#spite smut

[asirensrage]

Demanding It All - Gojo Satoru Oneshot

Title: Demanding It All Rating: Explicit Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Unnamed Female OC Warnings: Slight possessive behaviour. Sex. Mentions of Gojo being an asshole (and ruining her dates with others) Summary: They've both finally had enough. Satoru does something about it. Sequel to Wanting More

Notes: Unbeta-d. I wrote this in a few hours and only looked it over a couple times so forgive me if it's not to my usual standards lol. It's also only the second time I've written him. I used/referenced a couple prompts from this post.

This is dedicated to @nejires-hado and the anon in my ask box who decided to complain to me about @nejires-hado sexualizing anime characters before asking me "Don't you ever look at yourself and feel shame?" The answer, of course, is no and because I excel at spite, I bring you this spite smut. Enjoy!

“Damn it, Gojo! What the hell is your problem?” 

“Hmm?” he asks, looking not at all bothered by her anger. He’s lounging on her couch again, looking as though he belongs there. No matter how many times she’s thrown him out, he’s found his way back. Like some stray cat she never wanted. 

“Why are you ruining everything?”

“Ruining?” he laughs at that. All it does is piss her off more. “What was there to ruin?”

“Don’t you have other people you can bother? Or Elders to irritate? Schools to reform? Some shit that doesn’t require you to dig into my personal life?”

He stares at her. Even if she can’t see his eyes, she can feel his gaze. “Who says I’m not?”

She tries not to scream in frustration. She doesn’t know what’s wrong with him or what changed. Suddenly, he was showing up more frequently, not to mention interrupting all of her dates, throwing his arm around her like she was his and demeaning every man she had met with. It was driving her insane. Especially considering she actually liked the first one he drove off. “I’m sick of this. I’m sick of you acting like you’re not doing anything wrong!”

He sits up at that, long legs bent at the knee with his feet planted on the ground. “When have I ever done something wrong?” He scoffs. 

“You showed up during my date and told him our kids were waiting for us!” 

“Oh, that.” He leaned back, getting comfortable again. “He was boring. I saved you from a terrible date.”

“I didn't ask you to!” she snarls. “In fact, I don’t know why you’re still here! We’re not friends, Gojo.”

He grins and she can already tell that whatever comes out of his mouth is going to irritate her further. “Oh? Then what are we, dearest?”

“A headache.” 

“Aww, come on. You deserve better than them.” He stands up and moves towards her. She glares at him, inwardly cursing the Limitless that keeps him protected. 

“I deserve some peace from you,” she bites back asking if he has other friends. She was angry but that was just cruel. “What is your problem?”

“You.” 

She blinks, surprised by the tone of his voice. Satoru is rarely serious. Even at the brink of death, he finds a way to enjoy himself, to mock those weaker than him. Everyone is weaker than him. “What?”

“You are my problem.” He moves closer and she stops herself before she steps back. She’s not afraid of him. She never has been. 

She glares up at him. “Well don’t stick around on my account.”

He sighs and she gets the sense he’s disappointed. “Haven’t you figured it out yet?”

“Gojo, leave me alone.” She doesn’t want to play his games. “Or I’m going to find a way to throw you out the window.”

He laughs at that. “Always so creative! Not that it would hurt.” 

She reacts without thinking, shoving him back. Her hands stop before they can reach him. It just makes her angrier. “Fuck you, Satoru!”

He reaches up, grasping her wrists. Her breath catches in her throat at the feel of his skin against hers, the warm grip that holds her. Has she ever touched him before? Has anyone? “Promise?” 

“Just stop, okay? Stop bothering me. Stop scaring my dates off. Just stop!”

“They don’t deserve you.”

“Yeah?” she sneers. “Who does? Nanami?”

His lips are on hers before she can even think. His hands still hold her wrists, keeping her in place as his mouth moves against hers. He pulls back, just enough so that they can breathe. 

She stares at him, confused and uncertain. He kissed her. Satoru, who has strived to make her life hell, kissed her. “What–”

He lets go of her wrists, one hand moving to the small of her back, pulling her into him. The other hand goes to the back of her neck, tilting her head up towards him. His mouth finds her again. The kiss deepens. It’s hard and demanding, almost punishing for something she never knew she was doing.

She can taste the sweetness of the candies he had been eating on his tongue. His grip tightens for a moment and she moves her arms, reaching up to wrap them around him. She digs her nails into his shoulder, feeling him smile against her lips. She loses herself in the kiss, mindlessly wondering how it came to this while hoping he doesn’t stop. 

His mouth moves, trailing kisses against her jaw, down her neck. She presses her fingers into the base of his scalp, trying to keep herself from pulling off his blindfold so she could bury her fingers in his hair. 

“So good,” he mutters against her skin. “-knew it.” 

She’d shove him off for that if she didn’t want him closer. She presses up on her toes, nipping at his jaw for the remark. His grip tightens slightly before he kisses her again. He steps forward, forcing her back. She lets him lead in the parody of a dance, ushering her through her own apartment as he sheds the shirt he’s wearing in between claiming her mouth with his. She doesn’t even question how he knows which way to go. There’s no point. Not with him. 

She pulls off her own shirt, throwing it in the direction of her laundry basket. His chest presses against her, warm skin against hers. Somehow she never thought he’d be warm. His mouth finds her again and the thought is lost as she kisses him back just as hard. She bites at his lip, ignoring the way he laughs against her. He lets her take what she wants, all the while moving them until the back of her knees hit the side of her bed and she’s lying down with him above her. 

Her breath catches in her throat at the sight of his eyes. Darkened with lust, she can barely begin to decipher the look in them before he closes them, distracting her again with his kiss. His fingers move, tugging at the shorts she’s wearing. She lifts her hips enough to help him pull them off. He takes her underwear with them. 

She closes her eyes, unwilling to see his expression as he looks at her, bare under his gaze. Weren’t they always? 

He doesn’t linger long. His hands move, mapping the curves of her body as his mouth traces a trail that only he understands. Her hands grip the sheets under her and she allows herself the satisfaction of digging her fingers into his hair like she wanted. She can’t stop the urge to yank on it, just because she finally can. He bites at her skin before pressing his tongue flat against one of her nipples. Her breath catches in her throat and the desire to hurt him fades against the need for more. 

She hooks a leg around him, pressing him closer. 

“Patience, darling,” he teases. “I want to savour this.”

She groans in frustration. “Don’t play with me, Satoru.” 

“But it’s so fun!” 

Her eyes narrow and before she can lift her leg to kick him off of her, he grips it, holding her in place against him. He presses closer and rocks his hips against her. The friction of his clothed legs pressing against her makes her gasp. 

“Wait,” he orders. He bends back down, mouth on her skin again. He keeps one hand on her leg, keeping her against him. The other skims against her, cupping one of her breasts. His fingers brush against her nipple, tugging at it playfully before he moves to soothe it with his tongue. 

Her head falls back, relaxing into the sensations. Goosebumps prickle against her skin that his fingers brush against. She’s going to be marked, bruises caused by his mouth. It's as though she’s one of those desserts he goes out of his way to find, the ones he lingers in eating, trying to enjoy as long as possible. 

He shifts, moving down slightly and releasing his hold on her leg. His hand goes between her legs and she is left suddenly open as he presses against her carefully. It’s seconds before he finds it, thumb pressing against her clit as her legs clench around him. If he laughs, she doesn’t hear it, her focus only on his fingers and the way they are slowly pressing in. When his mouth joins, his tongue flicks as it replaces his thumb before pressing flat. 

The pressure increases and she buries her hand in his hair again, holding him close as she gets closer to the edge. 

“Please, please, please,” she begs. She’s never begged him before but she can’t stop. Not when there’s more. Not when she’s so close. 

She breaks. He doesn’t protest at the way her legs tighten around him or how she pulls his hair without meaning. It’s as though all he can focus on is her and how she tastes. He finally pulls away, letting her catch her breath and come back to earth. She could finally understand why he called himself a god. Why it might be slightly deserved. Forget what abilities he could have, that alone was enough to redeem him. 

He positions himself above her, staring down at her. His eyes are bright in the shadows of her room. She stares back, any hesitance is gone in the aftermath of her orgasm. 

“Stop looking at me,” she says softly, finally breaking the silence between them. He smiles at her, something softer than his usual smug grin. 

“I can’t.” Seeing her confusion, his smile widens. “You’re so pretty like this.” 

Her nose scrunches up at the compliment. It doesn’t seem right coming from him. She tries to shove him back but he grabs her hand, pinning it down against the bed next to her. 

“Don’t,” he says softly. He leans forward and brushes his nose against her jaw. “I want to see everything.”

“Don’t you already?”

“Not like this.” He kisses her again before pulling back. She sits up slightly, confused at the sudden coldness before she realizes what he’s doing. His pants are quickly abandoned and she can see the condom he pulls out. 

“Can I–” her offer to help is cut off. He moves impossibly quick sometimes and before she can even move, he’s back between her legs. He pauses only to check with her, to meet her eyes as he positions himself. She hooks a leg around his waist, pulling him closer. 

The stretch is uncomfortable at first, despite the preparation. He groans against her skin as he holds himself close. She breathes, trying to let herself relax as he fills her. Did it feel like this before? Were others lacking or was it simply more because it was him? 

His lips move across her neck, an attempt to distract them both. She clutches at him, nails digging into his skin before she demands that he move. So he does. 

Her head falls back as he thrusts forward. It’s so much and somehow not enough. She wants more. She wants to burn him into her skin, some proof that this is real and happening. That he’s really muttering in her ear about how good she feels, how he’s the only one to deserve her. How he won’t let her go. 

She ignores that and focuses on how she feels. He moves one of her legs higher, his elbow under her knee as he tries to get closer, shifting the angle of his hips until her mouth drops open and words become impossible. The noises from them both would be embarrassing if she could bring herself to care. The pressure continues to build and she finds herself plunging into another orgasm before she realizes it. He kisses her, swallowing her scream as his pace increases. She leaves scratches in his skin, drawing blood as he fucks her into the mattress, refusing the ease even for a moment. 

She’s teetering on the edge of another when he finally breaks. He groans, burying himself into her. He holds her tight enough to bruise but doesn’t move. The potential of her own orgasm fades and for once she’s a bit thankful if only for the chance to breathe, to hold off on losing herself to him again. 

He pulls out, discarding the condom before he collapses on the bed next to her. She turns, moving to her stomach while she tries to recover her energy. How did they get here? Satoru and her were friends. Sort of. And now…did they ruin that? 

An arm curls around her waist before she’s pulled into his chest. She glares, regretting the last hour already. His eyes are closed and she’s surprised at the fact that he actually looks relaxed. Not in the way he pretends he is, like when he taunts the Elders.This looks real. 

One of his eyes open, peering at her. “Still hate me?” he asks, sounding far too amused for someone who just tried to fuck her senseless. 

“Yes.”

His lips twitch at that. “Same amount?”

She pretends to think about it. “Hmm…maybe a little less.”

“A little?”

She moves, holding up a hand and showing an inch between her thumb and index finger. “Just a bit.” 

He laughs. “Then I’ll just have to keep you in bed until you love me.”

Her face scrunches up at the thought. “I’m going to throw you off the roof.” 

Satoru’s grip tightens on her, pulling her closer. She thinks she feels his lips against her hair. “You can try.”

“One of these days, Satoru…” she warns. He just closes his eyes, ignoring her. She tries to push him off, gaining a bit of space so she can at least clean herself up. His grip is firm though and he doesn’t let go.

“Not yet,” she hears him say. “Just…wait, okay?”

It’s too soft and she finds herself settling without realizing. “Yeah,” she leans back against him. “Okay.” 

taglist: @raith-way @arrthurpendragon @veetlegeuse @chickensarentcheap @nejires-hado @residentdormouse @endless-oc-creations  @stanshollaand @wordspin-shares @chrissymunson

[your-girl-nina]

Jegulus is honestly the most boring ship imaginable. It’s like watching paint dry while listening to elevator music. James Potter, the golden boy of Gryffindor, stuck with a lifeless brick like Regulus? No thanks. And don’t even get me started on the writers who keep pushing this nonsense. Do they have no creativity left? It's like they’re recycling trash and trying to pass it off as something worth reading. If you’re going to waste your time on this ship, at least make it remotely interesting instead of writing the same dull garbage over and over. Seriously, do better.

Since you were so nice, here's some jegulus smut for you☺. I made sure it suited your request this time! Come again, we're always open, just like your mom's legs when she had to give birth to someone with a skull as thick as yours! Enjoyyyyy 🥰😘

TW, english is not my first language

Thanks to @deathnguts for contributing to the idea!

James had overheard the comments before, but this time they hit him harder. He rounded a corner in the castle and froze when he saw Regulus against the wall with Mulciber and Avery towering over him.

“Why do we even bother?” Mulciber sneered. “He’s so dull.”

“Yeah, one night with him would probably be enough to make you fall asleep for eternity,” Avery taunted.

Regulus looked down at his shoes and didn’t respond. James felt his blood boil as he watched them walk away laughing. He stormed over to Regulus, taking long strides to close the distance quickly.

“What did they want?” he demanded in a low voice.

Regulus jumped at James’ voice, looking up wide-eyed. “Nothing, just -”

“They always fucking bother you!” James snapped. “You don’t deserve that shit.”

“I’m fine,” Regulus replied softly, avoiding eye contact.

James reached out and cupped his face gently, forcing him to look up. “No, you’re not fine,” he said firmly. “And that’s not okay with me.”

Regulus searched James’ eyes for a moment before letting out a shaky breath. “I love you too, Potter,” he whispered.

Something inside James cracked open like a dam being released all at once. Suddenly everything made sense – why his heart raced every time Regulus was near; why the thought of him hurt by someone else filled him with such rage; why he couldn’t bear to lose him.

Cupping the back of Regulus’ head with one hand, he pulled him into a deep kiss full of desperation and longing. He needed Regulus to know how much he cared about him; how much he protected what was his; how much he loved him.

They broke apart when they heard laughter from around the corner echoing through the corridor.

“That won’t shut them up,” James growled, his breath coming out in hot puffs. “But I can think of something that will.”

Regulus looked at him in confusion, but before he could say anything, James grabbed his hand and pulled him down the corridor towards the stairs leading to their dorm.

When they reached the top of the staircase, James pushed Regulus up against the wall and attacked his mouth with bruising force. He plundered Regulus’ mouth with his tongue, claiming him fiercely as he pressed their bodies together.

Regulus moaned into the kiss, his hands fisting in James’ hair and pulling him closer. The sound sent a jolt straight to James’ groin, making him ache with need. He broke the kiss and captured Regulus’ lips again in a searing kiss before trailing a path of heated kisses down his jawline to his neck.

James sucked at the skin on Regulus’ neck hard enough to leave a mark and felt a surge of possessiveness rush through him. He needed everyone who saw this – all those pricks who thought they had a right to comment on them – to know that Regulus was his; that no one else could touch him like this; that no one else had this power over him.

He looked into Regulus’ eyes as he ground their hips together slowly, relishing in how good it felt to have him like this – needy and pliant beneath him. “You’re mine,” he growled. “Tell me you’re mine.”

Regulus let out a shuddering breath, desire burning bright in his eyes. “I’m yours,” he whispered desperately.

James felt a surge of satisfaction as he claimed ownership over every inch of Regulus’ body with each thrust of his hips. He kissed down Regulus’ chest, nipping at sensitive skin along the way until he reached the waistband of his trousers.

With deft fingers, James unbuttoned Regulus’ trousers and yanked them down along with his pants, freeing his aching cock. He licked a stripe up the underside of Regulus’ cock, swirling his tongue around the head before taking him fully into his mouth.

Regulus let out a strangled groan and arched his back against the wall as James bobbed his head up and down. He moaned James’ name over and over again, each desperate plea for more driving James to take him deeper.

James hummed around Regulus’ length, sending vibrations that made him shudder with pleasure. He ran his hands up and down Regulus’ thighs, squeezing the muscular flesh as he teased him relentlessly.

“James,” Regulus panted, “I need to -”

James pulled back reluctantly with a wet pop, smirking at the look of desperation on Regulus’ face. “What do you need?” he asked huskily.

Regulus stared at him with darkened eyes filled with lust. “You,” he said simply.

The raw desire in that one word made something deep inside James ache with need. He pushed away from the wall and turned Regulus around so he was facing it instead.

“Hands on the wall,” he ordered roughly.

Regulus obeyed instantly, bracing himself against the wall with both hands spread wide. The sight of him like that – willing to submit to whatever James wanted – sent a surge of possessiveness rushing through him once again.

Running a hand slowly down Regulus’ back until he reached the curve of his ass, James gave it a sharp slap without warning.

Regulus gasped at the sting but didn’t make a sound as James rubbed over the spot soothingly. He continued this pattern – alternating between slapping and rubbing – until both cheeks were flushed pink and warm under his touch.

When James leaned in closer, pressing their bodies together from behind, he couldn’t help but smirk at the way Regulus shivered in anticipation.

“You like that, don’t you?” he whispered hotly in Regulus’ ear. “You like it when I mark you as mine.”

Regulus let out a shaky breath, his voice barely above a whisper. “Yes.”

The confession went straight to James’ cock, making him throb with need. He reached around and wrapped a hand around Regulus’ hardness, stroking him slowly from base to tip.

“Tell me,” he growled possessively. “Tell me who you belong to.”

Regulus moaned at the tight grip of James’ hand around him and pushed his hips back against James’ erection desperately. “I’m yours,” he panted. “All yours.”

That was all it took for James to lose control completely. He pulled his hand away and lined himself up with Regulus’ entrance, sliding in slowly until they were both fully connected.

Time seemed to stand still for a moment as they adjusted to the feeling of being joined together like this – bodies merging into one under the weight of their desire. Then James started moving, thrusting into Regulus with slow and deliberate strokes.

He held onto Regulus tightly, one arm wrapped securely around his waist while the other tangled in his hair and pulled just enough to expose his neck. Each thrust drove them closer to the edge as James devoured every delicious sound that spilled from Regulus’ lips.

When James felt himself getting close, he let go of Regulus’ hair and reached between them to stroke him again in time with his thrusts. It only took a few strokes before Regulus came undone under his touch, spilling over their hands with a cry of ecstasy that sent James tumbling over the edge after him.

They clung to each other desperately as waves of pleasure washed over them until finally everything stilled except for their racing hearts.

James pressed soft kisses along the back of Regulus’ neck as he slowly pulled out. He turned Regulus around in his arms and brushed a strand of hair away from his flushed face, searching his eyes for any sign of regret.

“What are we doing?” Regulus whispered, mirroring James’ thoughts exactly.

But then something shifted in his eyes – like a wall coming down to reveal the real him underneath. “I don’t want to do this in secret anymore.”

The vulnerability in that one statement made James’ heart swell with love. He leaned in and kissed him softly, pouring every ounce of emotion he felt into that one kiss.

“Okay,” he said against Regulus’ lips when they finally broke apart. “Okay.”

[i-need-of-a-hobby]

sometimes ill be in the middle of reading a marauders era smut fic and ill wonder if this is what my mother intended when she bought be a copy of the sorcerers stone when i was like 7

[alidravana]

Spite is a fantastic motivator for writing fic.

For all those who are dropping nasty anons in my moots inboxes, just so you know this is only motivating me to write more BuckTommy fics!

[blutopaz15]

next time

“Next time?” she wonders, intending a smirk but mustering only a shudder.

“Next time,” he grins, landing a lazily-placed kiss at her jaw.

--

5 times rayla gets off + 1 time callum does too

chapter 4 of 6 rated e 2.3k

chapter summary:

He’d ended up on the ground the first two times—once with her hips pointedly settled over his, her hands pushing at his shoulders, and once with her sitting on his chest, her knees on either side of his ears—and then the last time, she’d had him backed against the stone castle wall, wrists pinned…

…just like she had him now, in fact.

READ ON AO3

[asirensrage]

And we love it!

Of course, ma'am! Dealer's choice for the spite smut!

"This is an Obi Wan x OC story," she said. "She should have a friend though," she said. "Someone is getting the finger," she said. "Do not proceed if for any personal or legal reasons smuttyness isn't for you," she said. And that's what you missed on Glee 🤪

This got a little bit away from me, especially since I'm technically trying to write Inara'a's prologue rn, but I'm not complaining, because horny!Khaii is the superior Khaii 😏

Also tagging my sisters in smut and fellow Khaii!hoes: @asirensrage, @jvstjewels, @stachedocs, @mystic-scripture, @lord-savior-dean-winchester

"Loud day?" he asked.

"Very loud day." Inara'a rubbed her temples with a tired groan. "Too many people with too many opinions."

"We could take off for a few days." Khaii stepped behind her, placing his warm hands on her shoulders. "Go somewhere where the only thoughts for miles would be my elaborate fantasies about getting you out of your clothes."

"This sounds very tempting." Inara'a let her head fall back against his chest with a content sigh.

She closed her eyes and concentrated on the soothing circles Khaii's thumbs were drawing on both sides of her neck, already lifting some of the tension in her shoulders and easing the worst of her headache.

This was dangerous, she thought.

Intimate and comforting. Something she was very swiftly getting used to. Something she went looking for after days like this.

And yes, she would still remind Khaii that this was just her waiting, that eventually whatever it was they shared would end. But lately it was starting to feel a lot like Inara'a was reminding herself as well.

"You know, I can't leave," she told him wistfully.

"I know." He pressed his lips against the crown of her head - a soft sensation she almost missed, because she had been so focused on his hands trailing down her back, surprisingly nimble fingers working to undo the many tiny hooks of her dress.

It slid off her body, pooling around her feet in a sheeny pile only to be quickly joined by her airy chemise.

His appreciative hum vibrated against her temple as he turned slightly, trailing his mouth down the side of her face and along her neck.

His fingers were feather light as he let them glide upwards over her sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake before cupping her breasts with his hands.

"There's still some things I could do for you right here and now," he mumbled; breath warm against her shoulder, teeth grazing playfully over skin.

"All you need to do is ask."

He liked that. Hearing her beg for it - knowing how much she wanted him. She didn't have to read his mind to know this much by now.

"I want you to touch me." The words came out in a breathy sigh which abruptly turned into a sharp gasp when he circled her hardened nipple with the tip of his thumb.

"Please…"

Her plea stirred something in him - something primal and proud, echoing in her head and fueling the fire in the pit of her stomach.

He released one of her breasts - and she all but whimpered at the loss of contact - but only to gently grab her chin and tilt her head back enough to press his lips to hers while his other hand painfully slowly made its way down her body - brushing over her ribcage and over the smooth skin of her stomach.

He took his time, undoubtedly enjoying the way her breath hitched in her throat and the way she trembled in anticipation.

She allowed herself to melt further into his broad frame, feeling his own want pressing firmly against her back, but she knew that he was in no hurry to take care of it.

He ran his tongue along her bottom lip, slipping it into her mouth just as his fingers skimmed the soft patch of curls between her thighs and swallowing her strangled moan when he finally - finally! - covered the throbbing pulse between her legs with his palm, long fingers sliding into her wet heat…

[butchkaramazov]

feeling so proud of myself. like yes girl you wrote full-blown smut under the table in history class

[artificialbreezy]

ugh i’m just thinking so heavy about a hate fuck with Darius

CW: mean!darius, name calling, pet names, hate fuckin. bro it’s just porn sorry

NSFW under the cut ◡̈

his hand tangled in your hair, pushing your face into the table. “didn’t think i’d hear you, did you?”

his pace slowed down just enough to hear a small whine fall from your mouth.

“let me hear you say it. what’d you tell Alex?” his voice was laced with poison. he was angry, tired of you walking around hating him. when all he wanted was to fuck the attitude out of you every time you rolled your eyes at him.

“oh fuck off, didn’t say shit.” your voice was broken. overwhelmed by the stretch of his cock.

“oh no, you did baby. heard it with my own ears.” pulling himself out fully just to shove himself to the hilt.

“you said, “dude, Darius is such a fucking whore. just trying to find anything to fuck with. just over it.” what does that make you, huh? just another hole for me to fuck?”

he felt you squeeze him tighter, “oh fuck, you liked that. you like being just another whore for me to use. better fucking get used to it. not gonna deal with your attitude anymore. if all you needed was me to ruin this perfect cunt, could’ve just asked.”

[asirensrage]

3 or 12 for the yandere smut prompts. Murder husband or established couple, please. ❤️

Okay, so I need you to forgive me because I legit couldn't decide on who fit this best. It might be Billy and Grace though because I could see those two pulling something like this. Or! Billy and Isa. I listened to "Love is a Bitch" by Two Feet while writing the smut lol and I really like these two lines in this one shot.

Oh well, regardless, I hope you enjoy it. Thanks for participating!

Pairing: Billy Russo x Undescribed female character Rating: Explicit Warnings: suggested kidnapping. Unprotected sex. Unbeta'd ;)

To say she had better days was an understatement. 

Waking up in a room she doesn’t remember falling asleep in was the initial warning sign. Granted it was a big one, but it was the first clue that something was wrong. Thankfully, the door is unlocked and she isn’t about to stick around to find out. 

The hallway is empty and she creeps out slowly, listening carefully as she leaves. The hall is dark enough that she needs to keep a hand on a wall to help find her way. It’s then that she realizes her cell phone is gone. Whatever. That’s a problem for later. Right now, she needs to escape. 

Footsteps sound down the hall, making her freeze. She waits until she hears him open the door she just left and takes the chance to duck into the next door she touches. Thankfully it’s empty and she presses her ear to the door, holding her breath as she listens. 

“Sweetheart!” Billy’s voice echoes down the hall. “I didn’t think you’d wake up so soon.”

She doesn’t respond.

“Come on out. I promise it’s not what it seems.”

She doesn’t believe that for a second. She knows that voice. She slept with him last night, letting him buy her a drink before taking her home. It was clearly a mistake. One she wouldn’t make again. 

She waits until he heads down the hall, opening another door. She takes the chance to leave the room she’s in and makes her way further down the hall before hiding again in another room when she hears him come back into the hall. 

“I guess we’re playing then.” 

The game continues. 

He gets close a couple of times but the place is a maze and she’s not entirely sure she’s not lost. It doesn’t matter. As long as he stays behind, and she gets out, she’ll win. She just needs to make sure he doesn’t find her first. 

“How many fucking doors does this place have?” she mutters to herself.

“I hear you,” he calls out. 

She ignores the taunt. 

“Come on, sweetheart. Haven’t I promised I would take care of you?” 

She doesn’t remember that. 

“Haven’t I made you feel good? Let me continue. Let me show you everything I can offer you.” 

It’s tempting. She knows by his tone that he’s serious and she remembers the last night they were together. Still, it’s not enough to stop her. 

She thinks she’s getting close to the end. She has to be. 

One of the doors is locked and the doorknob rattles when she tries it. There’s no light shining underneath so she moves on, praying it’s not nighttime outside and she didn’t notice. There’s a door at the end of the hall. She hears him getting closer and she takes the chance. She runs.

Footsteps pound on the ground behind her. Her fingers wrap around the doorknob as she shoulders it open. Light spills into the hallway, silhouetting her. Before she can move further, a hand closes around her mouth as an arm loops around her waist, yanking her back. The door closes in front of her. 

Lips press to her ear as he whispers, “Found you.” 

She shivers at the feeling. “I almost made it.” 

“Almost,” he agrees before pressing his lips to her neck. He kisses the skin softly. “Ready to come back?”

“If I say no?”

“I guess I’ll have to convince you…” He turns her, pushing her back against the wall. His lips are on hers, kissing her deeply. Her arms move, wrapping around his neck and drawing him closer. She likes him like this, even if it’s a game neither of them should be playing.

His kisses are desperate, as though he suspects that given the chance she really will leave, that she’ll get tired of him. She doesn’t think that will ever happen. 

She scrapes her nails gently against the nape of his neck and he pulls away from her just enough so he can brush his lips against her cheek before kissing a path down hers. 

Her breath hitches as he presses closer, providing her with more warmth than she thought possible. She didn’t realize she had been so cold until now. His hands slide under her shirt and she closes her eyes, leaning back as she focuses on the feeling. He leaves goosebumps in his wake and her stomach flutters at the promises she knows he’ll keep. 

When he kneels before her, helping her out of her clothes, he looks up like he’s ready to worship. She can barely see him in the dark, but there’s just enough light from the crack of the door to illuminate his devotion. 

Her hands dig into his hair when he guides one of her legs to rest on his shoulder. He holds her weight, keeping her steady, even as he buries his face between her legs. She reaches a crescendo under his familiar touch with startling ease. He’s tasted her a thousand times and every one he feasts as though it’s his first. 

Billy keeps her standing when her legs threaten to give out on her as she breaks, murmuring praises against her skin. He moves slowly, standing back to his feet and kisses her again. And again. 

“Gonna let me treat you right?” he asks softly. 

“You already do.”

He laughs at that, a low chuckle that makes her stomach clench. “Let me feel you.” 

She doesn’t bother answering, not with words. She unbuttons his pants, pushing them down and freeing him before hooking a leg around his waist and pulling him close. She eases his way in with a guidance that burns both of them in its familiarity. No matter how many times she’s felt him, it never gets old. 

He holds her against the wall, keeping her pressed back on it with every thrust. She clings to him, nails digging into his back as she tries to hold herself up, to keep pace with him. He overwhelms her though. He always does. 

His hands press bruises into her skin as she draws blood from his. Their kisses are hungry and desperate as they turn relentless in their pursuit of their pleasure. 

She bites on his neck, trying to keep herself from crying out when she reaches the brink and is thrown into her orgasm. 

He swears as his grip tightens and his pace increases. The overstimulation turns nearly painful before his hips stutter and he presses her tighter against the wall, as though he’s trying to etch himself into her skin. They both struggle to catch their breaths.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice quiet in the dark.

“Yeah,” she answers, smiling softly. He pulls out before lowering her slowly to the ground. “Where did you find this place?”

“A friend of a friend. You weren’t too scared waking up alone, were you?”

“A little but once I heard your voice, I knew what it was.” 

His hand brush back her hair, one curling at the back of her neck as he kisses her again. “Have I told you how much I love your trust in me?”

“As often as I tell you I love our games.”

Billy laughs at that. “You really thought this was all just a game? Darling, my love for you goes far deeper than you could even imagine.” 

“Good.” 

[wonyopout]

you can’t b a gay freak on divetwt or they will jinja kill you

[sage-is-in-fact-very-tired]

you all will make me write fic 69 spitefully, I see. (/lh)

[soupandsorcery]

I am so torn on romance for Mags! I'm going based on vibes, and it's so hard to pin down what would be best.

I was pretty sold on Emmrich because it does seem like a very Mags thing to end up with a necromancer, and they both share a curiosity for the Fade and magic and everything. Plus he's got that hot soft dom thing going on that Mags is going to be feral for once he works out what it all means.

But then fucking Lucanis keeps turning up and reselling me on him! There's just something about the idea of Mags belonging to Lucanis and Spite that I really, really like. Not sure how much of that will be in the game (probably none) and how much I'll have to create with headcanons and smutty fanfic, but I am here for it.

So here I am, trying to make a decision.

[beastsovrevelation]

Anyone want Crowley x Readers? Or War x Readers? I don't know how long I'll take to start uploading my WIPs, and I don't like to not upload. Female Reder. Both male and female Crowley (not at the same time). War'd be... Herself.

What are you saying? I'm procastrinating? Why, ✨yes✨, how did you know? On my WIPs, original works, and papers for uni.

[bluelolblue]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @tobytheeggo

I wish you all the best for your birthday! I really enjoy talking to you and being silly with you :3. I'm sooo glad I got to meet another Santino (and Riccardo) enjoyer, like that's really rare, and you're just so silly and fun and amazing! We're far away from each other, but it's like we share the same brain cells most of the time HEHEHE! I hope all your wishes and dreams will come true and continue being amazing and slaying every day! 💙🩵💙🩵

I appreciate you a lot and I made this fic for you as my little gift for you! :3

It's Santino x Chidi because YES! I hope you'll like it <3 🩵💙

Early Mornings

Everything seemed so peaceful and warm, not a sound other than soft breathing. And it seemed too good to be truth. Living life in constant rush and danger of getting killed is exhausting. A good sleep feels almost unreal.

Until... waking up to a high pitch beeping noise.

Santino groaned in frustration, burying his face into the pillow and pulling the heavy silk sheets over his head, waiting for the sound to be shut off.

Chidi reached for his phone to turn off the alarm. It was 5 am. Just like every morning. Being a bodyguard means getting up at 5 am every morning because that's your job. Protect rich, powerful people. Although, in this situation, Chidi is not Santino's bodyguard. He is Vincent's bodyguard. Santino's ex.

"What time is it?" Santino muttered tiredly, now lying on his stomach as he hugged the pillow, still not opening his eyes.

"5 am." Chidi replied, his voice a bit husky in the morning. Santino sighed into the pillow, finding all this too difficult to handle at 5 fucking am.

"Are you insane?" Santino asked, finally opening his eyes enough to glare at Chidi, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, his back facing him.

Ah. His back. It almost looked like the red scratch marks were painted, but they were indeed real and were left by this moody Italian. "Maybe I am. Not as insane as you, though." Chidi said, looking over at his shoulder with a small smirk.

Santino made another annoyed noise and turned over, pulling the sheets with him. "You know, my back still kinda burns." Chidi complained jokingly. Well, half jokingly. The scratches still burned a little. "You deserved it." Santino muttered.

"Did I?" Chidi asked, leaning over the bed to press a kiss on his lover's neck.

"Either go to the bathroom or stay here..." Santino said tiredly, but he let Chidi kiss his neck. "Oh, so you want me to stay after all, huh?" Chidi teased, admiring a love bite he had left on the Camorra prince. "You're just good in bed." Santino said, switching with some effort onto his back to cup Chidi's face and to press a lazy kiss on his lips.

He's still so tired. And sore from their night together.

"You were loud." Chidi said after the kiss, looking into Santino's beautiful, tired green eyes. He looked even more handsome like this, with messy hair, sleepy eyes and still exhausted. Santino hummed and smiled halfway, one hand tracing down the scratch mark. "And you were so stubborn." Santino said, slightly digging his nails into the marks to tease him.

"You liked it. Loved it even." Chidi pulled back with a soft chuckle. He was not gonna let Santino have his way now. At least not at 5 am. Santino hummed again and turned into a small groan as he tried to stretch. He's gonna feel this for a week, if not longer. Week if he's lucky.

"I won't be able to walk." Santino breathed out, sagging on the bed, looking up at the ceiling as Chidi made his way to Santino's luxurious bathroom. "You wanted it that way. Begged me for it as far as I can remember." Chidi smirked at him, leaning against the door.

"Shut up." Santino murmured and rubbed his face with his both hands.

Santino hates that he got woken up at 5 am, and he wanted to take a nap while he waited for Chidi, but now he couldn't.

In the bathroom, Chidi took a nice warm shower that helped him feel relaxed and relieved. And it felt so good on his scratch marks on his back. Santino can really get wild when he wants to. Or when someone drives him insane to that point.

The room was still somewhat dark which just made him sleepy again but just as he closed his eyes again to nap, Chidi returned.

"I have to go now before it gets too suspicious." Chidi said as he put on his shirt. "Not gonna stay just a little longer?" Santino teased, now lying on his side with a smirk and watching Chidi. "You know I can't do that." Chidi told him, knowing what Santino wanted.

"Mm... fine. It's too early for anything. You're just crazy like your fucking boss." Santino couldn't hold himself when he mentioned his boss. Vincent.

"Bodyguard's life, what can I say." Chidi was just doing his job really. Although, his job wasn't Santino last night but he's gonna keep that a secret. Because it is a secret.

How to make life more difficult for your toxic ex?

Sleep with his bodyguard.

Santino watched as Chidi put on his clothes, his tie, how he looked more serious again. Fuck. He looked so hot in that suit. Good thing Santino didn't tore it off him yesterday.

Just as Chidi got fully dressed and was ready to leave, Santino got up and tugged on his tie, face to face with the assassin. "Tell your boss to keep his distance... otherwise, I'll have to steal you again." Santino's voice made Chidi almost shiver. This soft, gentle, and attractive voice he used was enough to make him kiss him again.

Humming in agreement while kissing the Crime lord, his soft lips felt better than anything right now. "I will." Chidi said after the kiss, admiring him in this position.

No one really gets to see Santino this way. Relaxed, calm, submissive but still having control. It's rare but beautiful sight.

"Now go back to him like a loyal dog you are." Santino patted his shoulder, turning away with a smirk and getting into his bed. "It's almost 6 am, I want to sleep while I can." Ah, of course, Santino has to be a bit bitter in the morning.

"I'll see you again soon. Mr. D'Antonio." Chidi gave him a smile and nod before opening the door to leave.

Santino felt like he won. Sleeping with a bodyguard of his ex to spite Vincent. But still, Chidi is hot and so fucking good in bed. He barely stood up to hold his tie and kiss him, his legs and hips hurt. He's going to feel this for a long time.

Santino D'Antonio gets what he wants no matter what. Even things like this.

[lollybliz]

As 24 hours comes and goes, no land in sight, a single platform drifts slowly, almost within reach.

A familiar slab of wood, one you've looked to, and at times rejected and ignored, at times grasped with all the strength in your arms.

Here it is again, in our drifting, lost without the great ship ao3.

Google docs.

[asirensrage]

Cursed - Hanma Shuji Oneshot

Title: Cursed Rating: Explicit Fandom: Tokyo Revengers Pairing: Hanma Shuji x Kanae (undescribed oc) Warnings: Sex. Threats (well the threat of setting someone on fire). Swearing. Drinking. Smoking. Slight choking. Slight possessiveness? Word count: 5942 Summary: Kanae hates clubs but a chance meeting on the patio might change her mind...or at least make up for the disaster the night is turning into.

Notes: Unbeta'd. Originally I had planned for this to be Ran, but Hanma took over as I was writing it. I was inspired to finish the club scene I started writing by the anons who complained about writing "sex with cartoon people". Nothing like spite to inspire smut lol. I wasn't planning on naming the character but things got confusing with other unnamed characters hahaha. Also, I've never written Hanma before (except in a long fic I'm working on that's unshared). Regardless, I hope you like it.

She hates clubs. 

They’re packed with too many people, the drinks are overpriced and someone is always touching you. It’s never anyone you want either, it's always the creepiest men who seem to emerge from the cracks in the walls to infest the dance floor. And yet…Kanae’s here.

She wishes she was in bed. It’s 10:30 at night and they manage to get in without waiting too long because they had been put on a guest list by a friend of a friend. Apparently, her cousin is the DJ for the night. Kanae didn't entirely believe her, but she doesn’t have to wait in line for hours so she isn't complaining. Especially when she is dressed in an outfit she didn't even get to choose. She bit her tongue and kept her remarks to herself though. It is Kira’s friend’s birthday and Kira picked out the skirt and top Kanae’s in. That didn't mean she could stop herself from fidgeting and trying to ensure her ass isn't showing every time she moves.

"A couple hours," she mutters as she follows the group to the bar. "Just a couple hours and I can go home." Someone hot and far too sweaty leans into her. She grimaces and shoves them away, picking up her pace and wiping off the remains of their perspiration. Gross.

"What do you want to drink?" Kira shouts at her when she finally gets the bartender's attention.

"Vodka tonic!" It's an easy drink and one that no one will really notice when she switches it for water later. Kanae won't have to deal with them realizing she’s not drinking as much. It's not ideal but she prefers someone keep their wits about them and make sure they all get home safely.

She sips at it when it's handed to her, passing over some money as she takes it. It's probably not enough based on the vibe of the place but Kira doesn't say anything. If she needs to pay more, they’ll deal with it another day. Now isn't the time, especially when they can barely hear each other over the thump of the bass.

Once everyone has their drinks, she’s shuffled to the dance floor. She’s not close to the others and finds herself on the outskirts of the group as they dance. Whatever. It’s fine. She closes her eyes and loses herself in the music. The bass vibrates through the air and she practically feels it replace her heartbeat. Regardless of who she’s here with, at least she can dance. 

She enjoys it, smiling at the others and letting herself relax to the music…until someone’s hand touches her waist. It’s not uncommon, especially in a place like this when she lets herself relax, but it’s not welcome. She turns to get a look at the person touching her, removing their hand and shaking her head. She thinks she can hear someone laughing behind her, but she ignores it, making sure the man doesn’t touch her again. He tries, but after she pushes him back, he retreats. 

She turns back to the group she’s with. A couple of them have disappeared, including Kira, and she’s left with strangers she recognizes from the group. They smile, but they mostly focus on dancing with each other, shifting subtly to exclude her. She’s not sure if they mean it or not, she doesn’t know them well enough to judge, but she takes the hint anyway. She leaves, heading for the bathroom, or at least outside to get some air. Whichever she finds first. She keeps an eye out for Kira but the mesh of bodies pressing together mixed with the strobe lighting makes it near impossible to make anyone out at this level. 

The bouncer at the door tells her if she leaves, she has to wait in line again, but that there’s an outside patio back the way she came. She considers leaving, but she should at least find Kira and make another appearance. At least while Kira’s still sober enough to remember her being there. 

“Thanks,” she tells the bouncer and heads back inside. 

She just needs a minute. 

A minute to herself before she dives back in trying to find her friend again and being faced with the girls they came with. It’s nothing against Kira, but the group has turned out to be a bunch of bitches. 

Kanae managed to find them again by sheer luck, shoving her way to them back on the dance floor. Kira hugged her tightly before swaying with her, trying to get her to dance. She stumbled, still unused to the heels she was forced in with the additional weight and force of Kira, and bumped into one of the birthday girl’s friends. Kanae apologized for it and the girl smiled back and waved her off. Not even a minute passed before the same girl bumped back into her, this time spilling part of her drink on her. Luckily it missed most of her outfit, splashing mainly on her shoes, but the smile on her face was clearly fake and her friend next to her laughed. 

Kanae took a deep breath, trying to stay calm before she left for the bathroom to clean herself up. It didn’t take too long. One of the strangers in the line offered her a couple of napkins from her purse and told her there was seating on the same patio the bouncer told her about. It’s a sad state if the strangers in line at the bathroom were nicer than the people she came with. She gave the girl a smile and thanked her for the napkins before making her way outside. 

Which is where she is now. 

She’s not exactly hiding, even if she’s sitting on one of the benches alone and fairly certain that none of the others know where she is. Her phone is silent so it’s not like anyone is looking for her yet. She ignores the few others on the patio, taking the time to carefully wipe off any of the remaining liquid from her feet and shoes while trying to make sure she’s not accidentally flashing someone.

“What a bitch,” she mutters. 

“The shoe?” 

Kanae looks up at the voice. One of the people who had been here when she walked in is standing before her. He seems incredibly tall but she’s sitting and bent over so she’s not inclined to fully believe her eyes. He is handsome, even if he’s smoking and looking a little overdressed in a suit. Who wears a suit to a club?

“Yes,” she says, completely deadpan. “You know how it is, put on a cursed shoe and have to deal with it trying to bleed on you.” 

He grins, not at all put off by her attitude. A small breeze blows, cooling the sweat that’s still on her skin and wafting over the smoke of his cigarette and the scent of his cologne. It’s a strange mix but not a bad one. “Did you know it was cursed before you wore it?”

She stares at him, unsure if he’s completely serious or actually willing to play along with her. “You know what?” she says, slipping her heel back on and putting her foot down. “I didn’t. You see, the first one I put on was fine, but the second? Cursed.”

“Did you buy them from a witch?”

“They were a gift actually. Should have been the first warning sign.”

He laughs at that before crouching down so that he’s at her eye level. His hair is a mix of blond and black, styled to the side. “So what really happened? It’s too clean to actually be blood.”

“It’s still early,” she mutters, thinking of the girl who purposefully spilt her drink. 

“It is,” he agrees. 

Kanae meets his eyes which seem to shine in the low light. There’s something dangerous about him. She can’t place it, but there’s a warning sign blaring in the back of her mind telling her she should tell him she’s not interested. It might be the tattoos she can make out now that he’s closer or the long earring that hangs off of one ear. She bites at her lip, considering if she wants to answer him. She shouldn’t, but in the last five minutes he’s been more interesting than the rest of the night put together, and honestly, she’d rather have this excuse than have to go back inside. Maybe she should just go home. 

“Well?” he asks again, taking a drag of his cigarette. 

“Someone spilt a drink,” she admits. 

“On purpose?” 

“Depends.”

He’s trying not to smile, but he raises his eyebrows waiting for her to elaborate. “On?”

“Whether I believe her apology or smile.” She sighs and closes her eyes for a moment, feeling the way the bass vibrates through the floor. She opens them when she feels the man in front of her move. He stands back up on his feet before sitting down next to her. His thigh presses into hers as he turns to face her. “Was it your drink?”

“No. Hers.”

“Was she jealous?”

“Of what? My two left feet?”

“Thought you were cursed.”

“I am. Unfamiliar heels, an outfit I didn’t choose and a birthday for a friend who’s not even mine? Sounds like a curse to me.” 

“Hmm,” he leans a little closer as he flicks his cigarette away. “Want me to break it?”

“And how are you going to do that? A kiss?”

He grins. “Do you want one? Or do you want revenge?”

“Revenge?” She blinks, suddenly far more interested. “How would I get revenge?” 

“With me.” He stands and offers one of his hands. “Come.” 

“Well, when you ask so nicely, how can I resist?” she drawls, taking the time to fix her shoes out of spite. She looks up at him. “You haven’t even introduced yourself.” 

“Neither have you.”

She presses her lips together, weighing her options, but the desire to find out what type of revenge he meant wins. She takes his hand. 

“Good,” he nods. He easily lifts her to her feet, nearly sending her stumbling forward into him. His arm wraps around her waist, steadying her. He is definitely taller than her, even in her heels. “Careful.”

“Maybe you should be more gentle.”

“Not my style,” he tells her. He moves, keeping a hand on the small of her back as he guides her back inside. He laughs as he watches her nose scrunch up at the wall of noise that greets them as he opens the door. 

“I have to find them!” Kanae yells, trying to get him to hear her. He motions for her to follow him, leading her up a slightly hidden set of stairs that were blocked by a guard. The guard lets them pass, nodding to the man guiding her. She frowns but follows.

At the top of the stairs is what can be considered a VIP area. It’s large and open but somehow slightly quieter, the music dimmed by the glass that sections them off from the main club. She wonders how she didn’t see it when she was looking around as they first arrived. There are others in the area and they seem to perk up as she’s walked in. 

“What do you want to drink,” he asks, leaning down so his lips are by her ear.

“Vodka tonic,” she says, already planning on not drinking it. 

“Go find your friends,” he motions to the window. He leaves her, greeting others and heading to an area she assumes is where they get their drinks. 

She ignores it, walking towards the window. The people look smaller and it’s almost impossible to catch sight of her friends except for the way the dress the birthday girl wore manages to sparkle in the light. They don’t even seem to notice that she’s gone. Figures. She should have left Kira to attend by herself. 

A hand touches her waist and she turns to see the man standing there, offering her the drink. It looks and smells like a vodka tonic, but she’s not that stupid. She pretends to take a sip.

“Thanks.”

He looks like he knows but he doesn’t press. “Find them?”

“There,” she points out the birthday girl. “See the sparkly dress? Just to the left of the bar and about five people away from it? She’s the birthday girl. There are maybe five of them plus Kira.”

“Kira?”

“My friend. She’s the one who asked me to come. She’s the blond next to the birthday girl.”

“Who dumped the drink on you?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know her name. She had short hair, like to her chin?” she motions to it. “Blue dress.” 

He nods before motioning to someone. She turns to look but her attention is redirected to the man beside her as he reaches out to touch her chin and turn her back to him. “Eyes on me.”

“Or what? Another curse?”

He grins at that. “You ever consider your luck? First a curse and now me?”

“Why? Are you the villain?”

“Not to you.” 

Her eyebrows rise at that turn of phrase. “Still don’t know your name.” 

He leans down, mouth pressing against the corner of hers, a mockery of a kiss. “Shuji. Hanma Shuji. You’ll want to remember it.”

“Oh?”

“Tell me yours.”

She gives it, watching the way his lips move as he repeats it back. She kind of wants to make him say it over again. His eyes seem darker in this light, but she’s not sure if it’s the room or the promises that fill it. 

“Oi!” Their attention is pulled from each other by the voice that calls out. “You gonna introduce us?” One of the others in the room is standing, looking toward them. He’s not as tall as Hanma but his grin is just as sharp.

“No,” Hanma says. “But she has friends.”

“I don’t know if I’d call them friends,” she mutters more to herself than anything. 

His grip on her waist tightens as she hears familiar voices chattering and getting louder. That was fast. He turns her towards the entrance and she follows, letting herself sink in further against him as the group she came here with is escorted in. 

“There’s the bitch,” he murmurs in her ear as they all arrive. She snorts and instantly covers her mouth, trying not to laugh. The other girls look around impressed but Kira manages to see her first and breaks away to come towards her. 

“Hey! I was looking for you!”

Kanae raises her eyebrows. “You were?”

“Yeah, they said you went to the bathroom.” Kira nods back to the others who are giggling and trying to look like they belong. “Looks like you got off track.”

She grins at that because Kira, for all her obliviousness when it comes to her friend groups, is still a good friend and one of the few people who gives her the same snark back. “Just a bit. I went out to the patio and ended up meeting Hanma. He brought me here.” She nods at the man next to her who still hasn’t let go. 

“Couldn’t let her hide and leave, now could I?”

Kira looks at him, slightly suspicious. “Leave?”

“Yes,” he says. “Said a friend dropped a drink on her. Ruined her night.”

“I didn’t say that!” 

He yanks her into him, causing her to stumble. “No? Wasn’t that why I found you wiping off your heels?”

“Stop causing problems,” she says, scowling at him.

He leans down and grins. “I haven’t even started yet.” 

Kanae’s saved from responding when the rest of the group seems to realize she’s there and close with one of the men in the room. The other men haven’t come near yet, sitting together and watching the events of this group of women encroaching on their space. 

“We thought you left,” the birthday girl says as they reach them. 

“No, not yet.”

“I stole her. Sorry,” Hanma says, not sounding apologetic at all. “How are you enjoying the club?”

“It’s wonderful,” the girl who spilt the drink on Kanae says, smiling widely at him. “It’s one of my favourite clubs. My cousin’s DJing tonight.” 

Oh, Kanae thinks. So it was her that got them on the guest list. Of course it was. 

“That right?” Hanma asks, letting go of her to pull out another cigarette. He smirks at the expression on Kanae’s face but it doesn’t stop him from lighting it. “Hold this for me.” He hands her his lighter. 

She frowns but takes it, hand wrapping around the cool metal. 

He looks back at the women she came here with. “You girls want something to drink?” He leaves when they agree and she finds herself quickly surrounded by Kira and her friends. 

“How do you know him?”

“He’s hot! Where did you meet?”

“Do you know who he is?” 

The last question captures her attention. “What?” 

It’s the birthday girl who asked, looking surprisingly serious for the moment. Kira looks just as confused as she is. 

“He’s the–”

“Here you are!” she’s cut off by his return. He motions for a waitress who followed him to hand out shots. “I got shots, hope you don’t mind, to celebrate. It’s your birthday, right?” he motions to the birthday girl. She looks surprised that he knows but nods as she takes it. They’re handed out to everyone and the girls all cheers and wish the girl a happy birthday. 

Kanae uses the moment to set down the vodka tonic she’s not drinking but takes the shot and follows along. It burns the back of her throat and she regrets it as soon as it settles in her stomach. She hands back the shot glass to the waitress, but the woman doesn’t leave once she has them all. Hanma takes the last glass on the tray before motioning her to go. It’s larger than even her vodka tonic. 

His eyes meet hers as he stands behind the group and her mouth drops open as she watches him raise the glass…and pour it on the head of the girl with the DJ cousin. The one who faked accidentally stumbling to spill her drink. 

The girl screeches and turns towards him. “What the fuck? Why did you do that?” Some of the other men are laughing but Hanma has yet to take his eyes off of her.  

“Go ahead,” he nods towards Kanae. “Light her up.”

“What?”

The girl bursts into tears and Kanae’s suddenly very aware of the warning the birthday girl was trying to give her, the same warning she ignored on the patio. The lighter in her hand feels ten times heavier with the expectation of his words. 

She doesn’t look away from him though, cataloguing everything she knows in the back of her mind as she crosses her arms. “Inside?” she asks, slightly incredulously. “That’s a terrible idea. She’d run and catch everything else on fire.”

His gaze burns into her as he moves forward, the group of girls parting as if they can’t get away fast enough. Kanae’s vaguely aware of the way they basically flee the area, and how the other men look towards Hanma but don’t stop them. Only Kira remains, hovering at the stairs, uncertain whether or not to leave her. “That your only concern?” 

“It’s one of them. A spilled drink isn’t enough to warrant setting someone on fire.”

“No?” He sounds a little breathless as he gets close, his chest nearly touching hers. “What is?” 

“I don’t know,” she admits. “Never had the urge before.”

“Not yet.”

“Not yet,” Kanae agrees. 

He leans down as his hand slips to the back of her neck. He tilts her head up to meet him, mouth slanting across hers, as his other arm loops around her waist and pulls her into him. She kisses him back. It’s easy with the way his hands grip her, holding her in place against him. The kiss deepens and she can taste the alcohol and smoke on his tongue.

His hand moves lower. Her breath hitches at the feeling of his fingers brushing the edge of her skirt, sliding under until she grabs his wrist to stop him from going higher. 

“Hmm?” He pulls back just enough to lay warm and wet kisses against her neck. It’s almost enough to distract her but her grip tightens when his hand tries to move again.

“Not here.”

He nips at her throat. “Fine.” His eyes meet hers as he moves back and she lets go when his hand finally moves from under her skirt. He doesn’t stop touching her. Instead, he moves to wrap an arm around her waist, guiding her back towards the stairs. Kira is gone. She barely gets a chance to think about where they went because she’s ushered out a door she definitely didn’t see before. It leads to a back entrance where there’s a car waiting. 

She knows this is a bad idea. Especially after what happened upstairs, but the way his hand stays on her, his body continuing to brush against hers, drives all rational thought out. 

She barely has a moment to settle herself in the backseat before he’s sliding in next to her. The only reason his legs aren’t cramped is because of the way the car is laid out, meant to provide more space in the back. He grabs her before she can find her seatbelt, pulling her with ease onto his lap. 

Her skirt rides up as she straddles him but he doesn’t give her a chance to think about it. Instead, his mouth is on hers again. His hand slides up the back of her shirt, warm against her skin as he presses her closer. 

His other hand tightens around the back of her neck, as though he can control the kiss and keep her there. He kisses her like he’s threatening to devour her, to consume everything that she has while making it worth her while. It’s easy to lose herself in it, to forget the way he wanted her to set someone on fire because they spilled a drink on her. The promise of revenge, of humiliating someone who was purposefully cruel to her, makes the taste of him addicting. How rare is it to have someone who can keep up with her, to help her even if it’s in an unconventional way? The thought of it helps her choose to rock her hips against his, to chase the pleasure that sparks down her spine. 

His grip tightens, thumb on her neck digging into her pulse point. The strength of his hands is enough to make her shiver. His hand on her back moves lower, guiding her to rock against him. She can feel him hardening under her, even in his suit. She moves one of her hands to grip the lapel of his jacket and the other digs into his hair. He groans into her mouth, bucking up against her. She whines in return. It’s not enough. 

The car stops. 

Neither of them notice, not with the way he’s trying to burn himself into her, how she’s trying to press closer to chase herself off of a precipice. It’s only when the driver knocks that they pull apart. 

Kanae tries to catch her breath. He shifts, moving her off of his lap and adjusting himself before checking to see if she’s slightly presentable. She pulls her skirt back down, aware of the way he’s watching her, before nodding. He gets out first, offering her a hand. She takes it, allowing him to pull her up with ease before his hand is back on her. The warmth of it seeps through her clothes to her skin. 

She’s led past more security to an elevator. The doors barely even close before he’s kissing her again. Her back is pushed against the cool marble as he presses himself into her. She feels impossibly small but she’s not threatened. Not even when his teeth nip at her lips before moving across her cheek and down her neck. He sucks and bites at her skin, soothing the burn with his tongue before doing it again. She thinks he’s trying to mark her, not that he needs to. It’s not as though she’s about to forget this night. Still, her hand is back in his hair, nails scraping gently against his scalp. His thigh moves between her legs and he pulls her closer to him until she’s almost perched on his leg. She can’t stop herself from rocking against it, searching for the delicious friction she knows it can provide. 

The elevator door opens. She doesn’t get a chance to move. He lifts her, hand on her thigh and guides her to wrap her legs around his waist. He kisses her again. 

She doesn’t know how they get into his apartment. Lights come on as he walks through, hand on her ass and still carrying her with ease, but her focus is only on the man still kissing her. She breaks it to scrape her teeth against his jaw, enjoying the way he falters slightly. 

“Fuck,” he mutters before finally letting her go. Her body drags against his until her feet are on the floor. His hands are pulling at her shirt, lifting it above her head and throwing it off to the side. Her bra follows just as fast. He cups her breasts, thumbs brushing against her nipples like he’s done it a thousand times before. She bites back the moan, watching as his eyes seem to darken further. 

“On the bed,” he nods towards her. She glances back, taking in the large bed that’s made and how it sits with the headboard pressed up against the wall. It’s neat and organized, completely contrasting the chaos she knows he inhabits. Kanae takes the chance to unzip her skirt, letting it fall and she kicks off her heels before she sits on the edge of the bed. 

Hanma has already tossed his suit jacket on a chair and she finds herself fascinated by the way that he moves. The shirt is unbuttoned, showing the muscles she felt when she was pressed against him. It’s different to see it though. 

He grins as his eyes meet hers, realizing she’s watching him. He kicks off his pants once they’re undone and she finds herself scrambling back on the bed as he stalks forward once naked. His hand, the one tattooed with punishment, grabs her ankle and yanks, pulling her back towards him. 

“Not running from me now, are ya?”

“Where would I go?” she asks softly. He leans forward until she’s lying back on the bed and he’s above her, holding himself up with one arm. 

“Where indeed?” 

The hand on her ankle trails up her leg, callused fingers scraping against soft skin and leaving goosebumps in its wake. She keeps her eyes on him, slightly breathless as his fingers reach her inner thigh. The anticipation is killing her. Amusement glints in his eyes because he pulls back, moving his hand to her hip and sliding it up. It feels encompassing and yet not enough.

“Are you going to touch me?” she asks, trying to bite back the way she wants more. 

“I am touching you.” He lowers himself, pressing closer against her. The weight of him is comfortable but not enough. She opens her legs, hooking one around his waist to guide him closer. “Want more, princess?”

“Well if you can’t handle it, I can take care of myself.”

He laughs at that before the hand that was tracing nonsensical patterns against her skin holds her throat and his grip tightens. “Careful what you say to me, princess. Might take you up on that. You want me to take care of you?”

She nods, a strange mix of fear and exhilaration coursing through her. He’s not hurting her, but the point is made. 

“Ask me, baby. Beg.”

“Please,” she sounds breathless, but he’s rocking his hips against hers in a slow torturous motion. “Please, Hanma.”

“Gotta say my name, Princess. Do it right.” 

“Shuji, please.”

“Hmm?” he leans down, nose brushing against her cheek. “Please what? Use your words.”

“Please, Shuji. Fuck me.”

He kisses her hard. Her hands run over his shoulders, holding him close as he presses closer. When they break for air, as she kisses his cheek, his jaw, anything she can reach, he nips at her neck again before shifting and going lower. 

Her breath catches in her throat at the feeling of his mouth encompassing a nipple. He drags his teeth over it before soothing it with his tongue. Her hand grips the back of his head to keep him there. His hand moves between her legs, trying to slip under her underwear before getting frustrated. She feels the way it pulls before hearing the rip and realizing what he’s done. 

“Hey!” her protest is diverted as he sucks hard. It turns into a whine, and the thought of her destroyed underwear is quickly shoved to the back of her mind when his fingers move between her legs. He shifts to give himself more room, pressing forward until he finds her clit. Her head falls back and she loses herself to the sensation of his mouth and hands. 

He presses his fingers into her, curling them, moving and adding another until she’s gripping his hair, her stomach tightens and she finds herself thrown off the edge into an orgasm. It’s the fastest that it’s hit and it leaves her breathless and almost in shock. 

Shuji moves back, taking the time to observe her. “That good?” He asks, grinning at her. She stares at him for a moment, confused at the way he seems to enjoy watching her fall apart. 

“Just a bit,” she breathes. 

“We’re not done.” He moves and pulls her with him until he’s lying on his back and she’s straddling his waist. “Well?” his hands rest on her hips. “Show me what you want.”

He’s almost insufferable but she can’t help but appreciate the way he makes his demands. She leans forward, kissing him gently before pulling back before he can deepen it again. “Condom?” 

He nods towards the nightstand and she tries not to roll her eyes at the fact that he has them stored there. How many other girls has he taken home? She shoves the thought out of her mind. It’s none of her business and it’s not like she’s sticking around to care. 

It takes a bit of maneuvering and she has to tear open the wrapper with her teeth, but she enjoys the way he groans as she rolls the condom on. She readjusts herself before pressing herself onto him. His grip tightens almost painfully and he swears under his breath. She has to remind herself to breathe as she sinks down. It’s a small kindness, she realizes, to let her adjust to him in this position. 

“Fuck,” she mutters. She rocks her hips slowly, revelling in the feeling of being so full, of knowing that he’s breaking because of her. It makes her moan seeing how he’s trying to hold back. She starts to chase the tension that is building back up. It’s too slow. 

He agrees because in moments, his hands are gripping her again, forcing her on her back before his arm is hooked under her leg and he’s pushing in again. His pace is steady but quick, he kisses her, demanding her attention even as her eyes close to the feeling of him. Her orgasm is fast approaching and all she can do is reach for him, trying to hold herself steady. Her nails dig hard into his skin but he doesn’t tell her to stop.

“So fucking good,” he says, leaning forward to push her legs closer to her chest. “Knew you would be.” She bites at his lip for that and he laughs before kissing her. She tastes blood but his pace increases and he moves until his fingers press against her clit. 

His touch is rough but the tension breaks and she tries not to scream, especially as it’s drawn out as he keeps going. His thrusts quicken, chasing his own release. One of his hands finds its way back to her throat. He holds her there, fingers pressing into the sides. Her eyelids flutter, the feeling increasing the remnants of her orgasm until his hand moves to the back of her neck and pulls her up so he can kiss her again. 

He groans into her mouth, hips stuttering against hers as he finally reaches his peak. He pulls back, just enough that his mouth is barely an inch away and they’re breathing each other’s air as they both try to catch their breaths. Her body feels as though it’s been electrified, sparks running under her skin where he still touches her. 

He slowly releases her leg, setting it back down, his hand running over it lightly before he pulls out. She feels the loss of him instantly, half wanting him back and half aware that she is exhausted. It’ll hit all at once. She knows that. 

She tries to force herself to sit up as he gets up and disposes of the condom. She mentally wonders what it would cost to get a taxi back. She has to contact Kira and find out if she made it home safely. 

“Here,” a wet cloth smacks her in the face. 

She grabs it, scowling at the man who stands before her, unashamed in his nakedness. It’s awkward now that it’s over. It always is. “You didn’t have to throw it.”

“You should have caught it.”

She decides not to comment back on that and instead takes the opportunity to clean herself up. She moves to the edge of the bed but before she can start, Shuji kneels before her and takes the cloth. She stares in stunned satisfaction as he carefully wipes up the remnants of their sex. It makes her breath catch with how sensitive she is. He throws it back towards the bathroom and stands. 

“Do you know where my phone is?” 

“Why?”

She tried not to look exasperated. “So I can call a cab and check on my friend.”

He laughs softly before he bends down so his face is in front of hers. “Who said we were done? Get up. I’ll pull off the top sheet and then you’re getting into the bed.”

“I am?”

“That’s right, princess. I told you, I’m not done with you.” He pulls her up and she looks up at him. She’s shorter without her heels and now he seems impossibly tall. He yanks the top layer off of the bed before pulling back the rest and nodding toward her. She turns towards it, looking at the way his bed now seems to suit him before wondering if she really wants to do this. 

A sharp sting on her ass makes her yelp as he smacks it. 

“Get in, Kanae,” he orders. 

She scowls but does. The sheets are softer than anything she has at home. 

He climbs in after her, pulling the sheets back up to cover them. His arm wraps around her and pulls her close. “Rest. You’ll need it.” 

“Yes sir,” she mutters sarcastically, already sinking into her exhaustion. She’s warm and comfortable. Whatever she wakes up to is tomorrow’s problem. Not today’s. 

“Hmm, could get used to that,” he teases.

“Not a chance.”

“We’ll see.” 

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