, his gaze fixed as he continued to walk towards them, an unsettling calm surrounding him.

"Tch, where are his manners?" one of them muttered under his breath.

“Wait, he looks a bit strange…” a third man whispered, unease settling into his voice.

"We're looking for a woman—” another started, but he faltered.

“I heard you the first time,” Sukuna snarled, his voice low and menacing.

The four men stood wide-eyed and frozen in fear, realizing that the King of Curses was indeed a real man—not a mere myth. Suddenly, an inexplicable force of impending doom engulfed them.

“You will do well to remember that you are in my domain,” Sukuna warned, his tone chilling.

“T-the King of Curses! It’s true!” one of the men stammered, panic rising in his voice.

“Hm, I suppose it is,” Sukuna replied, a taunting smile spreading across his face, akin to a cat toying with its prey.

“Forget Lady Y/N! W-we must inform Lord Yamamoto!” another man exclaimed, desperation lacing his words.

“How presumptuous of you, to think I would allow you to make it back to him," Sukuna’s smile turned sinister, his eyes glinting with anticipation of the chaos to come, "you could try to run, but it will be futile."

The four men began to sprint away, desperately trying to escape the King of Curses.

"Do your best. Run as fast as you can; I will give you ten seconds," Sukuna called out and began to count down.

"Time's up." Sukuna licked his lips and began to charge in their direction. Before the men could react, Sukuna struck, ripping them to shreds in an instant. Blood and gore splattered across the ground, painting the forest floor in a grotesque display of violence. A rush of exhilaration coursed through him as he reveled in the symphony of carnage before him. Every kill was an intense high for Sukuna; he was no different than an untamed beast. But he quickly pulled himself back to focus; after all, you were still missing, and he needed to find you before the sun set.

It was dark, and still, there were no signs of you. Sukuna knew this forest and mountain like the back of his hand, and he was in genuine disbelief that you had ventured so deeply into it. There was no way you would continue to wander blindly in the woods at this hour; you were probably tired and cold. He reasoned that the next logical step would be for you to set up camp somewhere, but he could feel the cursed energies of the forest becoming more potent by the minute. Of all the places you could have gotten lost, it just had to be here.

Sukuna gritted his teeth, his heart pounding frantically—a sensation that didn't come often for him. As he continued to navigate through the forest, he was suddenly hit with an intense surge of energy. This was no mere curse, and he couldn't risk you encountering it. Without hesitation, he made his way toward the source of the energy. He would extinguish it before resuming his search for you. But what he didn’t anticipate was that the curse would ultimately lead him to you.

Sukuna effortlessly slayed the curse, tearing it to shreds, when a vibrant piece of fabric caught his keen eye. Moving toward it, he suddenly heard a rustle as if someone was trying to make a run for it. It was you—he was sure of it. He quickly closed the distance, grabbing you by the arm. Before he could fully process the moment, his body instinctively pulled you into a fierce embrace.

“Little flower,” was all he could manage to say.

He knew it would be difficult to let you go again.

Writing © xechu - please do not redistribute or repost.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the photos used on this banner.

Taglist: @paradisestarfishh

[themiserablechick]

Pumpkin

mdni

Age Gap (dbf! Art), degradation, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap.) Arts also kinda pathetic

a/n I have never posted smut on here and this isn’t edited so….also it’s so much longer than the first part I got carried away I guess. If this is bad please tell me. I also have a lot of smut that’s just sitting in my drafts so if y'all want that…

Part 1

Art told everyone he’d sleep in hopefully to avoid your hand sliding down his thigh at breakfast, when he did come down to the breakfast at the hotel everyone was pretty much done eating and you were nowhere in sight. When he asked where you were your mom said that you hadn’t felt well, you’d come down later.

“Oh well I can bring her breakfast,” Art was a stupid man

When he reached your door a breakfast plate in hand and knocked you shouted “Sorry I don’t need house keeping,”

he scoffed “It’s me.”

He heard shuffling and you opened the door in your underwear and a t-shirt. Art cleared his throat

“That’s how you answer the door?”

“It’s you,” you said obviously

“Right well-uh, this is for you.”

You eyed the plate and then him “You brought me breakfast?”

Arts's face feels warm, he feels stupid or like a little kid. He has to remind himself he’s older than you. “I-yeah, your mom said you didn’t feel well.”

“Oh-“ you grab the breakfast plate

“I just wanted to sleep in, maybe sneak off to the pool,” you shrugged and looked back into the now empty suite you shared with his daughter, you turned back squinting at him. “Do you want to come in?”

His face reddens more “oh probably not-“ he saw visions of you wrapped in cigarette smoke enveloped in blue light from the pool “I think they’re waiting-“

You quirk a brow “it’s vacation no ones waiting”

You left the door open and sat on the bed he stood in the hallway for a second before closing the door behind him. He stood a good distance away from the bed like you were contagious

“Good to know you were thinking of me.” He chuckled “oh I wasn’t—“ he rubbed the back of his neck.

“I don’t know why you’re so set on denying yourself pleasure.”

He blushed slightly he felt like a high schooler “Why do you say stuff like that?”

“Because you know it’s true,”

“Your dad is a nice guy you know? He doesn’t deserve-“

“To have such a slut as a daughter?” You cut him off, setting your breakfast plate to the side

“That’s not what I was saying.”

“It’s what you meant.”

He looked down and you got up to stand across from him “why did you come up here?”

He didn’t answer.

You intruded his space your chest bumping his

“Tell me you didn’t come up here to fuck me.”

“Jesus—“ he looked to the side

“Look at me.” He turned his head and your faces were impossibly close. You leaned up to kiss him pressing your lips to his. At first he stood perfectly still his hands at his side but you took his hands in yours and guided them to the plumpness of your ass. He moaned at the feeling of his tongue running at the seam of your lips begging for entrance. His hands slid up to your hips and under your shirt at your waist.

He walked you back till your knees hit the back of the bed and you fell backward. He took off his shirt and you saw a glimpse of his face he looked pathetic like a kicked puppy. You laid back and he climbed between your legs. He kissed you like he hated you really hated you. His pumpkin. A nickname you eventually outgrew. You were born before his daughter 2 years older, and he always considered you as his own. He felt so gross. His hand reached between the two of you his fingers feeling the wet spot on your underwear.

“Are you always this wet?”

He sunk his fingers into you he felt warm,wet and tight, you whimpered at the feeling.

“I’m sorry” he said into your skin, he wasn’t apologizing for making you whimper he was apologizing for being there in the first place, for the hard-on in his pants

“Fuck- I’m sorry” he pumped deeper he moved his head under your jaw “why’d you make me do this??” He reached for the button of his pants shucking them and his boxers off “fuck why’d- you make me do this?” You just laid there unraveling he took his fingers in his mouth and sucked clean them like it was nothing

He aligned himself with you and bullied his cock into your tight hole “You’re such a slut,” his hips moved “making me fuck you.” He talked about you like you had powers beyond him, and he couldn’t help himself. You were so warm and you sucked him right in and he couldn’t remember the last time he actually fucked his wife.

“M’sorry.” You mewled “wanted you so bad.”

He pressed his lips to yours urgently, and he reached between the two of you searching to roll your clit between his fingers. You whined and bucked against him he was already coming

“Fuck feel so good, so tight.”he dropped his head to your shoulder he sped up feeling you tighten around him “I’m gonna-fuck” he groaned he tried to pull out but long legs wrapped around his hips

“Want you to come inside.” And just like that he was gone, you felt him come inside you. Warmth spread all over. He still moved his hips urging you to finish and you did not long after. He collapsed on top of you.

After silence he spoke up “I didn’t mean to call you a slut.” He said into your shoulder

“I know.” You ran a hair through blonde hair

He leaned up and kissed your head “Love you pumpkin.”

[shikai-the-storyteller]

Went to the bookstore today and asked about their mythology section and this frickin guy had the gall to be like "Yeah it's over here, but these are really dense and difficult so let me show you the children's mythology section." I was so baffled I didn't say anything. Normally I would've been very offended, but I couldn't help but laugh because I was like "I've been reading those massive textbook-esque mythology books since I was a literal child as research for my novel, sir. But sure, show me the kid's section, I like reading kids' books too."

[drizzedoffrootbeer]

had a normal moment and googled my ex. 0/10 wouldn't recommend

[lupismaris]

No one gets under your skin and makes you feel sick quite like your siblings, and there's no numbness quite like the feeling of having to put a boundary firmly in place with a wide open door for them to walk through should they see it for one

[wlwadora-ble]

It’s crazy how other people perceive you different than you do like wym y’all perceive me and that perception can either be a distortion of me or an exact mirror but I’ll never recognize either because neither of us have the full context behind those perceptions

[secondpersonpoetry]

hi! heard the released “Merry Christmas, Please Don’t Call” (which i’ve seen you’ve heard live, if i’m not mistaken!!) this morning and i don’t know if there’s really a particular vibe/dynamic/ship hrpf-wise (personally haven’t yet been able to put my finger on it) that quite relates but the lyrics have been rotating in my head all day and i was wondering if you had any thoughts? hope you have a good one! <3

OH ANON HAVE I EVER SEEN IT LIVE!!! and the second that song came out i zoomed it straight into my fic playlist and unfortunately there are so many guys this could be. right now the one that's resonating is, of course, the golden boy and his haunted ghost themselves: mcstrome.

i am thinking about connor, specifically, after the stanley cup final. that game seven. how angry he was, how loud the silence when they told him he won the conn smythe. how close he's come before and again and again lost. there's nobody else to blame but himself. he's in the empty room and he knows why (1)

at!! your best!!! you were magic!!! oh, golden boy. connor the anointed, of course. at the very beginning of his career we always knew he was something special and who wouldn't have fallen in love with him? weren't all of us a little bit dylan strome in awe of the generational talent? we were all bathed in radiant light just by being in the vicinity (2)

don't even tell 'em that you know me breaks my heart (3). in terms of building a narrative i think i've said before there is a universe where connor/dylan were together before the draft and to protect both of them, dylan breaks up with him. connor says i love you and dylan says i don't. because he doesn't, you know? he loved connor. he loved davo. he can't be in love with connor mcdavid, first overall pick of the edmonton oilers. i'd rather be hurt forever than have to watch us try to make this work and destroy us.

and after connor mcdavid left the otters, dylan strome captained them to a memorial cup win. what a haunted home, eh? to be captain of the team you and your best friend were on, only now he's left you? don't call me to tell me about your rookie season with the oilers--we both know about your broken collarbone. don't call me to tell about becoming the youngest captain in franchise history when i stepped into the shoes of your captaincy here. don't call me. (4)

narratively: dylan's the one who broke connor's heart and his own but by god it wasn't easy. we both know what happened, you went first overall. please don't make this harder on me. please don't call.

this verse can be about the weight of dylan having to live up to connor's standards and always being measured by him. i would just like to bring up the connor stepping stone chart for absolutely no reason as well (5)

we are, at long last, at the potential future of now: dylan strome, happy, smiling, thriving on the washington capitals. connor, on the oilers. i'm not yours, dylan can say. haven't been for a long time. it took some time but i made this. please don't call and ruin this for me, stay out of my life. i don't want you or need you (6)

[p.s. this took a while because when i received this ask i was a) immediately possessed to write this verse by verse breakdown i had never thought of before and then b) immediately plagued by the idea of making you a little graphic (above the read more) and finally got to do it after banging out all the actual lyric thoughts two (?) weeks ago. emerging two and a half hours later from the fugue state of GIMP with 37 layers in this bad boy hope you enjoy!!!]

[dark-fics-4-you]

Angel

dark!stepbro!Rafe Cameron x f!Reader

Warnings: noncon (rape), somno, incest (step siblings), loss of virginity, unprotected sex, unwanted creampie, drugs, drinking, possessive behavior, controlling behavior, mentions of previous male masturbation

A/N: in my mind, Rafe is like 2-3 years older than Reader (everyone is 18+ and college aged)

Rafe’s knuckles were turning white as he gripped the steering wheel. The speedometer was flirting with triple digits but his eyes still flicked back and forth between you and the road.

He should have known better, he did know better, and still he let you walk out of the house wearing that sad excuse of an angel “costume.” In reality it was just tiny white ruffle shorts paired with a white corset along with angel wings and a halo top headband.

Any other night if you had tried to walk out the door in lingerie in front of your step brother, he would have told you to change, but because it was halloween, and seeing you dressed up like that made him so hard he couldn’t think straight, of course he had said ‘yes’ knowing he’d be walking into the party with the hottest girl on the island on his arm.

What he hadn’t anticipated however, was the number of guys (especially his friends) who had the balls to flirt with his little step sister right in front of him.

Even Topper and Kelce had been eyeing you differently and it pissed Rafe off to no end.

You followed him to the kitchen where he grabbed drinks for both of you and he tried to ignore the eyes that were raking up and down your exposed body.

“Are any of your friends here yet?” He asked as he passed your drink to you.

“I don’t think so,” you answered, fishing your phone out of your purse to check your texts.

He hadn’t planned on letting you out of his sight, much less 5 feet from his side, but when he felt someone tap him on the shoulder, he spun around to see a blond girl in a Tinkerbell costume.

“Are you one of Topper’s friends?”

“Yeah.”

“Hi, I’m Tiffany,” she flashed a smile as she drank him in with her eyes.

“Rafe.” He responded dryly, taking a swig from his solo cup.

“What’s your costume supposed to be?” Her voice annoyed Rafe and he looked down at his blue jumpsuit for a second to remind himself before answering.

“Cornelius Snow, I think? Um, from the Hunger Games? I don’t know, it was Y/N’s idea.” He mumbled, looking past the girl to check on you, but when he realized you were no longer standing beside him, or even in the same room, he quickly brushed past her without a word.

Luckily you didn’t travel too far, but Rafe’s relief upon finding you was short lived.

Two kook guys were standing next to you, practically eating you with their eyes, and sweet, oblivious you were none the wiser.

“I love your costume,” one said.

“You look fantastic tonight.”

“Aw thanks!” You beamed.

“Looks like your cup is getting empty, you want me to grab you a refill?”

“If you don’t mind-” you had begun handing your solo cup to the guy but you stopped yourself when Rafe appeared to your right, snatching the cup out of your hand and wrapping his arm around your waist possessively.

“It’s okay, I can take care of her,” he snapped at the two guys, shooting a deadly glare at them as he led you away.

“Rafe, what was that about?” You complained, completely confused by his behavior.

“Are you stupid or something, Y/N? Because I just watched you try to hand your drink over to two complete strangers at a fucking frat party.”

“They were just being nice-”

“They could have been trying to drug you for all you know,” Rafe chided you sternly and you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was talking to you like you were a little kid. “Rose put me in charge of taking care of you tonight, and you’re not exactly making it easy on me by disappearing without a word and accepting drinks from frat brothers.”

The two of you arrived at the kitchen and you silently handed your cup to him to refill your drink.

“Just… be careful, Y/N/N, okay?” You had turned away from him and he couldn’t help but eye the way your corset showed off your perfect tits, and he dryly swallowed, hoping that his hard on wasn’t too obvious.

You turned to look at him, sighing like you were annoyed, but you nodded your head as you grabbed the drink from him, “I know, Rafey, I know.”

“Where are your friends at?”

“They should be here by now, but I haven’t seen them just yet.” You looked around the room you were in, still not finding them. “I need to pee, where’s the bathroom?”

He took your drink, pointing towards the hallway where the restrooms were.

“Come right back here, okay?”

“Mm ‘kay,” you responded, heading to the bathroom.

Rafe didn’t want to be so worried about you, he didn’t want to be so over-protective, but he couldn’t help how possessive he felt over you, and the thought of any other man talking to you, much less touching you, was enough to have Rafe itching to grab a gun.

He hadn’t realized how long it had been until he checked the time and realized you had been gone for almost 10 minutes, which seemed unusual.

Rafe went to the bathroom, knocking on the door only to find that it was empty.

He cursed under his breath, angry that you had snuck away from him again, and he closed the door behind him as he anxiously pulled out his small bag of coke, using his key to bring a bump to his nostril.

Shit like this was the reason he did coke so much.

Rafe left, slamming the door before turning to look throughout the large house party.

You weren’t in the first crowded room that he checked, or the second, or the third; and by the time Rafe finally found you with Topper, watching him set up a line for you before handing you a rolled up dollar bill he was seeing red.

He watched as you leaned over the table and sniffed the white powder into your nose, his knuckles curling into fists when Topper draped one arm over your shoulders.

When you looked up and locked eyes with him, your face dropped in an instant.

“What the fuck are you doing, Y/N?”

“Rafe-” Topper jumped in his seat, removing his arm as his face turning red when he realized how pissed off Rafe really was.

“Shut the fuck up, Top.” He snapped, never taking his burning gaze off of you. “What the fuck are you doing, Y/N?”

“I- Top was just showing me how to…”

“No.”

“What?”

“No, you’re done. Party’s over.” Your step brother stalked closer, wrapping his hand around your arm and harshly yanking you up off the couch.

“Rafe, you can’t be serious, you do it all the time!” You protested, trying to pull against his tight grip as he forced you through the house and toward the front door.

“I said, no. We’re going home. Now.” His voice was practically shaking with rage at this point, the effects of the bump he took in the bathroom settling in.

“You’re being so unfair! My friends aren’t even here yet!” Your voice slurred and Rafe realized how drunk you were.

“Did you have another drink?”

“Topper made me one,” you answered, and now Rafe really wanted to kill him.

What the fuck was he thinking getting his little sister drunk and giving you coke? Apparently Sarah wasn’t enough for him, he wanted another Cameron sister as well.

He could have Sarah for all Rafe cared, but you were his.

“Are you even sober enough to drive?”

“Yes,” he snipped, pulling open the passenger door of his truck and roughly pushing you in before loudly slamming it shut.

The drive back to your house was filled with a tense silence, and you were too drunk to realize just how fast Rafe was driving.

Rafe just stewed in his anger and frustration, equally pissed off at you and all of the jackasses who had been hitting on you.

Especially fucking Topper.

He should have known better.

Rafe pulled into the driveway, mentally preparing himself for the explanation he was going to have to give Rose if she was still awake, but when he glanced over at your seat, you were fast asleep. He sighed, partly in relief that he wouldn’t have to explain himself, but also frustrated that he couldn’t chew you out more.

He got out of the truck, coming around to your side to scoop you into his arms and carry you inside. Rafe cradled you in his arms, careful not to wake you as he brought you up the stairs and to your room, closing the door before softly laying you onto your bed.

Rafe leaned over, his fingers found the straps of your shoes, undoing them before pulling your heels off your feet and laying them onto the floor, where he took off his own boots as well.

When he turned his attention back to you, you looked so peaceful and beautiful it made his cock throb and Rafe suppressed a groan as he brushed a stray hair out of your eyes.

His gaze landed on your soft lips, and before he could stop himself, before he even knew what he was doing, really, Rafe leaned down, pressing his lips to yours for the very first time.

Rafe’s hand came to your face, softly stroking your cheek as his lips moved against yours. You tasted like alcoholic punch and cherry lip gloss, and Rafe could feel his hard on straining against the material of his jumpsuit.

He pulled away, head spinning as he mindlessly unzipped the top of his jumpsuit, pushing the fabric off his shoulders before reaching for the zipper on his pants.

All he could think about were all of the frat guys at the party eyeing you like you were a piece of meat they couldn’t wait to sink their teeth into. Like you were some prize to be won.

At the same time, the thought of someone else being your first ignited a blind rage inside of Rafe, one that festered in his brain and mutated into an ugly, twisted desire.

He wasn’t going to let his sweet angel of a step sister get taken advantage of or corrupted by any of the awful guys on the island, kooks or pogues.

If anyone was going to be your first, it was going to be him.

Rafe looked down, surprised when he realized he had been leaning over your sleeping form, pumping his hard cock with his hand.

He stopped himself for a moment, afraid that you might wake up, but you barely stirred, too deep in sleep to register your older step brother leering over you.

The blond took a shaky breath as he reached out towards your hips, his fingers brushing along the soft material of your shorts before finding the waistband and slowly pulling them down your legs.

“Fuck,” he softly groaned as he took in your matching white, lacy panties beneath.

Admittedly, Rafe was no stranger to going through your underwear drawer and stealing a pair of your underwear to jack off into as he fantasized about hate fucking you every time you did something to piss him off.

These were unfamiliar to him. You must have bought them just for halloween, he thought, a new wave of possessive jealousy coursing through him.

Were you seriously thinking about fucking someone tonight? Maybe your friends were never even coming to the party, and it was all a ploy for you to slip away from Rafe and hook up with some asshole.

Rafe’s large hands came to your hips, grabbing your panties and yanking them down your legs. His heart was beating so loudly in his chest he was afraid you might hear it, but he couldn’t stop himself.

He had to know how good you felt, he had to make sure he was your first.

He guided himself to your core, cursing under his breath as he rubbed the tip of his cock along your messy slit. You already felt so wet, he barely had to touch you, and he wondered if there was some part of you that subconsciously knew what was going on, that wanted this to happen.

His hands found the back of your thighs, spreading your legs further apart so he could get closer to you.

When he rubbed his cock against your clit, you squirmed a bit and a soft hum that sounded suspiciously like a moan fell past your lips.

He felt his cock twitch, aching to fill you up, and Rafe finally lined himself up with your slick lips before planting his arms beside your waist and pushing his leaking tip inside of you.

You felt so warm and tight, and the feel of your silky walls squeezing around the head of his cock was better than anything he could have possibly imagined. He slowly began moving, not going any deeper, but just creating a friction that made his jaw clench as he held back groans.

“Shit, Y/N,” he whispered, leaning over to press his feverish lips to yours again, the feeling of your cunt pulling him in making him feel dizzy.

He hadn’t intended to go any further, that’s what he told himself. He thought if he just got a taste, he could be satisfied and he could wait until later to have all of you.

But when his eyes flicked down to where your bodies connected, he was surprised to find half of his length disappearing into you.

You whimpered in your sleep as your walls pulsed around him, distracting him from his moral quandaries. Rafe reached a hand to your chest, cupping one of your tits over your corset as his pace slowly increased.

“God you’re fucking perfect,” Rafe murmured, his lips finding yours again. All the while, he pushed himself deeper and deeper inside you until his tip kissed your cervix.

Far too gone to turn back now, and spurred on by your soft whimpers and gasps, Rafe’s hips were snapping against yours faster now, channeling his frustrations into punishing you for the way you acted tonight.

You wanted to lose your virginity so badly? Fine, Rafe thought, he would take it from you to insure he would be your first and only.

He knew it was wrong, god, it was sick how deeply he needed to ruin you for daring to disobey him. Rafe was well aware that he crossing every boundary in the world, that you would hate that he had robbed you of this experience if you ever found out; but maybe that’s why he was so painfully hard as he rutted into you over and over.

And imagining sitting across from you at the dinner table, knowing that his sweet, innocent sister would have no idea that her older step brother was her first was almost enough to make him cum.

But the thing that really sent him over the edge, what had him spilling himself deep inside you and filling your walls with his hot, sticky cum, was your soft, angelic voice moaning his name in your sleep.

[secretsandwriting]

heyyyy ryyyyy <333

since ur requests are open i thought id go ahead and ask if you're mayhaps open to anything for batmom? i don't have a completely solid idea but maybe smn like batmom has been getting threats or maybe hate or smn from somebody and everyone's reactions and how they get hella protective?

obv no pressure and you definitely do not have to write this

hope you have a great day bb

Heyyyyy, so this grew hands and wrote itself, I hope you enjoy it. It did end up with a lot of backstory.

Earned Position

5.3k words

You knew this would happen. Once your relationship with Bruce got out there would be an influx of love and hate. You also knew that everyone else knew that as well. It was common knowledge than anyone around a celebrity of sorts would experience that. 

Of course you did the normal things, turned off most notifications and only looked through areas online you knew would mostly be safe. You blocked tags and and only followed people you knew or ones who didn’t post about drama. 

When you did stumble onto hate, you moved on. If someone kept sending you nasty messages you blocked them, when they made other accounts to keep sending the same things, you changed your settings so only those you followed could message you. 

It wasn’t something you wanted to deal with but it was something you could handle. Something you started mentally preparing yourself for when Bruce’s attention on you lasted more than 4 dates, even more so when you caught yourself daydreaming about him.

You were not going to let random bitter people on the internet destroy your happiness like they did their own. Your family however, wanted to destroy what was left of your haters' happiness. Something you were trying to curb, but trying to tell a family of vigilantes who considered you the best mom in existence not to destroy your haters was like talking to a brick wall. Over the years, you had gotten used to it. It barely even registered anymore. But there had been a recent influx of the hate and while it didn’t bother you, it bothered the rest of your family. None of them could stand people talking bad about their mom.

While you hadn’t been there while the older ones were young, the second you had introduced yourself to them, you had taken a very important role in their lives. None of them realizing it at first. All of them had gotten used to the random women Bruce brought home that it took a little while for them to realize how important you were. 

Dick wasn’t sure at first. Thinking you were just another girlfriend that wouldn’t last long. So he didn’t really interact with you much. Ignoring your existence when it wasn’t too rude, or at least obviously rude. Until one night when he was staying at the manor and had a nightmare about his parents death. 

Bruce had an open bed policy. As long as there was still room for him, his bed was open. A policy he had started when Dick had gotten old enough he was worried he wouldn’t be allowed to go when he had a nightmare. Bruce had always reminded all his kids, that nightmares don’t go away just because you’re older and that needing comfort wasn’t something they would outgrow. 

The thing was, you were there. Girlfriends didn’t mind when children did it but they never liked it when his adult kids did it. The shaking in his hands and the way he saw them fall in the darkness of every blink told him the only way he was getting any sleep was with someone. 

Hopefully he could just slip into Bruce’s side and leave before you woke up. That was the plan until he found Damian on Bruce’s side and you had been pulled closer to Bruce taking up what was left. You moved a little and Dick took that as his sign to deal with it himself until he heard you whisper his name. He hummed so you knew it was him and not some random stranger standing over Bruce’s side of the bed. 

“Nightmare?”

“Yeah.”

“Come on.” You lifted the blanket next to you, “Bruce told me you guys come here when you have nightmares. There's plenty of room over here for you.” Dick hesitated for a second before giving in. He needed sleep anyway. You weren’t when you said there was plenty of room, Dick had most of your half of the bed. Once he had settled on his side, facing away from you, he felt you pull the blanket over his shoulders. 

“Night Dick, sleep well.” For some reason, that was what did it. Once the tears started they didn’t stop. Silent sobs made him shudder and he felt one of your hands gently rubbing his back. “Oh Dick.” There was no pity in your tone and he found himself rolling over and curling into you. Your chin resting on his head while you rubbed his back. 

The next day, he followed you around like a puppy. Your side of the bed became his favorite when he had nightmares and it wasn’t long before he turned to you for general comfort over anything.

Jason met you at his grave. Neither of you exchanged words, but he caught something in your gaze he didn’t quite understand. He also wasn’t sure why you were at his grave either, he didn’t know you when he was younger. 

When he saw the Gotham News post about Bruce and Your 2nd anniversary, it brought more questions than answers. Why were you at his grave alone? Let alone longer than a few seconds. It was an odd way to gain more of Bruce’s affections. 

Every Tuesday you would be there, leaving flowers and talking softly to the stone. Every time you left, you would smile and nod, the look in your eyes he couldn’t figure out was still there. Every time he would strain to heat what you were saying and only be able yo a few words here and there. 

6 months into it, the routine changed. You brought a blanket and Basket with your usual flowers. You did what you normally did with the flowers but instead of talking to the stone you waved him over. When he didn’t move, you stopped what you were doing and looked at him. 

“Jason Todd, I have been keeping your secret for 6 months. Helping me spread this blanket and having lunch won’t change it.” He stared at you while you waited expectantly. Eventually when he could get himself to move, he came over and helped. He sat down where you motioned for him too, all while trying to figure out how you knew.

“Bruce mentioned this used to be your favorite when you were younger so I asked Alfred to teach me how to make it. I hope it's up to your standards.” He looked at the plate of food you handed him. It was almost overflowing with food, all of which reminded him of the good times back at the manor before he died. “Alfred also sent your favorite cookies when he heard I would be eating at your grave.” The bag of cookies was placed next to the basket, within easy reach.

“Why?” Was all Jason managed to choke out around the lump in his throat.

“I decided early on in life, no matter who I was with, I would love their family as my own. My grandfather hated my grandmothers side and it caused a lot of pain in all the generations. I decided I would never do that to another family.” Jason found himself back in control enough to start eating. 

“So when I started dating Bruce and he told me about you, I decided to treat you like you were my own. Even though I had never met you and you were dead. Most of what that meant was keeping your grave clean and always making sure there were fresh flowers. While I did that, I would tell you everything that was going on.”

“How did you know it was me?”

“Your eyes, they may be a different color but they looked too similar. So I did a little digging and found pictures of your biological pictures to place the face shape it matched. I think however you look more like Bruce then either of them.”

“Are you going to tell them?”

“As much as I would love to. It’s your choice. You’ve been keeping this to yourself for a reason. If I can help you get to a place to tell them, I would love to. But I won’t say a word until you're ready. However, I would like to keep having lunch with you.” 

A year later, Jason reintroduced himself to the rest of the family a lot calmer than originally planned and was glued to your side anytime he felt overwhelmed that night. Every Tuesday after that, lunch was scheduled.

Tim was nervous when it came to you. He was still living in the manor so he saw you more than the older two. You always seemed nice and respected his privacy but Bruce was always with you so you obviously would. 

It was when he wasn’t around that worried Tim. Bruce attracted golddiggers and they were always mean when Bruce wasn’t there. When you were given a copy of the key, Time braced himself. 

Of course he knew that if he told Bruce anything that happened like that, Bruce would break it off. He had always told them that they came first. But he also knew that Bruce liked you a lot. All the other ones Bruce liked a lot that turned out to be horrible, he broked it off. Tim had seen how it had made him upset and he really hated doing that to him. Maybe he could deal with it for once. 

So when Bruce left for a business trip, Tim was Expecting the worst. What he didn’t expect was for you to knock on his door and ask if you could join him. When he agreed and stepped back so you could come in. He expected you to go to his bed or his desk chair not, the oversized bean bag on the floor.

“I have a question for you but you can’t tell Bruce yet.” Here it comes. “What would a funny way to tell him I know he’s Batman?” Tim wasn’t expecting that one. “I was thinking a lot of batpuns but his paranoia is too bad for that.”

“How did you figure it out?” You walked him through your process and didn’t say anything as he wrote parts of it down. Once you finished explaining the process for Bruce, you explained any way it was modified in figuring out their identities.

“Who do you think I am?”

“Red Robin.” Tim found himself getting excited. 

“You know those notes you leave him in his office?” You nodded. “You should leave those in the Batcave.” You considered it but your thinking was interrupted but Tim shouting. 

“No! One night when we’re all in the cave, you could bring some snacks!” 

“You just want snacks when he’s lecturing you don’t you?”

“Maybe..”

“Alright, but you have to tell the others so they can tell me what snack they want.”

So Tim slowly and carefully went through all his siblings, letting them know you figured it out, Bruce didn’t know, and what the plan is. Every time he relayed a snack to you he’d watch how carefully you’d write it out to make sure you had it correct or look up recipes if you couldn’t find it in stores. 

Two weeks later, Tim was the one who sent the signal in the middle of a lecture everyone was receiving and he got a front row seat to see Bruce’s face when you walked in and handed out snacks before giving him a kiss and telling him to be nice and leaving. 

Any other worries were left in the dust when you helped him win the nerf war for the best seat in the home theater. He thoroughly enjoyed his spot next to you while Bruce swore revenge from the other side of the room.

Damian treated you politely but that was it. His mother was still alive and he didn’t want another one, one was more than enough. Not only that, but you were weird. 

One time when you were over, you found one of his report cards. Immediately you were praising him. He didn’t understand why, he had basically failed one of his classes with an A-. You should be disappointed like his mother would be, not hanging it up on the fridge and telling people not to touch it. Definitely not taking him out for ice cream and calling him so smart. He definitely shouldn’t be feeling any pride when he walked past it, but he still was. 

When he was practicing his violin and Messed up, you were supposed to tell him to stop failing, that he should be better. Not smiling at him and telling him he’s making good progress. You should be telling him that he should have memorized that piece in a day. He shouldn’t be feeling any pride when he finally does memorize it, it took him 4 days to learn it.

When he was struggling to learn a language, you were supposed to tell him to work harder. He could do better, after all, he already knew so many. Instead you just smiled and recommended a break to refresh his mind. 

When he snapped at you in Arabic, he expected you to be upset since you didn’t know what he said and it was obviously not something nice. Instead you set the rule that if he was going to use Arabic to speak to you when upset, that he had to teach it to you and if what he said wasn’t something you had learned yet, he had to tell you in english. When he told you what it meant, you didn’t even get upset. He definitely shouldn’t be as excited as he was when you actually started learning. 

So many more little things piled up, leaving Damian confused. The differences between how you and his mother treated him was so big he didn’t know how to process it, he liked you and all the little things made him happy in a way he hadn’t really felt. But he still loved his mom, When he had enough of it, he asked you to stop. He still wanted to love his mom. Once again, you did something you weren’t supposed to.

“Oh Damian, I’m not trying to replace your mom nor am I trying to make you feel like you can’t love her or she doesn’t love you. Your mom and I show our love in different ways and its ok for you to love or like both of us. You mother loves you and she will always be allowed in your life if thats what you want.” You weren’t supposed to do that, but Damian was really glad you did.

Barbara wasn’t sure how you would react to her. She wasn’t just Bruce’s kid. She had a loving family she went back to every night. Most people weren’t really a fan of that, one of Bruce’s past girlfriends had some strong and hurtful things to say about it. 

When you took her for a day out, she found herself warming up to you but still waiting for the other shoe to drop. One of the new places you had planned to go, didn’t have wheelchair access. Like all the other girlfriends who had done this, she expected you to be annoyed that your plans had to change or you would just leave her outside while you shopped. 

You didn’t seem to notice her hesitation, just looking at what was next on your list and starting the trip there. When Barbara stared a little longer at a new movie that was in theaters, tickets and snacks were bought and you listed to all the lore she told you about before it started.

While it had been a nice day, Barbara wasn’t convinced. One day was easy to fake. Sure she had lots of fun, but Barbara was used to fakes when it came to Bruce’s girlfriends. Of course she wasn’t complaining about you being nice, she just wasn’t sure how long it would last. 

“Did you hear about that boutique?” She looked up from her food to look at her dad. “That new one that you tried to go to with Bruce’s girlfriend? Well there was a report that it didn’t meet the Americans with Disabilities act and the boutique is in trouble. People are speculating they’ll have to close down.”

Later that night, Barbara looked into it. They were in trouble, pretty big trouble from the looks of it. Towards the end of the article she found the name of the person who reported it, she wasn’t sure who she was expecting. Not you for sure but the Name Y/n L/n took her by surprise and filled her chest with feelings she couldn’t describe. 

The boutique ended up closing but a new one opened. Once it was open, you were the first to ask her to go. That weird feeling came back when she wheeled herself up the ramp and through the door you held open for her. Later that night, in the privacy of her room. She decided she liked you. 

Steph seemed like she liked you, she acted like she liked you, she didn’t really like you. Sure you were nice, Bruce loved you, the others were warming up to you, but she wasn’t sure how to feel about you. So she stuck with not actually liking you but pretending to. 

So when she was around you, it was all smiles and jokes. She wasn’t a big fan of it all but she did it because she knew you were important to Bruce and that was enough of a reason for her. She knew Bruce and the others could see through the act but as long as you couldn’t, that was enough. 

When Bruce announced he had to leave for a business trip right before she could hand him the parents visit for one of her AP classes, something the new teacher liked doing. She tucked the paper away. When Tim gave her a questioning look, she shook her head and later swore him to silence. 

Every time she heard someone mention their parents were going, she felt a pang of jealousy in her chest. Every time Tim mentioned bringing it up to you, she swore him into silence again. It wouldn’t be the first time no one showed up for her. She was however thankful you wouldn’t be at the manor as much so she didn’t have to pretend to like you.

When the day arrived, Steph was not having a good day. School dragged on slowly. Slower than normal. When school finally ended, she had to sit in the classroom and watch everyone else that was in her class leave and the parents of her classmates show up while no one was there or coming for her.

Someone sat in the seat next to her, she expected another family member of one of her classmates. Definitely not you. She couldn’t return your smile, too unsure of how you found out, the fact you actually showed up, and how she felt about you being there. You leaned a little closer so that the others in the room wouldn’t easily overhear. 

“I know I’m not your parent and someone you just pretend to like so if you want me to leave I will. But I figured someone was better then no one. Oh, and Tim wanted me to tell you he didn’t spill. Your teacher called the manor because no one had RSVPed for you and I answered it.”

That night, as Steph showed off all her hard work to you, the charade fell. She actually enjoyed her time with you and the boost of pride as you oohed and ahhed over all her projects and listened to her explain all the little details. That night, Steph realized, she didn’t need to keep pretending. She liked you, until she found out you didn’t like her favorite show but a nerf war solved that. 

Cass could tell you were different then the other girlfriends, your body language as you interacted with all of them showed it. However that didn’t mean she knew how to interact with you.

She had learned that she was fairly hard for new people to interact with. She also knew she had trouble interacting with people she wasn’t fighting. So it wasn’t a surprise when it started rocky. 

What was a surprise, was when you found out she was still having trouble reading and writing, you stepped in to help. Well, that wasn’t the surprising part, a lot of girlfriends did that. The surprising part was the amount of patience you had when it was only the two of you. 

When one method didn’t help, you tried another. Never once did you snap at her or call her a name. Everytime you got frustrated you would stop and look at her, say something along the lines of “If I had as much trouble with this as you do, I wouldn’t want to keep trying. You're doing absolutely amazing! I’ll keep looking for other ideas, but for now, lets take a break and get a treat.” 

Cass wasn’t sure why that always made her feel better, but it did. Every treat you brought was something you made just for the tutoring sessions and it always reminded her of what Alfred had told her once. “Something made with love for you will always taste better.”

And when a method that made it a little easier to learn was found, Cass found herself smiling along with your cheers. Bad days where she couldn’t seem to make any progress were always met with the same excitement, cheers, patience, and treats that all the others were. 

Cass still wasn’t sure of what to think of you exactly, but she knew she liked you and that you cared about her.

So when Tim saw the new rise in hate, a sibling meeting was called. They all went through each site, blood boiling as they saw what people were saying about their new parent. Plans were made, declarations of war were ready, and anger fueled all of them. Bruce could tell something was going on, but he wasn’t sure what it was and as long as it didn’t get out of had, he wasn’t sure if he had the energy to deal with it. 

War was declared in an interview by Steph. The lady was asking questions when the topic switched to Bruce, then you. The reporter was clearly trying to subtly find some dirt on you and Steph was not going to stand for it.

“Oh yeah! Y/n! She’s the best!” She put on her best press face. Trying to hide her anger over the hidden intent. She didn’t have to lie or act when talking about you but the change in the lady’s face going to disappointment when she didn’t get anything she wanted was making her look very punchable. 

“She’s always showing up for us and making sure we’re doing ok. If Y/n and Bruce were to break up, I think most of us would go with Y/n.” The way the lady kept trying to get anything really got on her nerves and Steph decided she needed to get out of there before she started using the lady’s face for target practice. You wouldn’t like that.

Cass was the first one to resort to violence. They had asked a thinly veiled question, basically asking if you were a golddigger. So she punched him in the nose and leaned down to flip the camera off. She hated interviews already but that made it so much worse. She hoped you wouldn’t be too upset with her punching the guy though.

Jason, surprisingly enough. Did not get violent… physically. He did however curse one out and threaten him when the reporter implied you were forcing them to say nice things. When the reporter kept pressing Jason broke his mic and told him if he ever heard him talking bad about you again, a broken mic would be the last of his worries. Jason knew you would be disappointed but he had held back, he didn’t shoot the guy like he wanted.

Tim threw his coffee at one reporter because he heard them say you were nothing but a regular person who didn’t deserve any attention. He then took over her segment, threatening the company to air it or he would make sure they went bankrupt. Once he finished his threats, anything he said was praising you name. Telling everyone how amazing you were and how much they all loved you.

Barbara made it a point to bring up everything you did for the community when they tried to throw some shade at you in an interview. She had documents to prove it and hacked their systems to add them into the interview so they couldn’t claim it was fake. She also made sure to run over his foot when she left. 

Dick punched a reporter when they tried to ask him what you were really like behind closed doors. He told them the truth, that you were just as good, kind, patient, and loving behind closed doors as you were out in public. He didn’t throw a punch until the reporter disregarded that as asked again because she couldn’t be that good. Dick knew a lecture would be coming once you saw, but he would rather sit through a lecture then let anyone tarnish your name.

Damian spent 10 minutes cursing and threatening a reporter in Arabic when they asked him if you had ever hurt him. When he was done, he told them in english, that if he ever got asked that question again, he would impale them. He knew you were going to make him sit down and translate everything and the general response you would give but he didn’t care, no one speaks bad about either of his mothers.

Bruce figured out what was going on after Steph’s interview. He saw the ones where they assaulted or threatened the reporters and made sure his lawyers were on standby to keep the kids out of trouble. After all, he had seen more than they had. 

He had watched as you tried to connect with Dick early on, how you worked hard to try and get somewhere. He had woken up before you when Dick had come in that night and heard how you handled it. He had woken up the next morning to find you holding Dick close, like you were trying to protect him from the nightmares. He had seen how you never turned Dick down when he wanted comfort, no matter how serious or silly the matter, and he had heard your excitement when you told him Dick liked you.

Bruce had seen the way you never missed a visit to Jason’s grave, on a visit of his own, he saw how much care you showed the stone marking it as his lost son. While he hadn’t been sure why it was alway the same time on Tuesday, he didn;t mention it. He felt the way you would sob in his arms after each visit, a year after the tradition started, you always said you had promised not to tell and he watched as you kept that promise even if it tore you to pieces. Once the shock and tears wore off for a little bit, he could see the trust that Jason had in you.

He heard the way you questioned if you should have a key to the manor, you didn’t want to make Tim uncomfortable in his own home, or how you questioned if you should visit while he was gone. Not wanting to stress Tim out when there was no reason too. He saw the way you and Tim grinned at each other when you brought snacks down for all the kids he was currently lecturing. He head the excitement in your voice as you told him about the tour Tim had given you of the Batcave and the shared laughter as you and Tim worked together to win the nerf war.

Bruce saw how you worked to give Damian the affection he didn’t think he needed. He felt you crying in his arms upset over the fact Damian thought you would be angry because he made a mistake or struggled in a class. He heard you practicing your Arabic as you got ready for bed and he watched as you stress paced over whether or not you said the right thing to him about his mother. 

He saw how angry you had been when you came back from your day out with Barbara. He had heard your call with your lawyer as you tried to figure out what to do. He saw you going through the laws and making a list to make sure your lawyer didn’t miss any. He heard about the movie you didn’t particularly care about and the lore you remembered in case of another because you wanted Barbara to have someone she could tell all of her favorite things too. 

Bruce saw the pictures you had taken from the school night. He heard all the details from you as you praised Steph’s work. He saw the way Steph stopped acting around you and the silly arguments the two of you would get into for fun. He heard the way you would listen to her as she verbally worked out her problems. He saw the way Steph looked for you in a crowd, the way she knew you were there but not where you stood exactly, the thought of you not being there never crossed her. 

He saw the way you stayed up late, researching different ways to teach reading and writing. He heard the patience and kindness and you worked with Cass. He saw the way you always made a treat just for Cass to have after each lesson because you wanted to reward her hard work. He heard the way you cried for Cass when she had a bad day and got frustrated with herself because you knew she was smart and you wanted her to see it too. He heard your celebrations when Cass made any progress, no matter the size. 

Bruce heard, saw, and felt the way you worked hard to have a relationship with his kids. How you had mourned for their losses, celebrated their wins, and felt their pain. He saw the way his kids blossomed under your care, growing to be better and more confident in themselves. The way you cared for them as if they were your own flesh and blood. So when he was asked about his kids behavior, he said as much. 

“Y/n has worked hard to be accepted by them. She’s given so much of her time, effort, patience, and love and never wanted anything in return. She always shows up for them, no matter what the occasion is, big or small, it doesn’t matter. If they want her there, she’ll be there. Everytime they need or want her, she’s there. She never judges them and treats them as if they were her own blood. Of course their upset and lashing out, people are insulting the woman who has cared for them more then most of their biological mothers.”

Later, a clip of you scolding Bruce and all the kids went viral. While you were scolding them over their behavior and making the kids who had reacted with violence or threats write apology letters because asking mean questions does not make it right to respond badly especially when its someone just trying to start drama. Everyone one noticed that there was no actual bite to your tone and no anger when they all refused to stop acting like that. In fact, there was a small soft smile on your face as you shook your head at your family.

[porcelian]

TRICKS, TREATS, & TOGETHER

PAIRING: jason todd ✗ gn!reader ;

SYNOPSIS: going treat-or-treating with your boyfriend and his little brother ;

ANON ASKED: “ Idea: Jason and Reader take Damian trick-or-treating and get mistaken for as his parents. ”

WARNINGS: none ! ;

WORD COUNT: 0.7k ;

NOTES: i regret keeping up with the “” ..

── .✦ MASTERLIST ; NAVIGATION.

THE EARTHY SMELL OF PUMPKINS WAFTS IN THE AIR. The manor is covered in decorations, inspired by the festive season of fall and the ‘spooky’ feeling of Halloween, as Dick puts it. Small ghost and orange-white candy cut-outs hang from the ceiling, spiderwebs and pumpkins littering the floor.

Speaking of pumpkins, Jason’s hand is covered in it. Mandatory ‘pumpkin carving’ session, Steph said. He tries to grip the makeshift knife to finish carving the angry triangle eye of the pumpkin, but his efforts fall short again.

He was hesitant to join in on the festivities, but after you were invited, you practically dragged him over to the manor.

“Seriously, Jason?” Tim deadpans, looking over Jason’s poorly carved pumpkin.

“It looks so miserable,” Duke says, stifling a giggle.

Jason playfully grins as he flicks pieces of pumpkin at them. “Good to know my struggle is entertaining for you guys.”

You chuckle, the sound a sweet melody to his ears.

You were with Alfred, baking his signature desserts that everyone knows and loves. The sweet smell catches the attention of everyone near the table; Steph already looks ready to pounce for the first bite with Cass right behind her.

You walk in with a plate full of cookies, little ghosts painted on them with frosting. The silly faces remind Jason of his family's failed attempts at carving them.

Tim stands up, waltzing near the plate. “I’ll take this one. Looks like it’s calling my name.”

"Excuse me? I literally saw it first." Steph’s cheeks puff up.

“You saw it, but I claimed it. There's a difference.”

Before either of them can grab a bite, you sneakily hand one to Damian.

He stares at the offering before taking it in his hand.

“C’mon, taste it. It’s a special recipe that Alfred and I came up with.” You smile.

Damian takes a bite, pouting before a small smile forms on his face. “It is acceptable.”

“Told ya.”

A chorus of groans comes from the rest of the family. Jason chuckles as he moves closer to stand beside you, wrapping an arm around your frame.

“Losing sucks, doesn’t it?”

“You lost too, Babybird,” Dick playfully rolls his eyes.

“That’s what you think.” You hand him the second cookie, which he bites into, looking all too satisfied.

“Halloween doesn’t seem all too bad,” Damian comments. “It is my first one, and I am satisfied with it.”

That catches your attention. “Your first Halloween? Have you ever gone trick-or-treating?”

“No, I have not.”

You turn to face Jason, an unspoken request hanging in the air. He looks at you, then at Damian, a soft smile forming on his lips. “Guess we’re going trick-or-treating, then.”

Damian looks at both of you, a faint hint of surprise in his eyes. “That seems rather childish.”

“Oh, c’mon,” you laugh, ruffling his hair gently. “It’s all part of the experience. Besides, you’ll be with us. It’ll be fun.”

Jason smirks, wiping his hands clean of pumpkin bits. “I’ll get my jacket.”

*****

The three of you stroll through the streets of Gotham, the night alive with the chatter and laughter of kids dashing between houses. Damian, dressed as a mini vigilante—because, of course, he refused to wear anything else—keeps a straight face, but there’s a lightness in his step that betrays his excitement. Jason walks beside you, his hand finding yours, and you can’t help but grin at the relaxed atmosphere.

As you make your way from house to house, collecting candy in the little pumpkin bucket Damian insisted on carrying, a couple of neighbors smile warmly at the three of you.

“Such a cute family!” one older woman comments, handing out candy to Damian. “Enjoy the night with your little one.”

Both you and Jason freeze for a moment before bursting out laughing, much to Damian’s annoyance.

A faint pink blush covers Jason's cheeks, one you notice as you intertwine your fingers with his—a silent promise. Someone just referred to you and him as parents, as a family. The thought brings him a solace he didn’t think he could feel.

“We are not—” Damian starts, but you quickly pat his head.

“Don’t worry, sweetie. We’ll get you more candy,” you tease, winking at Jason.

“Should’ve brought the Batmobile stroller,” Jason adds, grinning as Damian glares up at him.

“Both of you are insufferable,” Damian mutters, but there’s no hiding the small smile tugging at the corner of his lips as the three of you continue your night.

© PORCELIAN﹕ I do not give consent for my writing to be posted or used on any other platforms without my permission and proper credit.

[dksfml]

what would you do if I went to touch you now? - riki

pairing: younger!nishimura riki x older!reader genre: office romance, flirty niki, workplace tension, niki teaches you japanese. summary: despite your best efforts to maintain professionalism, the undeniable tension between you and riki makes it impossible to resist the connection growing between you. it doesn't help that he calls you "noona" at work. warnings: suggestive, kissing, implied smut word count: 2.7k

your professional relationship with riki had been straightforward when he first started. quiet and shy, he took careful notes during meetings, absorbing the work culture like a sponge. as his mentor, you were tasked with guiding him through the ropes, ensuring he understood the nuances of the company.

“make sure he knows what he’s doing,” your boss had instructed, handing you the responsibility like a personal mission. and you took it seriously. riki was younger by a few years, in need of your guidance. at first, he seemed timid, his questions asked in soft tones, his posture always slightly defensive, as if afraid of stepping out of line. you naturally fell into a nurturing role, steering him whenever he seemed unsure, offering advice when necessary. but as time passed, riki's confidence grew, along with a noticeable shift in your dynamic.

it started subtly—small changes in his attitude. his work improved dramatically, and soon he was strutting around with a smirk, leaning back in his chair like he owned the place. his newfound cockiness was relentless, even though you reminded him to stay focused.

“riki,” you sighed, standing by his desk, flipping through his presentation slides. “i told you to cross-reference these with last quarter’s data. this is incomplete.”

he leaned back, arms crossed over his chest, the corner of his mouth twitching into a grin. “i was going to fix it, but i thought i’d leave some for you to correct, noona. keeps me humble.”

you narrowed your eyes, unamused. “this isn’t a game. you can’t slack off just because you’re comfortable. these clients are important, and if we don’t get this right, it’s on both of us.”

his grin faltered, but just as quickly, he masked it with a wink. “got it. i’ll fix it. but only if you promise to let me take you out for dinner when we nail this project.”

you shook your head, suppressing a smile. “this is serious. you missed an email i asked you to forward last week. and calling me ‘noona’ here at work? we need to keep this professional.”

riki straightened, the playful glint in his eyes dimming. “right,” he said, his voice softer. “i’ll keep it professional. but you can’t blame me for trying.”

you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, but deep down, you felt a rush of excitement at his boldness. “i want those revisions by the end of the day, riki. and no more flirting until this is done.”

“yes, ma’am,” he replied, a mock salute on his part, and for the first time in weeks, there was no teasing in his tone.

now, the two of you were working on a critical project, preparing a proposal for a japanese client your company was eager to sign. it wasn’t just a regular pitch; this deal was huge—a make-or-break moment that could lead to long-term collaboration. you had thrown yourself into the task, familiarizing yourself with every detail of the project. but there was one problem: the language barrier. the client preferred to communicate in japanese, and while you had learned some phrases, you were nowhere near fluent.

that’s when it struck you—riki was fluent in japanese. you recalled him casually mentioning it one afternoon, and now that you needed the skill, you struck a deal with him: he’d tutor you in japanese after work, and in return, you’d ensure his involvement in the project didn’t go unnoticed by the higher-ups. a fair exchange, strictly professional, you told yourself.

later that night, during one of your lessons, the atmosphere crackled with unspoken tension. riki sat across from you, leaning forward as you practiced reading a passage. you stumbled over a phrase, and his sharp gaze caught your mistake.

“no,” he corrected, his voice low and firm, sending shivers down your spine. “it’s nihon, not nee-hon. you’re stressing the first syllable too much.”

his tone was both authoritative and teasing, igniting a spark of mischief that made your heart race. “let’s go over that phrase again,” he said, his voice soft yet commanding. you nodded, struggling to focus, but the heat radiating from his body made it impossible to think clearly.

“try it one more time, noona,” he urged, leaning in closer, his breath brushing against your ear. the closeness sent a jolt of electricity coursing through you, and you instinctively shifted, seeking a little more space.

“um, okay,” you stammered, trying to keep your composure, but the way he looked at you—a mix of amusement and something deeper—made your cheeks flush. “i’m trying.”

riki leaned in even closer, his shoulder pressing against yours. “you’re not trying hard enough,” he teased, a smirk playing on his lips. “what’s the matter? feeling a little shy?”

“shy? no,” you protested, your voice barely above a whisper. “i just—”

“just what?” he interrupted, his gaze piercing into yours, his confidence unwavering. “can’t handle a little pressure?”

your heart raced at the challenge in his voice. “at work, i’m your superior, riki. you need to respect that.”

“respect?” he echoed, leaning back just enough to gauge your reaction. “or maybe you need to realize that i’m not the junior anymore. you’re the one who seems to struggle with that.” his eyes danced with mischief, and you felt a thrill race through you.

“riki,” you warned, but your voice faltered, unable to hide the quiver of excitement that danced beneath your words.

“tell me you’re not interested,” he challenged, leaning closer, their faces mere inches apart. the air thickened with tension, and you could feel his warmth enveloping you. “because i know you feel it too.”

before you could respond, the sudden power cut plunged the office into darkness, leaving only the dim emergency lights flickering above. your heart pounded, and the adrenaline heightened every sensation.

“well, i guess that’s the end of tonight’s lesson,” you attempted to joke, but your voice trembled, revealing your unease.

riki’s eyes glinted in the low light, a devilish grin spreading across his face. “no, we’re not done.” he leaned closer again, his hand brushing against yours, sending a wave of heat up your arm.

you pulled back slightly, heart racing. “riki, this isn’t—”

“isn’t what?” he whispered, his voice a low murmur that sent a thrill down your spine. “we both know there’s something between us.”

you opened your mouth to protest, but the urgency in his gaze silenced you. your breath hitched at the finality in his tone. the professional barrier you had carefully constructed was crumbling.

“we should go,” you muttered, fumbling to gather your things. but riki reached out, his hand brushing against yours, halting your movements.

“we could go to your place,” he suggested, his voice dangerously low. “finish the lesson there.”

the implications hung heavily between you. you met his gaze, searching for any trace of the playful riki you’d trained, the one who’d always danced around the line but never crossed it. but there was nothing playful in his expression now—only a raw intensity that made your skin prickle.

you nodded, unable to trust your voice, and within moments, you were heading out of the office together. the ride to your apartment was silent, the weight of what was about to happen sitting thick between you.

the door to your apartment clicked shut behind you, and the familiar surroundings only heightened the surreal nature of what was happening. you barely had time to turn on a light before riki was in front of you, his presence magnetic. the silence between you was thick with everything left unsaid, but his gaze—intense, burning—spoke volumes.

for a moment, neither of you moved, both caught in the tension that had been building for weeks. his eyes swept over your face, lingering on your lips as if contemplating his next move. you stood your ground, refusing to back away even as your pulse raced in anticipation.

“you’re still thinking about work, aren’t you?” his voice was low, teasing. he stepped closer, just close enough that the warmth of his body radiated through the space between you. “always so professional, noona.”

you swallowed, feeling the flutter of nerves in your stomach. “someone has to keep things in check,” you replied, though your voice faltered just slightly, betraying the tug of desire that made your skin prickle with anticipation.

he chuckled, soft and deep. “maybe it’s time you stopped thinking for once.”

before you could react, his hand slid up your arm, fingers curling gently around the nape of your neck as he pulled you toward him. his lips met yours in a kiss that was far from the playful teasing you were used to. it was hungry, intense, like he had been waiting for this moment as long as you had. the taste of him was intoxicating, and before you realized it, you were kissing him back with just as much need.

your back hit the wall softly as his body pressed into yours, every inch of him enveloping you, filling the space around you. his hands trailed down your sides, fingers ghosting over the fabric of your blouse before dipping under the hem, finding bare skin.

“riki,” you whispered, breaking the kiss for a breath, but your voice was breathless, needy. his name left your lips like a confession.

his lips barely left yours as he responded, his voice a raspy whisper. “you keep acting like you’re in control, noona,” he murmured against your skin, his hands now slipping around your waist, pulling you even closer. “but i don’t think you are anymore.”

the challenge in his voice made something inside you snap. you wanted to respond, to assert yourself as you always had, but the heat between you was overwhelming, and before you could muster a reply, his lips were on your neck, pressing soft, hot kisses along your skin that left you trembling.

“i’m not the kid you used to boss around,” he murmured between kisses, his breath warm against your ear. “you can’t keep treating me like i don’t know what i’m doing.”

his hands slid lower, and you gasped as his touch became more insistent, his fingers deftly working to unbutton your blouse. his lips returned to yours, and this time, the kiss was slower, deeper, as if he wanted to savor every second. there was nothing hurried about the way his hands roamed your body, exploring with a confidence that made your head spin.

you tugged at his shirt, pulling it over his head in one swift motion, your fingertips brushing over the smooth lines of his chest. he was handsome, undeniably so, but up close like this—underneath the layers of work clothes and the carefully constructed professionalism—he was breathtaking. your hands trailed over his skin, feeling the tautness of his muscles, the way his breath hitched slightly as you touched him.

he grinned against your lips as you pressed your body into his, feeling the hardness of his form against you. “see?” he whispered, his voice rough with desire. “you can’t even resist me now, noona.”

you wanted to argue, to assert your authority as you always had, but the way he looked at you—like he knew exactly how to unravel you—left you powerless.

his hands made quick work of the rest of your clothes, every movement deliberate, controlled. he was no longer the shy, uncertain junior you had once guided. here, in the dim light of your apartment, riki was commanding, confident, and he knew exactly what he was doing.

he lifted you effortlessly, carrying you to the bedroom, laying you down with a gentleness that contrasted with the heat of the moment. and then he was over you, his hands exploring, his lips trailing over your skin in ways that made your breath hitch. you responded in kind, your fingers digging into his back, pulling him closer, needing him closer.

when his mouth found yours again, it was softer this time, but no less intense. his touch was slow, deliberate, as if he wanted to memorize every inch of your body, every gasp and shiver he elicited. you couldn’t help the sounds that escaped you, soft whimpers that only seemed to spur him on.

“don’t think just because i’m calling you ‘noona’ that i’ll let you keep this up,” he teased, his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “you’re not the only one who can take charge.”

the air between you was charged with desire, thick with the tension that had been simmering for so long. every touch, every breath shared between you was electric, sending waves of pleasure rippling through your body. you had never imagined this—being here, with him, in this way—but now that you were, there was no going back.

and when he finally claimed you, when the last barriers between you fell away, it was like everything else disappeared. there was no work, no professionalism, no rules—just you and him, bodies moving together in perfect sync, lost in the heat of the moment.

the world outside faded into oblivion, and all that remained was the sound of your mingled breaths, the feeling of his skin against yours, the way he made you feel as though you were the only two people who mattered.

and in that moment, nothing else did.

“i still do want to take you on a dinner date though," riki said, breaking the silence with a light-hearted lilt that hung in the air like a sweet melody.

you pulled back slightly, your eyes searching his, as if seeking confirmation that this wasn’t just a fleeting fantasy. “really?” the question slipped out before you could hold it back, a mix of surprise and delight dancing in your voice.

“yeah, really,” he replied, his smile growing wider. “just you and me. somewhere nice. maybe italian? i hear they have the best pasta in town.”

his words wrapped around you like a warm embrace, grounding you in the moment. you could feel your heart quicken, the anticipation stirring something deep within you. “that sounds perfect. when do you want to go?”

“how about friday?” he suggested, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “i’ll even let you choose the place.”

a laugh escaped your lips, the sound light and airy. “i hope you’re ready for my pick then. i might take you to the best italian place in town, and you’ll be regretting it the next day.”

riki chuckled, the warmth of his laughter making your heart flutter. “i’ll take that risk. besides, i have a feeling it’ll be worth it.”

in that moment, as the soft glow of the streetlights seeped through the window, you felt the weight of the week lift, replaced by the promise of something beautiful on the horizon. but just as the excitement began to settle in, you were pulled back to reality by the sound of your phone vibrating against the table, a harsh reminder of the world outside this blissful bubble.

you glanced at the screen, and the moment slipped slightly, the glow of notifications flickering like an unwelcome reminder. it was a message from a friend, checking in about the weekend plans.

“sorry, i should probably—” you started, but riki gently took your hand, grounding you again.

“hey,” he said softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “you can always reply later. right now, let’s focus on us.”

you looked back at him, the connection reigniting. the moment stretched out like an unbroken thread between you, the world beyond the walls of this room fading once more into insignificance. you nodded, your heart soaring as you settled back into the warmth of his gaze, the future bright and inviting.

“so, friday it is?” you confirmed, your voice steady and full of excitement.

“definitely,” riki replied, a grin breaking across his face, as if he had just won a victory.

and just like that, the evening unfolded around you, a delicate balance of playful teasing and soft confessions, a new chapter beginning to write itself in the quiet spaces between your laughter.

[hoshifighting]

      wonwoo!best friend's brother

— your best friend's older brother, the guy who dropped out of university a long time ago but still shows up once in a while at your and your best friend's dorm. the thing is, she's in a tutoring class right now, leaving you and him alone after all these years of having a huge crush on him.

WARNINGS: +18, smut, making out, almost getting caught, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, fingering, blowjob, spiting.

KINKTOBER MASTERLIST

you hear the door click as you wipe down the last bit of the counter, the smell of cleaning products lingering in the air. wonwoo’s here again—because of course, he is. once a year, like clockwork, he pulls up outside your dorm building, car keys in hand, sipping some energy drink like he’s the busiest man alive, even though he’s been out of university for, what? two years now? maybe more. it’s almost funny, how he thinks showing up in his beat-up car, leaning against the doorframe, makes him look cool.

your best friend’s not even here. she’s in some tutoring session because she "really needs to pass this bio class." but, of course, she told you, warned you, that wonwoo might drop by.

“hey,” he says, leaning against the doorframe like some kind of model, downing a sip from the can like it's giving him more life than it should.

“she’s not here,” you say, wiping your hands on your shorts. you’re pretending like you’re not even thinking about the way they’re barely covering anything right now. it’s just cleaning clothes, but you catch his eyes flick down for half a second, and your heart skips a beat.

“oh? what, she ditch me or something?” he teases, eyes sparkling with that casual cockiness he always carries around.

you laugh, shaking your head. “nah, she’s at a tutoring session. bio, i think? she’s stressing hard. she said she’d be back in a couple hours, so you can wait if you want... or leave. i won’t stop you.”

“tutoring? she actually studying? i thought she gave that up ages ago,” he snickers, leaning against the couch, tapping his foot like he’s been there forever. “reminds me of my sister, always freaking out about school... only she actually tries.”

you snort, rolling your eyes. “yeah, well, not everyone’s like you, mister ‘dropped out but still thinks he runs the place.’”

“i’m just here for the vibes,” he shrugs, eyes settling on you for a little too long, way too comfortable. way too focused. “plus, i wouldn’t call it ‘dropping out’... i just, y’know, found my path elsewhere.”

you shake your head, pretending not to care. but fuck, that grin? dangerous. absolutely dangerous. the guy is too good-looking for his own good, and the fact that he’s here, all casual like he’s just dropping by, is making your heart race in a way you’re desperately trying to ignore. and those eyes—yeah, you can feel him looking at you.

you turn, grabbing a water from the fridge to cool down because jesus, he’s looking right through you. you twist the cap and take a long gulp, trying to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks, trying to play it cool.

“you good?” his voice cuts through the silence. casual, like it’s no big deal.

you choke a little on the water and turn around, trying not to look flustered. “yeah, yeah. why wouldn’t i be?”

he raises an eyebrow, clearly amused. “dunno, just... you’re kinda tense. cleaning stress?”

you laugh it off, but the sound’s more nervous than you want it to be. “something like that.”

fuck, why is this so hard?

he takes another sip of his red bull, his eyes flicking over your legs again, slower this time. it’s like he knows exactly what he’s doing, and you’re just... standing there, pretending you don’t feel it, but inside, you’re absolutely losing your mind. freaking out.

“you always this... jumpy around me?” he asks, smirking like he already knows the answer.

“shut up,” you toss a dish towel at him, more as a distraction for you than him, but he catches it easily, his grin widening.

“what, can’t take a little teasing? you’ve been dodging my questions all day.”

all day? he’s been here for twenty minutes. still, your stomach flips at the way he’s just standing there, so confident, so sure. it’s unfair how hot he is when he’s like this, leaning against the counter, arms crossed like he’s just waiting for you to crack.

“i’m not dodging anything,” you lie, crossing your arms, even though you know your face is giving you away. “you’re just being annoying.”

“am i?” he steps closer, his voice dropping slightly. “or am i just... distracting you?”

“wonwoo,” you start, your heart’s pounding, your skin tingling. “don’t.”

“don’t what?” he’s closer now, and fuck, he’s standing way too close, his breath brushing your cheek as he leans in. “i’m just talking, y/n.”

just talking, but the way his eyes drop to your lips says otherwise, and you’re not sure how much longer you can pretend this isn’t happening.

you’ve never been this close to him before, and it’s making your pulse race, your head spin. his hand hovers near your hip, like he’s waiting for permission, waiting for you to crack. it’s not fair how good he smells.

“you used to play dolls with my sister, you know,” he mutters, his lips brushing your ear. “now look at you.”

his fingers graze your waist, light at first, but the way his eyes lock on yours? there’s no going back. you shiver, heat pooling in your gut, and his hand slips lower, gripping the curve of your ass like it belongs to him. he laughs softly when you gasp, his other hand trailing up your side, fingers brushing the thin fabric of your top.

“wonwoo, you can’t just—” your words cut off as he cups your tit, thumb running over your nipple through your shirt, the sensation making your knees go weak. it’s so subtle, but you feel everything—his breath on your neck, the rough texture of his palm, the way his body presses against yours like he can’t stand the distance anymore.

“what? can’t just what?” his voice is low, mocking, as he leans down, his lips inches from yours. “you’ve been staring at me like that for years, y/n. you think i didn’t notice?”

your brain short-circuits as he presses his mouth to yours, starting slow, teasing, like he’s waiting for you to snap. and when you kiss him back—hard, desperate, craving more—he groans against your lips, his tongue immediately slipping past them. he sucks on your tongue like he’s savoring the taste, his hand squeezing your ass, pulling you closer as you try to remember how to breathe. it’s wet, sloppy, and so fucking messy, the sound of your lips meeting, tongues sliding against each other, filling the small kitchen.

you moan into his mouth, gripping his shirt, trying to keep up with the way he devours you, his other hand now fully under your shirt, palming your bare tit. it’s so much—too much, and you arch into his touch, losing yourself in the heat of it all.

and then you hear it.

keys, fumbling at the front door. shit.

you push him away so fast he stumbles back, eyes wide, lips shiny and swollen from your kiss. his fingers are still brushing his bottom lip, eyes flicking to the door in disbelief as the knob turns.

“fuck,” you whisper, trying to catch your breath, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, but you can’t stop shaking. you dart back to the sink, pretending to scrub some nonexistent spot, heart racing a mile a minute.

the door flies open, and your best friend bursts in, barely even noticing the two of you. “i forgot this fucking book,” she mutters, rummaging through her stuff on the couch. her back is to you both, and wonwoo’s standing there, hands in his pockets, trying his best to look casual.

he smirks at you, and you glare back, your mind racing, heart pounding. does she know? she can’t know.

“you two good?” she asks, barely glancing your way as she grabs her stuff. “i’ll be back in like, fifteen minutes. sorry. tutor’s gonna kill me if i don’t bring this. see you in a sec.” and just like that, she’s gone again, the door slamming shut behind her.

the second the door clicks, wonwoo bursts out laughing, dragging a hand through his hair, and your face is burning.

“did you just shove me away?” he teases, stepping closer again, his hands now resting on the counter behind you, trapping you. “scared of getting caught, huh?”

you shove at his chest, but you’re laughing too. “you’re insane. she could’ve seen us, you idiot.”

“what, and ruin the fun?” he grins, biting his bottom lip, and your stomach flips at the sight. “you should’ve just let her. i think she’d approve.”

you roll your eyes, but before you can say anything else, his mouth is on yours again—rougher this time, more desperate. it’s like he’s making up for lost time, kissing you like you’re the only thing he’s ever wanted, hands roaming over your body like he’s been dying to touch you. you’re pressed back against the counter, trapped between him and the hard surface, and it feels so fucking good.

“wonwoo, the couch,” you murmur between kisses, pushing at his chest just enough to make him move. he gets the hint, pulling you toward the couch, his hand never leaving your waist, never giving you a chance to breathe.

the second your back hits the cushions, he’s on you again, kissing you so hard it leaves you dizzy, his hands wandering everywhere—your thighs, your waist, your tits. he’s fucking everywhere, and you can’t think, can’t breathe, all you can feel is him, everywhere.

his fingers slide under the waistband of your shorts, teasing the edge, but you grab his wrist, pulling him back. “not yet,” you whisper, eyes locked on his. “let me…”

you trail off, sliding off the couch, sinking to your knees between his legs. wonwoo’s eyes widen, the teasing smirk on his face replaced with pure shock. “wait—”

“shh,” you murmur, already tugging at his belt, pulling his jeans down just enough to free him. your mouth waters at the sight of him, long, hard and already dripping. you can’t help but smirk up at him before leaning in, taking him into your mouth in all in once, in the most greedy way.

wonwoo groans, his head falling back against the couch, his fingers threading through your hair as you start to move. you take him like your favorite popsicle, hollowing your cheeks, loving the way his hips buck up into your mouth, the way he can’t control the sounds he’s making.

he pants, his voice strained, and it only spurs you on, sucking harder, swirling your tongue around the tip before taking him all the way down again. the sound of your mouth, wet and sloppy, fills the room, and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever heard.

he tightens his grip in your hair, guiding you as he thrusts into your mouth, his eyes squeezing shut as he moans your name again, louder this time. you can feel him getting close, his thrusts making you gag slighty, his hips jerking up more urgently.

“fuck, i’m—” he chokes out, but before he can finish, his hips stutter, and he comes with a loud groan, spilling into your mouth. you swallow every drop, not slowing down until he’s completely spent.

you pull back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, grinning up at him.

his hand wraps around your wrist, pulling you back on his lap. “c’mere,” he mutters. and before you know it, his lips are on yours again, urgent, like he needs to taste you all over again. the mix of your spit and his cum lingers, and when his tongue swipes along the side of your mouth, to catch more of the taste of him.

his hands slide down to your shorts, fingers curling around the waistband like they’ve been itching to take them off from the second he walked in. you flinch when he pulls them off, showing your panties. his fingers brush against it, and then pulling to the side, and you’re already losing it, but then he spits.

right on your pussy.

you tense when two fingers slide inside you rough, curling just the way you like—coincidentally. you clench around him, moaning, but it’s not enough. you need more, and he knows it.

“so fucking wet for me,” he groans, his other hand pushing your legs open wider. “you’ve wanted this for how long, huh? wanted me to fuck you like this?”

you can’t even answer, your brain is mush, overwhelmed by the way his fingers pump in and out of you, quick and dirty, making you arch into his touch. and then—without warning—he pulls his fingers out and lines himself up, slipping inside you so easily, you gasp.

he’s still sensitive, you can tell by the way his breath catches, how his hips jerk forward a little too fast, but the way his dick stretches you out? it’s perfect. too perfect. your eyes roll back, a shaky moan leaving your lips as he starts thrusting, slow at first, like he’s trying to control himself, but that doesn’t last long.

you’re in his lap, legs spread, every little reaction of his face right there in front of you—the way his eyes squeeze shut, his mouth falling open, all the little groans and curses spilling from him as he fucks into you. it’s like he can’t hold back anymore, can’t resist, but still needs to fuck you, to please you.

he lays you, grabs your knees, pulls them up to your chest, bending you in half so he can get even deeper. the angle’s brutal, his cock hitting that sweet spot with every rough thrust, and the room’s filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin, his low grunts, your breathless moans.

you’re a wreck under him, fingers clutching at the couch cushions, barely able to keep up with the way he’s pounding into you. his thrusts are rough, fast, almost desperate, like he’s chasing something he can’t quite reach, and every time he slams into you, your whole body shakes.

“wonwoo—fuck, i’m—” you try to warn him, but the words don’t come out right. everything’s too much—the way his hands hold you down, the way he’s fucking you so deep, the pressure building low in your belly until you’re falling apart. you clench around him, your orgasm ripping through you hard, your back arching off the couch as you moan his name.

he watches you, watching that smile on your face, that one that you have when you win a prize, how satisfied you look by being fucked—especially by him, how your eyes roll in ecstasy, nd how you spasm around his cock. is enough for him.

and then it’s over. you’re both panting, bodies spent. he pulls out slowly, leaving you feeling empty. you’re barely conscious as he reaches over, grabbing the nearest blanket and draping it over you, his touch surprisingly gentle for how hard he just fucked you.

“don’t move,” he mutters, smirking at you as he gets up, still zipping up his jeans. “you look good like this.”

you’re too tired to respond, sinking deeper into the couch, eyes half-closed. the door opens again—shit—and your best friend barges in, completely unaware of what just happened.

“ugh finally,” she mutters, tossing it onto the table. “you two good?”

he just grins, wiping his bottom lip with his thumb as he leans against the counter, casual as hell. “just keeping y/n company, we were waiting for you” he says, winking at you when your best friend isn’t looking.

you’re still sprawled out on the couch, barely able to move, trying to act normal, like you weren’t just fucked within an inch of your life, like you weren't just fucked with jeon wonwoo. your best friend glances between the two of you, raising an eyebrow, but she doesn’t seem to notice the way you’re completely knocked out.

“whatever,” she mutters, grabbing her stuff. “i’m going to take a bath.”

the door of the bathroom slams shut, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. wonwoo walks back over to you, chuckling softly as he sits down beside you, leaning in to kiss your forehead, the teasing smirk never leaving his face.

“you should’ve seen your face when she walked in,” he murmurs, his voice low. “but don’t worry. you looked so innocent.”

[introloves]

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐘𝐖𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓

“allowed” is not a word toji is familiar with. hardly listening to those he has an inkling of respect for- he’s now barely tolerating a “hands off” rule implemented by his coach and you.

boxer! toji + dom! toji + man handling + orgasm denial (m! receiving) + pet names (angel, sweetheart, angel face) + rough sex + toji is a mean, evil man + toji mocks you + mating press + messy sex + reuniting sex + cream pie + overstimulation + size kink + humilation + teasing during sex + praise + f! reader

— word count; approx 6k

there had always been one rule to your relationship with toji when his season was in play. dynamics changing just a bit, because the one rule wasn’t imposed by him; but by coaches- his team advising the best course of action to ensure that he would come out victorious season after season.

and that was; absolutely, under no circumstance- was toji allowed to cum.

you could remember the first time that rule was introduced, naive and innocent to the world of this sport. mouth popping open in surprise when his coach stepped next to you, having decided to join toji on one of his practice sparrings for the first time.

the line of questioning felt odd, wondering why his coach looked over at you with a known smile- like he knew what was going to be said would spark some surprise.

“he’s a beast, huh.” spoken while looking at you from the side of his eye- watching while you squeezed both hands together, trying to calm the uneven thumping in your chest when every heavy swing was directed towards your man.

“mhm.” you nodded, lip hurting from the way your teeth dug in nervously, trying hard to keep your focus on the older man standing next to you while staring at toji.

“i wouldn't worry too much, sweetheart.” he assured, speaking up to let the men know it was a good time to take a break. toji looking over past the ropes at you two with interest, hooking heavy arms against the cords to rest for just a bit, sweat clinging onto the black tee he chose to wear during practice. throwing his coach a pointed look with an arched eyebrow- zeroing in on your sweet face, sending you a wink.

stomach flipping with the cocky attitude that emanated from him in waves, now more with the fact that an angel had their eyes on him.

“you two remind me of when i was younger.” the man chuckled. throwing a rag over his shoulder and turning to face you dead on. “in love, yeah? i can see it.” he mumbled, trying to find the right wording.

“passions high, things get… intense real easy, right?” the coach spoke, after seconds of looking pained by just forming the words leaving his mouth.

finally breaking over the focus you had on your boyfriend- trying to keep the burn down from the way he chose to throw compliments at you, whistles and pet names- even during his precious breaks. your eyes looked at the man next to you, crossing your arms in confusion and interest at what he was telling you.

“yeah?” you answer, inquisitive, trying to find what you had missed to be asked this.

“well, with the season starting- i gotta advise you two to… take a step back. i'm sure he hasn’t told you that there’s absolutely no sex before his matches, right?”

a singular squeak left you, pinching your lips together- the curious stance slowly turning into crossed arms and a burning face. looking over at toji briefly, glancing at his pumped biceps, the sweat trickling down his neck, and the kisses he was blowing you before swinging his head back and laughing into the gym knowing what was being spoken about given your shocked expression. you wanted to strangle him, preferred if this came from your loving boyfriend's mouth, rather than a man old enough to be your grandfather.

“no. he didn’t tell me.” you almost whined, trying to keep composure in the face of the only man toji took any sort of direction from.

he could only shrug.

“it's a conversation you and the boy need to have, take him home- sweets.” the man said, stepping up into the ring and calling over the other man sparring against toji, giving you an opening to snatch your boyfriend away.

“toji.” you whine, walking over to his corner- stepping over the rags and bottles littering the ringside, trying to keep your pout down to a half hearted smile while you looked up at him.

“yeah, angel?” he hummed, crouching down to try and steal kisses from you- quickly discarding the gloves in a messy heap against the ring floor. hands reaching down to cup your face closer to him the best he could with the wraps still on him. tongue eagerly licking against your teeth, biting down on the swell of your lower lip- nearly growling into every push. only discouraged from showing everyone in this gym who you belonged to when you choked out a small noise- embarrassment and heat mixing into a haze that felt heavy in your chest.

letting you go with a final suck of your lower lip, letting his tongue lick at his own- smiling proudly at the dazed look on your face. eyes lidded, face lax and swollen lips glossy.

“coach said we could leave.” you finally muttered out, stepping back with your arms crossed over your chest ‘cause you were foolish enough to let him get close and now you would have to suffer even more than you already were with the rule lingering at the forefront of your mind.

“yeah? i could still go a couple rounds...” toji murmured, looking back at his team- knowing what all this about. sending a frown at his coach, only to be dismissed with a wave.

“mmm, you don't wanna go home with me?” you wondered, sweetening your words- smiling when he huffed and nodded like there was ever going to be anything else he wanted more.

letting him off the hook for the time being for not telling you what was to come… or not to come and for god knows how long.

beginning the routine of putting his wraps away, grabbing a random rag and using that to freshen himself off a little for you- even though you liked him sweaty.

bruised hands, swollen and a little too hot- big and sturdy finding your own when he was finally done. taking you proudly through the front of the gym, like a pretty little trophy that he won all on his own.

and when the two of you were alone, happy enough to bask in his attention- laying pretty before him now that he had showered and changed into nothing but gray sweatpants that were held up by his hand while he walked towards you, peering down at you like he wanted something. eyes widening before you snapped them back up to his face when you saw the unmistakable twitch of his cock hanging heavy between his thighs.

it was almost too hard to cross your legs at your ankles- shaking your head between giggles that crawled up your throat. watching how he bent his body down over you, pressing your hand between his tits; remembering the words his own coach gave him.

“nuh uh, you gotta stay away- boss’s orders.” you murmured between trying to press your legs up between the two of you, back pressed down onto the bed while he grabbed at your ankle and tugged it up against his waist like it obviously belonged there.

toji scoffed, rolling his eyes- hot hands softened only a bit by the shower, rolling up your thigh. fingertips squeezing so hard it made you squirm.

you knew he hated the thought of being denied you, of being told what to do. but this came with the job, and you knew he couldn’t… you two, couldn’t afford to lose any matches. not like he could anyways, but still, you knew if he got too excited beforehand- he wouldn’t be able to put you down and from what you’ve read, it weakened them- men and those in his profession.

“sweetheart.” he mumbled right back when you finally squeezed your foot up against the middle of his chest and pushed, setting him back on his haunches before you. hands coming up to hide from him- not the smartest move on your end because in seconds he had crawled back up; this time using just a sliver of his freakish strength to set any effort aside. letting you know with the previous attempts- he had let you move him.

“nuh uh,” he mimicked right back, “if you’re not gonna let me touch- at least let me see you, angel baby.” toji breathed, pressing his scarred lips to the same hand he had pried from your face, breathing down onto it before dropping it. the weight of him pushing aside any offending limbs to curl down; lips hungry for any taste he could get.

passing them down over your throat and right above the swell of your chest- a kiss so tender it was nearly uncharacteristic of him; like he was apologizing to your body for not doing more.

“your loss.” he groaned before rolling off of you when your hands reached up for him- scorning you like it had been your decision; leaving you gasping and whining.

turning to fight with him before the sight of his hardened cock- straining against the gray sweatpants he had chosen to wear, stopped you. his gaze pinned to the ceiling instead of you, head cushioned by his hands. biceps curling and flexing like he was trying not to move.

shutting down any feeling of anger- seeing now, how much it weighed on him too.

easier to turn around- laying on your side away from him, face hot against your hand; a pout so deep it nearly hurt painted on your face. stomach dropping like it was all your fault- already lamenting about the complications of this.

all before toji slithered a hand against your side, bringing you right to him with no effort. cradling your body to his own, acting like his dick wasn't slotted between the two of you, groaning at the contact but taking no other action.

“this is going to be hell, ain’t it.” he wondered, nose finding purchase along the path he had pressed kisses to just seconds ago. like a dog licking a wound.

“mhm, ‘specially cause you think with your stupid dick.” you murmured- halfway giggling when you grabbed at his hand squeezing against your side rhythmically, bringing it up to hug; your own lips pressing soft passes over bruised skin.

feeling the hot breath of a sigh tickle down your back, trying to keep things light even when the sweetness you both approached each other with was charged.

“actin’ like you don't like it, princess.” toji smiled, teeth bared while a smile played on a face you couldn’t see. wrapping his arms around you further- a pass of his tongue up the nape of your neck causing the frantic wiggling of your body, whining when he didn’t let go.

“how long ‘til the match?” he wondered, speaking above your still kicking body in between barks of his own laughter when you couldn’t budge a singular inch off his hold.

sighing- rolling your eyes when you finally ceded, goosebumps crawling up your back; you went limp and sighed.

“two weeks.”

the next sound was that of a giggle from you when he let out a rather loud note of pure agony- something not like him at all; before scooping you into his arms, like he was trying to absorb your very being into his own, not noticing or saying a thing when the full weight of you nestled right on top his still throbbing cock.

and just to his dismay- the two weeks seemed to drag on. he wasn’t used to being denied your body, futile attempts to just sink the tip inside of you rejected night after night; even amidst the promises that,

“angel face- i swear it’ll be just the tip, won’t even cum, i swear it.” and maybe that would mean something if it was coming out of the mouth of anyone that wasn’t toji zenin.

having gone weirdly sweet when around you, especially after hours of sparring matches- pressing his face too hard into the curve of your neck. or feigning innocence when hands that always seemed to wander crept too close to the apex of your thighs.

his pout, ever prominent when you finally caught on and shifted away from him, trying to keep space so this exact thing didn’t happen. knocking blows to your own conviction, because it was so odd to see him beg and sulk- your man who always stood so tall, unwavering- and a bit mean at times, reduced to trying a compromise because he missed your cunt so bad.

but with the tension building- there was something like a secret being swapped between the two of you. a secret promise that every day would pass faster than the last- and before you two knew it; he was fighting.

the glory of it never waned, sitting ringside in your promised seat in his corner didn’t lose its weight. hands pressed into balls on top of your thighs while the cheering all melted together into one continuous roar.

the ringside walk took too long, but the actual fight itself didn’t. your eyes never leaving off of his form, the twinkling of overhead lights glittering off fractured drops of sweat while he moved about.

all show; knowing if he got close the fight would be as good as over. your own fingers pinched together while you watched, fingernails digging crescent moons into the soft part of your hands- holding your breath while he finally circled in, stepping close and letting just one fist swing upwards to the tired opponent. his coach sat next to you leaned in to congratulate you- as if you were the one who won before the man even fell down onto the vinyl.

acting like this was a dance between the two would have done a disservice to toji, he was dancing; the other man looked like he had been running for his life since he stopped foot inside the ring. your head coming forward to rest against your knees at the sound of the bell- signaling the fight was over.

standing with tears hanging heavy against your lashes while they toted toji about; the veins prominent on his curling biceps with every shake of his gloved fist- showing everyone who’s winning hands they belonged to. something like a smile and smirk playing on his lips when he looked down at you. a promise shared while everyone else was celebrating him.

holding breath after breath in your chest following a small reminder to breathe with every intake; he was yours, but the glory of having a man so hailed and adored by people never ceased.

step after step taking you to the locker room, standing still- nearly biting your fingers with unnecessary anxiety while waiting for him in the room powered by fluorescent lights.

waiting on him while others who wanted just a sliver of attention circled like sharks to fresh meat all the way to the same spot you stood.

too in your head to feel the warmed hands reaching for your upper arm, blinking away the haze and looking at him.

feet awkwardly moving from their previous perch on the solid floor, nearly tripping on the porcelain; exclaiming out something that sounded like his name, trying to remind him to treat you with more care, fragile in hands that still had adrenaline pumping through his very being.

but just like it was difficult for you to keep yourself from dissolving into a bundled mess of nerves, it was hard on him to not act on the all consuming lust growing with each passing second, bypassing any necessary interviews or just plain praise spat in his direction- he had you. it was all he was going to need for tonight.

driven by the single thought, he didn’t stop until you were pressed down into the corner where he had shoved his bag and clothes toji had walked in here with; sweats and a too tight black shirt. hands braced against either side of the metal locker; caging you in, already dizzy with the smell of sweat and a metallic twist.

eye’s wandering down to his body at the thought that this could be his blood.

“whose blood?” you questioned, trying to keep lucid- even while pinned back against the wall, hands roaming down swollen muscles. veins thrumming with heat after taking the ring.

smelling nothing but him and a sickly metallic tang that flipped your stomach over- trying to keep your hands innocent when all you wanted to do was dig in and pull him into you.

damn the eyes still pinned to his back, even while his body crowded yours. no one would look at you if he had any saying in it, and with the adrenaline still coursing through him- he had half the mind to grab your legs and hitch them over his shoulder just to prove a point.

“the other guy’s. but you knew that.” toji stated and it was true; but there was still a part of you searching to make sure none of it was his. even words heavy with discontent- not with you, never, but with the fact that he wanted you and couldn’t do anything about it. not yet.

you nodded, tears already dotting your lash line with how long it had been since you had him, and now all that was left was to wait just a little bit.

“take me home, toji.” you whine, shaky hands leaving a trail of clean skin over the blood splattered on him before wrapping your fingers into his wet hair- tugging on the strands eagerly. lips brushing over the curve of his jaw, breathing down onto his chest. tasting something like sweat and blood, nose scrunching at the thought that he was marred in any capacity. but you knew it wasn’t his, any scrape was miniscule- bruised stomach and side, the areas where his opponent briefly made contact would be gone by tomorrow.

“ah, fuck.” toji groaned, looking up at the lights of the locker room- stomach tensing with pool of lust simmering in his stomach, knowing he would have to calm down, if only a little, if they were ever going to make it out of there.

and when he felt like he could breathe once more, when the tight coil of pure arousal waned enough for him to gulp down lungfuls of air- toji took you home.

stopping for just seconds to grab his check and eagerly pulling you behind him, catching glances of you while he turned around. spoiled and greedy with the sight of you giggling at how eager he was, making you feel just that more special.

it felt like an eternity before you were tugged over the threshold, hands reaching for you before the door closed. body arching down to meet your pouty lips- hungry for you like he's never been before.

denied of you for what was too long- it all came to a halt.

cock pressed against the material of flimsy sweatpants, it begged to have you. pulling away for seconds to actually breathe, toji reached down to pinch your face, tilting your gaze up at him. watching you blink away tears and fit tiny fingers into the space of his palm and your chin, wanting to stop with all the pretense, the wait- the swelling of want.

“toji.” you whined, lips puckering against the dimpling of your cheeks thanks to his fingers still pressing in.

acting like he was mad at you for not giving in, like all of this was your fault- eyes watching to see the simmering lust he had grappled with for nights, and days between when it had been allowed.

the singular word leaving a sour note on his tongue- “allowed”. he was toji zenin- ‘allowed’ was a word that had never pertained to him, and it never would be.

leaning in to grab at you again, like a doll he could have his way with. the sweetest reward for waiting, digging in with extra force with that simmering anger that was flipping back and forth from his stomach to chest, a slip of just how strong he was.

knew it was hard on you too- could feel it late at night when you thought he was asleep to helplessly stick fingers inside, too spoiled and used to what he gave that it wasn’t enough. let you think he was asleep because when you tried and ultimately failed- it did something to him.

hearing you try to stifle whines, hide from him by curling into a ball right next to his heated body. attending to yourself in a hopeless attempt and knowing nothing could compare to him.

his lips peeled back into something that resembled a smile, black tresses of his hair stuck onto his forehead and tickling your own when he leaned in and kissed you.

tongue hot, and strong- it licked inside your mouth, swirled along the sides of your teeth, and stopped right in front of your lips.

caught between breathing and holding it in your burning lungs, treated like a victim of his- the unbridled strength he carried resting just beneath the surface.

you couldn’t tell if you were scared, it felt like it, but there was also a tinge of lust playing right next to it. but you just blinked through that tight grip of panic; it was okay to be scared sometimes, scary felt good with him.

a singular whine escaping between the captured air- bringing down that smile of his once more.

but it was softer, no longer tinged with that seething warmth.

toji blinked, and actually looked down at you- eyes focusing on different parts of what was right in front of him, lips pouty and painted glossy with his spit- fingers still dimpling the fat of your face, your own digits wrapped around his thick wrist in a feeble attempt to pry his hand off.

“cute.”

it felt mocking, like he could laugh at you any second for getting off on how he was treating you; it was so tempting to bite back that it was the same with him, he was getting off on humiliating you like this- holding you open to gaze down at the very chords of your being.

but you didn’t, you were *good* and toji knew that too- it’s why it was so easy to shift the hold of your face down to either side of your neck; fingers pressing into the thrumming veins settled right there. easy to let go once satiating the need to make it hurt, bringing his arms down to where your ass meets your legs to tug you up. letting you wrap your arms around his neck- dependable and strong enough to carry you with ease, trying not to bump into the edges of things while he looked up at you. taking seconds from this moment to simply press his face to the center of your chest, kissing you like you’d even feel it given the clothes keeping you away from him.

your own fingers moving from their hold to ensure you wouldn’t fall to the stray strands of hair littering the nape of his neck. liking the fact that it was getting longer- there was just something about his long black hair you found comfort in; liked it when he was wound down enough to let you run your hands through it- softening the edges of his being with your love.

thoughts of how sweet he was to you, and only you, interrupted when he finally made it into your shared space. unceremoniously dumping you down onto the bed like he wasn’t just adoringly looking up at you, knees dipping down against where your legs folded into your waist; dipping you down with how heavy and big he was. making a show in how slow he was to place his palms against either side of your face.

every movement calculated, like he was waiting for you to comment on the slow pace he’s chosen to take, and just like he thought. it didn't take long to look up at him, pout already forming on your lips.

“toji.” his name whined and already breathy, hands searching for anything that would tug him back up to you. needing him so much it hurt, the singular chord of need seemingly moving any limbs for a chance to entice him further. like he wasn't also panting and wanting.

dizzy when you looked away from his lidded eyes for just a second to see his sweats hanging lower than they had been seconds ago- the imprint of him heavy and low. eyes rolling to the back of your head with the wet lust pooling between your legs.

trying so hard to keep your body from squeezing down onto nothing, stomach clenching in its stead.

“toji.” named whined again, like he didn’t hear you the first time.

“talk to me.” you whimpered, trying to keep a creeping panic down. trying to worm itself up from the odd coil of lust mixed in- seeing him look down at you. jaw set and hands shaking; palms warm and rough against the round skin on the fat of your face. thumbs tracing the start of your hairline over and over- trying not to vocally grunt when the twitch of his cock was so forceful it knocked air from him.

he could only laugh, bringing the pads of his thumb down to swipe under your eyes.

“what do you want me to say, angel?” toji questioned, distracting you with the answer he knew you wanted.

too spoiled and needy, knowing you we’re nothing but a creature of want bundled up with a pretty bow and pleading eyes.

“want me to tell you how much i want you?” toji asked, bringing both hands- finally latching onto the waistband of your bottoms before tugging without restraint of his strength.

pulling you down with the force a good inch before leaning down and placing a kiss to your forehead.

“want me to tell you how i heard you touch that dangerous little cunt, every night? right next to me?” he hissed, remembering it all. tipping over the swirl of emotions settled deep into the pit of his stomach. brought forth with the adrenaline slowly waning, replaced by want.

a hand slipping between both of your bodies to cup at the heat he was just speaking on. pulling fingers away saturated in slick, smiling something sick before pressing his fingers to his lips.

canines glistening against the low light, prying out another uncontrolled spasm- hips jutting off the bed to plead better than any words you could stupidly come up with.

wet mouth coming down, those same teeth catching the soft skin under your ear, bucking once more- hips caught down with those hands of his. waiting for you to notice the heaviness of his cock, freed from any confines, painting lines of lust across the apex of your thighs.

“too sweet.” toji whispered, uncharacteristically, once more. teetering you over that small and tiny space he seemed to shove you in a moment's notice. nose tipping up to breathe, to catch any sort of lucidity you still held.

excitement pumping through your veins with every throbbing push of hot blood, you could see your heart beat now. could feel the swollen and equally hot cock head poke against your swollen little clit, nothing but jolts wrecking through your body with every passing second *he* was making you wait.

and toji was a sick, twisted man- letting you look at him and start another plea before finally pressing himself inside. physically feeling the contraction of your pussy before you relaxed, tears dotting your lashes. swallowing down his name with a cry when his swollen head popped inside, head pressed back into the bed to cry out nothing but his name over and over.

too dizzy to notice the way he picked up your limp legs, hooking them over the curve of his arms before coming back to you. trapping you, keeping you bundled up and tiny.

viscous, teeth gnawing against one another- toji groaned. adrenaline waning, dizzy in his own right, body strung up with nothing but physical strength.

thankful for his own power because the cunt squeezing around his cock so tight- he had to fight to fit inside seemed to sap any better judgment or mental fortitude.

“come on angel- your turn. you talk.” toji nearly bickered, trying to bring the focus back in your eyes. and since he was a sick, and mean man- he enjoyed seeing your face scrunch up, sucking in little breath after little, hiccuped breath.

knocking that focus clear off your face with pistoning thrusts so hard, the jolt itself tempered him through the thick fog of lust and pleasure. barking out something akin to a laugh and groan watching you shake your head and squish your nose up something cute.

how was he ever supposed to stop? how could he ask to keep his hands off you, when you received him so well- even now, while he bullied his cock into your already battered pussy all you did was shake your head back and forth and plead for him to give you more.

hands gripping onto the curve of muscle settled on top his bicep, anchoring yourself to the very thing knocking the wind and thoughts out of your body. feeling the push of your muscles against his hold on you, acting like you were-

oh.

toji has to bite down, gnash his teeth and breathe heavy tufts of air out of his nose to keep himself at least somewhat grounded. watching you twitch weakly, feeling you spray his wiry hair, and coat the sliver of cock that doesn’t fit inside of you with cum. hitching your legs further into the cradle of his arms while he fucks and fucks into you over and over.

“fuck.” the singular word spit out through his gritted teeth, balking with the fact that you came so easy. finding it unfair that you were so sensitive, you who was allowed to touch yourself. who was allowed the little moments of reprieve even if it might not have been with him.

he would have swallowed his pride for the time being, letting you do what you needed to get off.

but since toji is such a nasty, vile man. he knows that’s not true.

lips curling to smile down at you, like you did such a good job for him- making a show of grabbing the back of your knees, and pressing them further down onto the bed.

his eyes pinning yours down, like a wild animal sizing up their prey before pouncing. daring you to look away, wanting you to be the one who pushed through the hazy fog of burning overstimulation.

“that’s it.” he praises, despite what he’s putting you through, unrelenting thrusts, keeping you down small and unmoving underneath him he sees the way you’re slipping in deep. sharp smacks of his balls battering the curve of your ass that has been lifted an inch off the bed the only thing heard, apart from the sharp trills of your cries.

“please, please!” you cry, over and over- too dizzy to even pick your head back up, letting it roll to the side when he comes in close once more. tongue laving at the curve of your cheek, a simple gesture of comfort.

“my good girl. please what?” he asks, the vibration of his words reverberating against your clammy skin.

and toji never expects an answer, this is good enough- you do well enough in your own right to keep somewhat lucid while his thick cock throbs with every push inside.

it feels like an uphill battle from him too, watching every orgasm overtake your body- slowly eating away at the unshakable control he has over his own figure.

wonders why, after everything he’s done bad in his life, is he able to have a little piece of nirvana right here.

toji is gluttonous anyways, has always wanted more than what was offered- from you too. grits his teeth down so hard, even through the haze you can see the vein working its way down his thick neck.

holding off just for one more, one more orgasm from you, pretty little thing.

coaxes it out of you with those snapping hips- thick cock noisily sliding in and out of you with no remorse for the integrity of your walls. battering you into something soft and malleable, shaping the figure of his cock into your tummy.

you cum again, weak- sensitive. barely able to distinguish what hurts and what doesn’t, whole body shuddering in the midst of his strong hold. squeezing around him, beckoning him closer and closer.

in the end it’s worth it, letting yourself get used by him to watch the way he tips his head back- looking at the ceiling of your room before tremors wrack his own body. lips open while he pants out the singular-

“fuck! fuck-“ over and over, sealing himself against you with one last thrust. digging in as much as he can to make sure you take it all- make sure his cum is well received inside of the same walls still trying to push out his unrelenting cock.

and you feel so full, warm and shaky while toji slowly gains his own bearings- having gone limp long ago, waiting for him to come back to you. shivering with every weak throb his cock gives you, like he’s trying to push out every last bit of cum he has for you. the heat simmering low in your very being.

“pretty thing.” toji finally breathes- relieved. whatever pent up energy left now forming into nothing but pure adoration for you. something he had never felt before. coming to him as naturally as all the other mean, vile, nasty tendencies he has.

letting you whine like a little puppy while he lets your legs fall back onto the bed. kissing you, teeth nipping at the curve of your tear stained cheek- lowly chuckling with how shaky hands reach for him. wondering if you know how ironic it is to be begging for the very being responsible for making a mess of you.

“toji.” it’s sweet, called out in a way he’s not used to hearing his name in.

“yeah angel, ‘m here.” he huffs, feigning like there’s effort in bringing himself down to hold you. strong arms used in a manner foreign to their creation- wrapping you up against him.

“you did good, cunt missed me that much?” he wonders out loud, catching a glance at the pool of cum trailing down the middle of your thighs. letting both of you lay in the messiness of it all- too indulgent to clean it off.

watching you nod, eyes heavy- bleary. fucked out like an angel created for just this. his own breathing ragged with the singular pout, feeling your hands grab as if he’d leave.

wonders how the fuck he’d ever get through next season, and the season after that. knowing temptation itself holds its form in the shape of you, right here with him.

toji kisses you- trying to make you the singular thought in his mind. letting you rest before he puts you through it again and again, a creature of indulgence in his own right.

knowing he wants it all; victory and your very being. wonders how you drift off so easy with a man like him looking over you.