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flickeringflame216 · 3 months ago
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"I will burn down the world to make my way to you"
"I know"
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jesushatesmyguts · 2 months ago
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Why do I feel like SHIT again, I swear to god there's nothing more annoying than my brain
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misfit-megumi · 2 years ago
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WAIT A SECOND I NEED SOME TIME TO COLLECT MY THOUGHTS BUT OH MY GOODNESS OH MY GOODNESS OH MY GOODNESS OH MY GOODNESS AAAAAAAAJJKKAKKSKSKSK
I ONLY READ THIS JUST NOW BUT OH MY GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHD
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a bit dirty - ch1
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in which you hook up with osamu in a club bathroom and that's just the beginning. ch1 | next (coming soon) [masterlist] (also coming soon)
// maybe a bad idea ~ ᴏsᴀᴍᴜ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ~ 6683 ᴡᴏʀᴅs
a look into this chapter: 18+ minors dni nsfw, cute flirting before, drinking but not drunk sex, unprotected sex (NO PREGNANCY TROPE I PROMISE I SWEAR FOREVER), thigh fucking, slight missed connection trope, names names names pet names a million pet names, minimal foreplay (unless you count flirting as foreplay), afab she/her pronouns
join my taglist here!! ~~ ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡
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you are completely aware that you should not be out right now.
but you are.
and you could chalk that up to your horribly persuasive friends and their constant nagging and pleading for you to tag along with them tonight or your distaste for saying no to people and disappointing them or even a mild fear of missing the played out events of a really great night in your head.
the truth is, it doesn't matter the reason that you’re out despite how kinda stupid it is. the fact is, you know that it’s a bad idea to be entering a club at 12am when the alarm in your pocket is set to 6am, but you’re doing it anyway. sure, you were lightly bullied and, sure, you keep offering deprecating and pity-me sentences about how you really shouldn’t be out, but you’re still there. you’re still out. 
you’re still hovering over a high-top table in the corner of the club a few steps from the bar screaming over loud music, “i told you guys that i didn’t really want to drink tonight.” yet, a drink is, indeed, thrusted into your hand. the glass bottle is cool against your palm, fingers smudging the condensation on the label as you hold it tight.
“if you don’t want it, i’ll drink it,” your friend offers, red jacket bunched around his wrist as he extends his hand towards you, palm shaped so the bottle would fit perfectly against it. you shake your head, bringing it to your lips, taking a sip, and then another, and then another. 
“this is such a bad idea, kuroo,” you drone, exhaling as you take another sip.
“yn,” kuroo says abruptly, one hand placed on your shoulder, fingers squeezing to call you to look at him, “we know.”
“do you want to go home?” akaashi asks, calling your bluff or genuinely concerned, you’re not completely sure. he turns to another member of your friend group for confirmation and a bit of support, “bo, should we just take her home?”
you stick your hand out in between them as if this would stop the conversation from progressing or any decisions from being made. you shake your head, “no. no, i don’t want to go home.”
“then maybe loosen up and act like it,” bokuto implores, hands on your shoulders, leaning his definitely not a tiny bit of weight against you, bouncing along with the beat of the song. 
“i just feel like if i keep saying it’s a bad idea,” you reason, narrowing your eyes as the sentences finishes in your head and you know that you’re going to get flamed when it actually comes out of your mouth, “that it makes up for the fact that i’m out because i feel bad for it?”
definitely not.
yeah, i don’t think so.
nice try.
bad logic, yn, really bad. 
you groan, “okay, okay. fine. actually having fun. because i’m out,” you point at akaashi and he nods back at you, “and so why not just enjoy it instead of making myself miserable for being out?”
“and us,” tsukishima notes, “don’t forget us. you’re also making us miserable.”
kuroo throws his arm around tsukishima, runs the tops of his knuckles over his hair as he laughs, “you’re always miserable. you don’t count.”
“tch, knock it off,” tsukishima swats at kuroo’s fist so violently that he almost falls over.
“yea,” you say in an attempt to convince yourself, “just have a fun time and don’t think about the fact that i should probably be on my way home right now.” 
akaashi bumps his shoulder into yours, the one that bokuto’s fingers are still tightly grasped around. “you know how to have fun, yn,” he reminds you, “laughing at those dumbasses is usually a good start.” akaashi nods towards tsukishima and kuroo trying, and failing, to contain their back and forth, bumping into the table and spilling bokuto’s drink. 
it is a good start, you suppose. you can’t help but laugh, actually, as they start yelling at each other, blame spewing and insults flown. “and then,” akaashi says, raising his eyebrows and gesturing to your drink. he raises his own, waits for you to do the same and then lightly taps the neck against yours. you raise the bottle to your lips, tilt it upwards, and don’t bring it back down until the only weight in your hand is the empty glass.
“c’mon, idiots, you owe bo a new drink,” akaashi shouts over the already loud club and added bickering, “and we need a refill also.”
they either don’t hear him or choose to ignore him. neither tsukishima nor kuroo even bat an eye to akaashi waving his hands to get their attention or the dramatic sigh that he forces. bokuto notices, though, nods to the bar as he says, “c’mon, we will go get new drinks. they won’t even notice we’re gone!”
your tiny nod is confirmation enough. bokuto grabs your wrist, gently pulls you through the mass amounts of people to the bar, moving through the crowd much easier than you would’ve on your own. sure, you could maneuver in and out of people, but bokuto could barrel right through them, polite enough to offer small sorrys and excuse mes, but assertive enough to keep moving the entire time. 
bokuto presses up against the counter, leans over the top to order whatever drinks he’s ordering, and then waits patiently while the bartender grabs said drinks. you stand next to him, akaashi on the other side of bo, a bit of space between you resting with your lower back on the edge of the countertop and the horde of people dancing in the vicinity. 
the bar is a bit of an oasis, somewhat more organized than the conglomerate of different groups that occupied the rest of the venue. there is a patience here that you don’t get in other parts of the club, a knowing restraint that you welcome like a breath of fresh air. you scan the length of the bar, the groups of people inhabiting the same space that you are for the same reason that you are and among them, a man with gray hair and a tight black t-shirt who keeps looking over in your direction. 
everytime you try to sneak a private glance, he’s already looking at you, eyes meeting yours for a fraction of a second before pretending that he was looking somewhere else. you’re suddenly feeling much warmer than before, perhaps it has something to do with the club lights or the large gathering of people or the way the two guys that are with him keep nudging him in your direction. 
“that guy keeps looking at you,” bokuto notes, pointing very blatantly at the man across the bar. “you should go talk to him.”
“no way!” you instantly reject the thought. 
akaashi leans forward, peeking out from the other side of bo. “step three of having a fun night out? getting railed by a mystery guy who keeps throwing you looks,” akaashi explains, head nodding, no inclination of sarcasm. 
“you said talk to him,” you say, glance thrown over your shoulder just in case he’s already gone. that would solve a lot of your inner turmoil right now. but when you do look, he’s looking right back. this time, he keeps eye contact with you for an entire second before pulling away.
“right, well, and then fuck him,” akaashi says, mischevious smile, shrugging his shoulders as if it were obvious.
“i don’t do that,” you explain. 
“you haven’t done that,” bokuto says, “there’s a difference.” 
“look, you’re out, you’re trying to have a good time, that hot fuckin’ guy is staring you down?” akaashi says, naming all of the reasons that he believes this is a great idea, “and the four of us are here if something is weird. this is the perfect opportunity.”
“no, no,” you shake your head, “besides, i’ve gotta finish this drink and tsukishima and kuroo are probably-”
bokuto taps his card against the machine as you babble on excuses and grabs the drinks from the counter in the middle of your sentence, handing one to akaashi and holding the other two. “oh nooo,” bokuto whines, “turns out these drinks are for me. better find someone else to buy you a drink.” he makes eye contact with akaashi, nods towards the direction of where you all came from and starts moving that way.
you move to follow them, but your feet don’t move, heart beating against your chest as your core tells you that if you hesitate for only a moment, they will be out of reach and it’ll actually be easier to just sit here at the bar. and if something were to happen while you were abandoned by your friends, if the buff looking tall guy a few feet down the bar decides to talk to you, then it wouldn’t be the worst thing to have ever happened to you. 
it’s not just that you don’t move, it’s that you make the very conscious choice not to move. you take a deep breath and check one more time that he’s still there, that he’s still looking at you, and he is. you let your stare linger this time, you have no other obligations or people to talk with. it’s you, all alone at this bar, waiting for one particularly attractive man to make his way over to you and talk to you, you might as well make it obvious. 
with him are two other guys, one that looks eerily like him but with brassy dyed hair and a louder personality and another one with a black mask on and dark, curly hair. the blonde one nods in your direction, pushes him with his shoulder once and then twice and then a third time. you think that this will cause a reaction, but it doesn’t. 
you’re almost ready to concede, make your way back to the high top and have a good night without going out of your comfort zone, but the other guy leans over and says something in his ear, points at you with his chin, and then pulls the blonde guy away and leaves the gray haired guy alone just like you. 
for someone who didn’t make his way over to you the first three times someone shoved him in your direction, it doesn’t take him long to walk over to you once he’s alone. you wonder if you’ll have to say something first, what will you say first, what should you say first?
“did your friends leave ya too?” he asks, and if you hadn’t downed your first drink and you weren’t as nervous as you were, you might’ve noticed how out of place he sounded as well. 
you laugh, offer a short nod as he takes place next to you, leaning against the bar the same way you are. you’re rooting through your brain to concoct an adequate response, one that will entice him to stay, continue a conversation, let him know that you’re very interested while also not telling him that outright, but all of that thinking is rendering you currently silent.
still, he tries again, asks something much easier, “can i buy ya a drink?” 
you nod again, turning towards him this time, but not before catching a glimpse of his profile, his chest, his forearms tense with his fingers gripping the edge of the counter. tonight was definitely not a mistake. you don’t care how early you have to be up tomorrow. “only if you stick around for a dance too,” you say, hand ghosting on said tense forearm, testing the waters, voice projecting so that you’re sure he hears you.
he laughs this time, gorgeously genuine smirk appearing along with it. “i don’t really dance,” he admits, “but to talk to ya a bit longer? i’d be stupid not to.” his eyes flicker down to your lips, the way your tongue peeks out for just a second and your teeth scrape against the bottom, and then back up to your eyes, wider than before but just as lust-stricken. 
he turns, flags down a bartender. on their way over to the two of you, he leans down, “what can i getcha?”
“i’m not picky,” you respond, “i’m pretty adventurous, actually. i like trying new things. i feel like you can learn a lot about someone from drinking their go-to drink.” you feel like you’re rambling, but he’s looking at you like you’re the cutest thing on earth. 
he leans over the bar, orders whatever he orders, and then quickly returns back to your side. “so what did you order?” you ask. “what will i be drinking?”
“spiced rum and coke,” he calls back, “what does that say about me?”
“hm?” you question, tilting your head.
“ya said that ya can learn a lot about someone from their go-to drink. what does that say about me?” he asks, smiling.
you purse your lips, mulling it over for a second. “i think it says that you like the classics, but with a more exciting twist,” you say back. “like-” 
he wraps his arm around your waist, cutting you off as he pulls you closer to him, moving you out of the way of some far too drunk couple that was knocked in your direction, drink sloshing right where you were just standing. “sorry,” he says, very slow to remove his hand from your waist, but you lean back into it. 
“don’t apologize,” you say, staying pressed up against his side. “practically saved my life,” you joke. “if the roles were reversed, you’d be drenched right now. i’m not that fast.” he raises his eyebrows at your sentence, but you don’t correct yourself, just avert his gaze and laugh at yourself. “did you have that all planned or?” you ask.
“nope,” he says, arm still around your waist as he pulls his card out of his pocket to pay. he hands you one of the drinks. “just the stars aligning or somethin.” 
the spice of the rum is nice, warming, a bit more flavorful, an unexpectedly fun twist to a classic. you smile up at him. “now you owe me a dance,” you say, nodding towards the dance floor full of people. 
he doesn’t hesitate, slides his hand down your side, digs his fingers into the fat of your hip, and nods in the same direction as you. “lead the way,” he says. he follows you as you weave through groups of friends and drunk couples until you find a somewhat less crowded corner. the music isn’t as loud here, a bit further away from the speakers and the action, but it feels perfect for the two of you. 
dancing is a generous word for what the two of you are doing. it starts more like swaying, his hand still on your hip, your hand now on his shoulder. you’re both still chained with mostly empty drinks in one hand, taking small sips here and there in between half-lidded eye contact and half-steps closer to the other. 
“is it bad that i want to get rid of this ridiculously over-charged drink so that i can put both of my hands on you?” he asks, leaning down to place his lips against your ear despite the fact that the music isn’t necessarily loud enough to warrant that. you shake your head, his lips brushing against the side of your cheek as you do, and then you let it fall onto his shoulder. 
you reach out, feel alone guiding you as you set your half-drank cup on a random table. you clasp your hands around his neck, allowing yourself to lean backwards to take him all in, pretty gray eyes, hungry look in the depths of them. you tangle your fingers into the hair at the base of his neck. you really want to kiss him.
the hand that just held his drink is colder, shocking almost as it smooths down your lower back, fingers hooking into the waistband of your skirt, toying with the fabric and the zipper on the side. now you really want to kiss him.
he’s staring directly into your eyes as his fingers ghost over the lace of your underwear. he doesn’t pull away at the feeling, doesn’t stutter or retreat or dive deeper, but pushes his fingers underneath the band, dull nails scraping against the soft skin of your hip. you really want to kiss him right now. 
he’s so focused on touching you, on teasing you, on watching your adorable expression as you try to keep yourself composed, that you decide to take matters into your own hands, pulling him down into you and pushing up into him, lips smashing against his, fingers threading into his hair. 
you talk in the same instances that you breathe, in between long, sloppy kisses and roaming touches. “i don’t normally do this,” you admit. “am i supposed to say that?” 
“i wouldn’t know,” he says back, out of breath before pressing a kiss into your lips again, speaking against them, “i don’t either.”
“looking like that?” you ask, just as out of breath as he is, “your hands confident as that? yea fuckin right.”
he pulls away for a real breath, chest rising and falling a bit heavier than usual, tongue swiping over his lip to swallow the spit you’ve left there. “honest,” he replies.
you shake your head. you still don’t necessarily believe him, “i suppose i don’t have to trust you to go fuck you in the bathroom.”
he tilts his head, a huge smile on his face now. “oh?” he questions, “is that how far this is goin? ya thinking that far out?”
you blush, instantly warm against his touch. “well, no, i- i didn’t mean-,” you stutter.
“i mean, i suppose it doesn’t have to be that far out,” he says, low, as he brings one hand up and places your chin between his fingers, demanding your eye contact. “it could be in the next thirty seconds if ya want.”
all you can do is nod, but that’s enough for him. he’s dragging you by the waist to the other corner of the club, nodding towards the only single-room, open bathroom and you nod even more dramatically, following him inside. 
he locks the door behind you and his hands are instantly back on your body, gripped around each of your hips, both pressing you against the door and holding you in place as you pull his face down into you harder. he slides his hands to your lower back, down your ass, pushing up your skirt so he can feel your soft skin directly on his large hands. 
he uses this grip to lift you, back sliding against the bathroom door as he pulls you closer to him. he doesn’t have to lean down as far to kiss you now, doesn’t have to worry about using his hands to press you into the door. your legs are wrapped around him, his hips pressed between them. 
he kisses down your neck. “do i get to know your name?” he asks into your collarbones.
“do you need to?” you ask, cheek against the top of his head. 
when he laughs, you can feel the vibrations dance across your chest, “guess not.” he licks a strip up your neck, grinding his hips against you, “what do you want me to call you tonight then?”
“something cute,” you offer. 
he laughs again, “alright, doll, i’ll get creative then.” he holds you tight, both hands on the undersides of your thighs as he moves you to the sink, sets you on the edge of the porcelain fixture. his hands move to the tops of your thighs, sliding up and up until the hem of your skirt is at the top of your hips, exposing the lacey panties he was toying with moments ago.
surprisingly, this weird grip that he has on the tops of your thighs is not doing a horrible job at keeping you up right, but the longer that he feels your skin, drags his nails against the fats of your thighs, nudges open your legs with his knee, the less his focus is on keeping you steady. your core is tight, engaged to not fall backwards into the faucet, but perched right on the edge. 
“fuck, you’re so pretty,” he murmurs against your neck, hooks both of his fingers into the waistband of your panties, pulls them down your thighs, over your knees, and lets them rest around your ankles and the fact that he’s being this mindful, doesn’t let your panties touch the gross bathroom floor, either means that he has, indeed, done this before or, the much worse option, he’s just that considerate and thoughtful.
he wraps one arm around your lower back, places one large hand on the inside of your thigh and slides it further between your legs until the tip of his thumb rubs against your already messy clit. you reach out on instinct, fingers wrapping around his forearm, eyes begging to stare into his, but he can’t pull away from the way that you’re teetering on the edge of the sink, thighs quivering to keep yourself upright as he begins to tease you, so you force it, slide your grip up his arm and shoulder and tilt his head to look you in the eyes and now he’s convinced he can’t ever pull away from this sight. 
your eyebrows are knit together but always moving, lip jutted out, chin tilted upwards, breathing already unsteady and he can feel the heat radiating from your entire body. he watches your jaw fall open as he drags the tips of two fingers between your puffy lips, circling the pads against your hole once before your tiny, but insistent nods convince him to push inside. your eyes close lazily and then open half-lidded, corners of your lip upturn into a blissful smile, and the prettiest hum leaves your throat as his fingers fill you.
with your position on the sink it’s not easy, but you move your hips forward the smallest bit. it barely pushes his fingers deeper, but the miniscule movements are better than nothing. he could give you everything you wanted right now, could curl his fingers and move so fast that his arm’ll be sore tomorrow, but there’ll be time for that in a second. right now, you’re whimpering so needy for him, soft walls clenching around two fingers, juices dripping into his palm and down to his wrist, a slow, sticky squelching louder than the music and chatter behind the closed door. 
“more?” you ask, quiet and sweet. you could’ve told him politely or demanded it, however you wanted to communicate your need would’ve been good enough for him, but you ask him so nicely and he knows exactly how the rest of the night will go, knows exactly what you need from him. 
“oh, sweetheart,” he says and the butterflies in your stomach are getting restless now. he nudges your legs open wider with his knee, steps in between them to get a better angle, chest against your shoulder as he starts fingering you faster, driving his two thick, long fingers deeper inside of you, curling as he pulls his arm back towards himself. “give ya anything ya want when ya ask that nicely.”
you can’t think of any other words, the only thing leaving your mouth over and over again is, “fuck fuck fuck” as he fucks you so pretty with his fingers. you’re so wet around him, so easy for his fingers to slip in and out of you and you’re having a hard time keeping your legs spread. if he weren’t standing between them, they’d be closed around his hand right now. it’s all so much. 
your forehead falls into his bicep, nodding against the muscle, fingers grip around the edge of the sink as you babble, “gonna come, please, gonna make me come.”
“then come, bunny,” he says, presses a soft kiss into your hair, and you’re gone. you listen to him so well, he can’t help but smile as he continues the motions, fingering you through your orgasm, walls fluttering around him, flooding even more. the grip on your waist gets tighter as you lose control, taking care of you as nearly every thought leaves your head. if he were any less in control, less thoughtful, you’d be on the floor right now. 
“and what do i call you?” you pant the second that you’re able to think again, hands not really sure where to root as they move from his chest to his shoulder to his forearm. 
“s’pose you might need something to call out when i wreck ya, huh?” he asks, kissing the side of your jaw because it’s the closest thing he can reach, thankful for your tiny recovery as he reaches down with one hand to undo his belt and jeans. 
fuck. you swallow harshly, not caring for even a second how much the effect of these words is showing on your face. this confidence might look tacky or awkward on somebody else, but his beaming genuine smile and equally as strong grip on your waist is driving you insane already and you know he’s not lying, he’s going to ruin you. you nod. 
“don’t matter to me, princess,” he says, smearing the juices on his fingers down the length of his cock, swirling around his tip, but you don’t dare look down, eyes on his as he finishes his sentence, “as long as it’s coming out of your pretty mouth, you can call me whatever you want.”
“and you say you haven’t done this before,” you breathe, voice very unsteady for how confident that sentence could’ve been.
“i really haven’t,” he shakes his head, leaning down to kiss you. “honest. just something about you that’s driving me crazy,” he says, wet fingers digging into your hip under your skirt, and for some dumb fucking reason you believe him, nodding stupid like he needed confirmation to a plain statement and you hope he understands that this means that you want him right now.
you press your forehead against his shoulder, catching only a glimpse of him lining himself up, finally having a scene to match the sensations as he drags his thick head between your sloppy lips, grids the underside against your clit, pushes the tip against your slightly stretched hole. 
“nuhhuh,” he says, picking your chin up, shaking his head, talking so soft that you accept it all as gospel, “look at me, dove. you can watch later, but right now, i need to see your pretty expression as i spear ya, okay?”
all you can do is nod, all you can say is, “okay.”
he smirks, kisses the side of your jaw so quickly before pulling away, eyes scanning every facial feature so he can notice the change in every single one, and then he pushes inside of you. the moan that rips from you is so loud that you’re convinced every person in the building can hear it. it breaks off at the end, so forceful that your vocal chords can’t support it, and you can’t see how entranced he’s looking at you because you can’t focus on anything.
you’re so fucking full. 
he’s pressed completely up against you, hips resting on the insides of your thighs, arm around your lower back to pull you into him, your chest against his, and his face is so close to yours, but not close enough that he can’t see how hard he’s already wrecking you just by being inside of you.
his hips pull back slowly. you can feel every inch leaving you and you’re already squirming at not being filled to the brim, circling your hips as best you can on the edge of the sink. he pushes forward again, harsher this time. your head falls against his shoulder and from this position, you can finally see it, the sheen of your slick on his cock as he pulls out and fucks back into you, how thick he is as he disappears inside of you. your walls clench around him at the sight, his hips stutter at the feeling, he needs more. 
every thrust inside of you, the fronts of his thighs slam against the side of the sink. you feel like the entire room is shaking with how forceful he’s being, but he can’t help himself, not when you’re sucking him in so tight. “shit, so fuckin’ perfect for me, fuck, so wet, ‘s it feel good, pumpkin?”
you nod vehemently, can barely talk amongst your whimpers and whines, can’t even really form a thought it feels so fucking good. “mmm,” you whine, “feels mm- feel- s- so good, baby, fuck, so so s- so good.”
“can’t even talk, you’re so cock drunk, huh, pretty?” he asks, moving both of his hands to your hips, rocking you back and forth to meet his thrusts and you just let him.
“please don’t stop, please, gonna come,” you say, the only string of words you’ve managed since he’s started fucking you, but you need him to know how close you are. 
“lemme feel it, babygirl, lemme feel how tight ya get when you’re comin’ on my cock, yea?” he coaxes, rhythmic pace unwavering, harder now even as he pushes you over the edge. before you even make a noise, he knows that you’re coming, can feel you gush, dripping down the underside of his cock as you squeeze him impossibly tighter and he’s throbbing now, doesn’t know how much longer he can take it when you’re making such adorable noises and looking at him like that between bouts of inabilities to focus and panting that heavily. 
he lets you ride through your orgasm completely as he hammers into you, lets you recover fully before even thinking about asking, “can i come on your thighs, angel?”
“oh, fuck,” you breathe, gummy walls fluttering at the thought.
you’re so drenched, juices running down your thighs and the inside of your legs, that it’s easy for him to press your legs together and fuck into them to finish. your plush thighs aren’t as tight as your cunt, but they’re softer, fuller, kinder, and he can’t get enough of the feeling and the sight, skin rippling as his thick cock slides against the sheened skin, disappearing into the fats of them repeatedly. you can’t stop looking either, forehead pressed against his as you both watch this sight in awe. 
“gonna paint your thighs white, puppy, fuck,” he announces, his own breath getting heavier, thrusts getting less rhythmic, more messy as he gives in, heavy cock resting between your thighs as he releases.
the throb is violent against the inside of your thighs and you can feel every single pulse as stream after stream of his sticky load coats your thighs. as the last bit of come drools out of the tip, he presses your legs together harder and pushes his hips forward one more time, hissing as his sensitive cock slides through the mess of come he’s created on your legs. 
“holy shit,” he breathes after a silent second. or, well, as silent as it can be with an entire world of people and happenings just a door away.
you nod, finally catching your own as you cup his cheek with your hand, guiding him down to meet your lips one last time, not because you’re desperate or needing, but something that you hope he takes with him as he leaves the bathroom and the club, a wordless thank you.
in the aftermath of lust and infatuation, you smile at him. he holds you in place, but leans away from you to grab some form of tissue to clean you up. he helps you down from the edge of the sink, helps you stand up right when your feet touch the floor, backs of your thighs aching from being pushed into the edge of a cheap sink all night. 
“well,” you shyly bend over to pull your panties up from around your ankles, “really great night,” you say, voice still weak even after you clear your throat. 
“yea,” he breathes a light chuckle, “a really great night,” he agrees.
you wait a beat, patient to see if he’s going to add anything else, a prying question or longing statement. the longer that you stay in this bathroom, the louder the noises of the confines get, the outside fading away momentarily as you hear the occasional drip of the faucet and the hum of fluorescent lights.
“do you think i could-,” he starts.
“i should probably get back to-,” you start at the same time.
“what?” you ask quickly, rushing to get him to finish the sentence he started, but there’s a soft pink on his cheeks and he’s quiet for another couple of seconds, and then he shakes his head.
“nothing,” he says, “i should get back to my friends too.” you only notice the sigh, the gulp, the hesitance and the regret because you’re looking for it, because you’re feeling it too. 
his hand is on the door handle and for a single second you’re sure that he’s going to say something else, finish his other sentence or start a new, but he doesn’t. he opens the door, the loudness of the music unwelcomed in comparison to the privacy and seclusion of your bathroom hookup.
“well,” you repeat, “maybe i’ll see you some other time and you can fuck me in the bathroom again.” his hand is still on your waist as he smiles huge and his laughter takes residency in your chest seemingly until the end of time.
“or, maybe you could-,” he starts, but perhaps the stars have unaligned themselves now, because he can’t seem to catch a break.
“HEY!” kuroo screams from across the bar the second that he makes eye contact with you. akaashi hits him once and then a second time for good measure, leaning in and overtly pointing to the person next to you. kuroo raises his arm, taps on his wrist with the other hand, and oh god you don’t even want to know what time it is. still, you shake your head and turn your attention back to your fling that you hope asks for a number and turns into at the very least a longer-term fling. 
“sorry about him,” you shake your head, and you swear he looks like he’s going to try one more time, pushing past all of the things that are refusing to let him ask you a simple question, but the blonde from earlier catches his attention, making a similar motion with wide eyes, chest forward like he’s going to walk over here any minute and your well it was really great while it lasted fling is removing his hand from your lower back. 
“i hope so, yea,” he replies, a smaller smile now as he turns his body towards the two people he was with before that are heading to the exit. “i really hope so.” 
the second that he starts to move so do you, both making your way through the dwindling crowd to the respective groups that you came here with, throwing a look over your shoulder every few seconds to make sure that, yes, he is indeed stealing the same obsessive glances that you are as he leaves.
“i can’t fucking believe you,” you say, hitting kuroo on the same shoulder that akaashi did, “he was about to give me his number, and now he’s gone forever.”
“you’d think that you’d get his number before you left the bathroom, yn, god,” kuroo says, shifting blame. “besides, maybe you’ll come out with us more now instead of being a buzzkill all the time, instead of being all guys, it’s not a good idea and i literally have work in the morning and-”
“kuroo is… oddly right,” akaashi says, interrupting him and shrugging, “in some weird way. he probably comes here from time to time, i’m sure you’ll run into him again. what was his name?”
your eyes go wide and you try to hide the fact that you fucked this guy without ever learning his name, but tsukishima catches it instantly and starts cackling. “wow, who even are you?”
“we’ll come back next friday, yea? you’ll probably find him again and you guys can have a fun mystery hookup in the bathroom again,” akaashi half-reason, half-pokes fun and you nod. you hope he comes back too. maybe you’ll at least learn his name next time.
/\ /\ /\
despite the fact that you do not regret anything from last night (well, maybe the part where you didn’t get the number of an incredibly hot guy who fucked you in the bathroom of a club, but nothing else), the morning is still not well-recieved for you. you didn’t even drink that much last night, but the small amounts of alcohol and the severe lack of sleep have you waking up feeling like your bones are made of bricks and your head is filled with them.
you didn’t get home until nearly 3 in the morning and you didn’t pass out until well past 3. you can’t brush your teeth enough times and the water in the shower can’t be hot enough and no matter how much concealer you layer on, the bags under your eyes are still at least somewhat visible.
regret isn’t the right word per se, because you definitely don’t regret going out the night (morning?) before or staying out as long as you did, but you definitely are feeling the effects of your bad decisions come to life. 
and on top of everything, you have to be presentable enough to go into work? that’s ridiculous. 
** bffs + tsukishima **
< delivered / 8:04 am < alright who tf did this to me
> kuroo / 8:15 am > that guy last night lmao
< delivered / 8:25 am < i wish akaashi was up instead of u
> kuroo / 8:29 am > what time do you   have to be in anyway?
< delivered / 8:30 am < omw now.
a deep breath is not enough to prepare you for a full day of work, but it has to do something, right? and taking six of them outside of the front doors of not only your job, but your first day at your new job is probably enough to compensate for the exhaustion and physical garbage that you’re feeling.
you push open the doors, fake smile plastered on your very tired face, apron draped over your forearm. “good morning,” you offer over the chime of the entrance bell. before you even step fully inside, you’re greeted with the same tired-veiled enthusiasm, voice so familiarly soft that his morning welcome sounds more like an opening hymn. 
you walk towards the voice, but you don’t see anyone fully yet, only the top of a moving black cap behind the counter accompanied by shuffling papers and clanging pots. “just a sec, sorry,” he calls before standing up straight, rice cooker in his arms and he realizes it in the same immediate instant that you do.
gray eyes, still pretty but surprised now; gray hair no longer casually messy but neat under an onigiri embroidered dad cap; tight black shirt against his chest long-sleeved now; and he laughs, not because anything is funny, but because he doesn’t know how else to react at how impossible this situation is and yea it’s the exact same laugh that’s still living in your chest. 
you’re sure you look like a deer in the headlight right now, because it’s certainly how you feel. you can’t really breathe, don’t know what to say, because, yes, this is, indeed, the man that you had sex with in a dirty club bathroom less than 8 hours ago. 
you look down at his name tag, miya osamu. well, fuck, if only you’d have learned his name last night.
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♡ tori's polls ♡ ( which was your favorite pet name? )
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taglist: @miyaluv127 @useless-bicth @mushasstuff @unstaaableaf @mimivinx @tsukiran @kurapika-1999 @hehatesmati @karmakarter @hunny-hotline @bella009888 @um-no-ok @footjib @mon-cherries @privthemis @agashki @renster05 @greeniegreengreen @tokyo-banana @fandomtrash5092 @coyloves @heathsuii @pasta-water @ran-rangasma @ayz-it-they @ellesalzar
(if any of these are wrong, off and you notice it LMK so i can fix em!)
join my taglist here!! ♡ ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢs ᴀɴᴅ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ᴍᴇᴀɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ ♡
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follow my writing updates tag: #♡ woah! tori's writing update! ♡ (pinned tag!)
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thankyous-burntwater · 2 years ago
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ahahahaAhAhAhaAHAHAAHAHAHHAAAHAHAHAAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGHHHHHHHHAAAAAAAAUGGHHHGGGH
hhhaahaa
GGAAAAAAAAHHHHHHAAAHAAAGAhhahhahaannAAAAAAAUHGGG
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asherdian-zhane · 1 year ago
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Lol just randomly drawing outfits...and yes.. it's SD! Dream
(this ain't some kind of mafia au or something..just wanna draw 💀)
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jimmy and gem are each other’s breaking points. jimmy was irritating and arrogant enough that he finally pushed gem, a princess who is known for refusing to fight, to kill him. meanwhile jimmy has been pushed and prodded enough, and getting killed by one of the few people he still felt was sort of on his side was enough to push him off the edge. please help i’m losing my mind CAN ANYBODY HEAR ME
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eirone-and-cheese · 4 days ago
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hi, if I could just-- let me-- may I just um--
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he gives off cozy boyfriend vibes and i love it
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cozyqueerchaos · 2 years ago
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Sorry about your hand, hope that feels better soon!!
U wanted asks so !!! Been thinking about ur recent geraldoom fic and like. What if they could be happy. How do u think that would turn out? If Maria lives and they can be a weird little family, would they take over the world together? Just go live in a remote location? Or even if Maria does die, would Doom and Gerald being in a relationship save Gerald from succumbing to his grief and messing with Shadows memories? So many questions that I never considered before but now it's all I can think about sjfhfhd
Thanks >_< i feel so dumb but thankfully no fractures or anything!
Oh my god what if. I got so so attached to their weird little family while I was writing that alskakgkalal? Like. They could've been okay. Not good,,, but ok.
Black doom would've been more caring/present than Gerald from the very start, help balance out his parenting a little! And Gerald would eventually start doing the same, unconsciously learning from him that it's okay to slow down and enjoy life. Longterm, I think having a family like that, removed from whatever fucked-up societal pressures the black arms had, could've helped Doom a lot. Maybe enough to make him stop conquering planets.
That said, Doom still wouldn't have been... great? Caring of his kids but SUPER overprotective, and definitely would've forced shadow into the Family Business (tm). Like mafia-style "I don't approve of your partner so I'm gonna shoot him in front of you" overprotective lol
If the raid had still happened... not sure! I could just as easily see them dragging each other down as I could black doom growing concerned and trying to pull gerald out of it. He'd definitely NOTICE the abrupt personality shift and be concerned by it, but he cared about maria too, and hated humanity from the start- he might've been all for it! (Except, of course, killing shadow in the process. He would've had a few problems with that, imo). But, that said, I think BD likes Gerald for who he is, and despite his general shittiness, a mass murderer is not one of those things. Plus, maybe Gerald would've done better generally because he wouldn't have felt so alone and hopeless in the wake of maria's murder.
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danger-tits-lute · 5 months ago
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"Lute.. Look i know what you are dealing with, you might say you dont believe me and trust me when i say i actually do, when Lilith left i felt the same pain as you, but trust me when i say Adam's soul did not go destroyed at all, just reborn in another form" this was a rare sight, was the King of hell being... Compassione towards her?
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She felt a strange mixture of rage and devastation. She didn’t want his sympathy; she wanted Adam back. To toy with her like this was evil of the highest caliber.
“HOW DO YOU KNOW THAT?!” She swallowed hard. Don’t believe him Lute, he’s not to be trusted, Heaven warned you of this. Hell fell for a reason.
Lute on the outside rn:
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Lute on the inside:
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fortheloveofjuicywomen · 21 days ago
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GAAAAAAAAHHHH DAMN THEM THANGS LOOKING REAL DELICIOUS!! 👀👀🤤🤤🍉🍉🍫🥛🍫🥛😋😋
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ari-jay · 1 year ago
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I bestow upon thee a rose of fangirling. Will you accept my rose?
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"Hello dearie! did you know that the average strawberry has 200 seeds? 🍓"
Winnie would definitely love strawberries, may it be cake, candy, milk or hairspray! 🩷
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dylanisdazed · 1 year ago
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Welllllllll gaaaaaaaahhhh daaaaaaaamn
Bubba Fairy
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shedidntevenswear · 1 year ago
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going through the experience with SB that led to her writing “I gave it my all, he gave me nothing at all then wondered why I left” AND THEN having to experience that same kind of all-her-efforts-being-met-with-apathy in her personal life too. gaaaaaaaahhhh its cool to care BUT AT WHAT COST putting in all the effort and getting nothing back on all fronts is a very specific kind of pain
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thewittyphantom · 2 months ago
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Next, here's Yuo's dialogue with Mimi and Roa.
Mimi: The Goha Six were on a school trip while I had to run the company! They don't deserve to be Prez! Yuo: Did you say I don't deserve to be the president? Mimi: Uhh...I didn't mean you specifically, President Yuo! Yuo: So you're the temp that Dohl chose to oversee Goha Enterprises while we were gone. Mimi: Dohl? You mean that drone shaped like a helmet? Dohl: ........... Yuo: You're still here? You can leave. Now that I'm back, your job is done. Mimi: Gaaaaaaah! So what's my next job? With all my executive experience, I can run one of Goha's subsidiaries. Dohl: You will work the reception desk at Goha Library. Mimi: I'm going to be a librarian? But how can I do that and run one of Goha's subsidiaries at the same time? Yuo: You can't. So you won't. You're demoted. Mimi: Gaaaaaaaahhhh! You must be buggin'! I was one of the best presidents this company ever had! Fine! I'll just work hard to climb back up! But it'd be nice if you write me a recommendation... (Wait! He won't write me a recommendo if I fight against him to save Rush Duels. What should I do?) Yuo: See you later. Mimi: Ahh! Wait! (What if I Rush Duel him but let him win? Best of both worlds! I gotta do it for the recommendation! Cause it'll be boss to be the boss!)
Yuo: You're Roa? I heard you're famous, but I don't know you. Roa: Well, you did just get back from outer space. That's why you don't know what's cool these days. Yuo: Grr... Roa: So Yuo, I got a question for ya. Yuo: Ask away. Roa: I feel like you're underestimating both Yuga and Rush Duels. Why would you do that? I guarantee it's gonna come back to bite you. Yuo: What! Roa: If I mess around against Yuga, I wouldn't stand a chance. Yuo: That's because you're you and I'm me. Roa: Just because it's a game doesn't mean you can play around. Besides, giving it your all makes a Duel even more fun! Yuo: Humph...Then why don't you show me how you're not playing around. I'll defeat you without even breaking a sweat.
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sometimesmaybespoof · 9 months ago
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GAAAAAAAAHHHH!!! RAAAAAAHHHH!! AAAAARRGGGGG!!!!!
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away-ward · 1 year ago
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hi, i've just recently finished this series, found your blog, and read all the extras everywhere, and ohmygod?? You're telling me willemmy and winterdamon are the only stable couples after 10 years past nightfall?? Wait, were WE and WD stable too, or am i reading it wrong? What's going on!?!?! I was shocked!!! What the hell was that?! 😀😂?? Holy shit ahhahahaha, and does that mean only emory and winter never had any doubt about their spouses? Including will and damon ofc? Huh?! Rika has been consulting michael about her feelings for banks since 10 years ago? Ahhahahaha im laughing hysterically right now?? Whats going onnnnn. but then if WE and WD are stable, why do they sound like they've hooked up a couple times when damon suggested that hook up spot in nightfall's epilogue? I get that this book has polyamorous tones but damn? Not a single monogamy relationship here? Ok, let me just process this real quick gaaaaaaaahhhh
-🥨
Hi 🥨! Welcome... I guess?? It's sort of chaotic here but I hope you have a fun time???
Everyone sort of interprets the series and relationships differently, and wants different things. For instance, I acknowledged that most likely all these couples were having some sort of sharing relationships, but personally I would have preferred a bit more monogamy and Chosen Family vibes. Other people deny the sharing entirely.
Truthfully, nothing was really confirmed until the recent extra. I was surprised to find that it took 10 years for them to start sharing again after everything that happened. So far we haven't had a WE/WD scene and here's hoping we don't
Is that what you got from the epilogue??? I thought Damon was telling Will that he hooked up with Winter there, so he knows it's a good spot for a quickie or something. I didn't get any vibes of sharing happening. Like I said, we all get something different from it.
It kinda sounds like you in a book hangover/shock, which is always an interesting place to be. Have fun!! And thanks for stopping by. Remember, we're here if you need post-devil's night support.
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-KO
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