#the bar’s pretty low for me but i love it

[crackedpumpkin]

All Too Human (02)

| 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 | 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁

The advantage of being confined in the dungeons in an elven kingdom of another world you'd only read about in books, is that you didn't have a choice but to touch grass .

Figuratively, of course. The only form of grass you actually could find in your cell is damp moss. You'd recoiled from the grimy walls in the beginning, fingers itching for your phone, and your heart aching for your home.

Is this what it's like to go cold turkey without technology? you wonder, as futile as it seems when your hand meets the emptiness of your pockets each time. This sucks.

It’s probably around midnight, you guesstimate, as the dwarves are being shoved into individual cells. Your head tilts slightly when you hear a calm, boyishly charming voice speak up.

“Aren’t you going to search me? I could have anything down my trousers.” 

You suppress a cringe. Curiosity wins out over caution, and you step closer, eyeing the scene as the supposed heroes of the book voice their protests. A female elf stands in front of the cell to your left, staring down at one of the dwarves.

“Or nothing.” She smiles coldly, though a flicker of amusement passes through her gaze before she masks it in an instant. She turns, ready to leave. Your eyes meet hers, and a chill settles between you.

You’ve seen her before. Realisation dawns on you, and you snap your fingers. She’s the elf from the room you woke up in. The one Legolas likes. Well, Legolas and one of these dwarves. Fili, was it?

Either way, you feel nothing but pity for their little love triangle.

“You.” Her voice is devoid of warmth, eyes narrowing as she takes in your unusually clean appearance. You wave halfheartedly in response. She rolls her eyes and moves past your cell, paying you no mind.

Gripping the bars of the cell door, you watch her leave with Legolas. The elven prince glances back at you, brief concern flitting across his expression, before turning to follow her.

Even though you’ve tried to accept that one of your ( formerly ) favourite characters barely acknowledges you now, you can’t help but feel disappointed by his lack of empathy. He showed you concern at first, but over time it became clear that you were never of much importance to him anyway.

“Is there someone next to me?” The same charming voice calls out, his curiosity evident. Fili. You’re pretty sure it’s Fili that the elf has a situationship with. Ignoring his repeated question, you step toward the back of your cell, laying back down in the darkness with a sigh.

Minutes, maybe hours have passed since the dwarves were imprisoned, and the noise doesn’t cease. More cries of protest, vulgar swears (vulgar to them, but to you it’s like listening to a D&D party) , and lots of banging against their cell doors.

The one next to your cell seems to forget you’re even there, preoccupied by his daydreaming of the female elf, you suspect. What was her name again? You try to recall, feeling bad that her name hadn’t remained in your memory whilst the other two did. 

Tawny.

Her name is Tawny , you decide with a vague sense of uncertainty. 

Sleep feels as distant as the hot showers you’ve taken for granted in the past, but exhaustion pulls at you, demanding some rest despite the racket. You shift against the cold, hard floor, eyes drooping as you finally start to drift off.

But just as you’re about to fully pass out, a fresh wave of shouting erupts, this time more intense. Heavy footsteps approach, and a low, gravelly voice grumbles — almost growling — in defiance. 

You sit up, grogginess partially clouding your mind. Blinking to rid the sleep from your eyes, you watch another dwarf being shoved into the cell opposite yours. His gaze is dark, and his gritted teeth tell you that there’s more to him than meets the eye.

He had that main character energy about him. If you aren’t wrong, he might be the very dwarf in charge of the whole group. God, you really hope you aren’t wrong.

Metal clangs as he’s forced inside, and he slams against the cell bars with a ferocity that startles you fully awake. His deep, frustrated voice fills the air, hurling harsh dwarvish insults that echo down the corridor, stirring a chorus of support from the others. It’s as if his very presence reignites their determination.

You let out a long, tired sigh. 

Looks like you won’t be sleeping tonight.

Wrapping your arms around yourself, you lean back, hoping the noise will eventually quiet down. But with their leader riled up, the others become even more animated, pounding against their bars and shouting until their voices become hoarse.

Your patience is stretched thin, and with each clang of metal or shouted curse, it frays a little more. You start pressing your hands over your ears, even resorting to tugging up half the tunic to cover them, but nothing dulls the sound. 

Someone curses loudly enough that you jerk in your cell, biting back a groan. Eyes shut, you count to ten, then twenty, then thirty, promising yourself calm. But the noise only builds, louder and more grating by the second.

Something in you finally snaps. You raise your arm and slam it against your cell door, the metal clanging loud enough to cut through the noise. “I swear to God , if you guys don’t shut up for like, five minutes, I’m going to murder you myself.” The words hiss out louder than you intended, echoing through the dungeon like an accusation.

The dwarves fall silent, their protests cut off mid-sentence. You feel a dozen pairs of eyes shifting toward your cell, surprised, hopefully a little impressed even, by the venom in your tone.

Thorin, in the cell directly across from you, lets out a low, humourless chuckle. “Bold words for someone trapped in a cage of her own,” he says, his voice edged with frustration. He crosses his arms, leaning against the walls of his cell. His eyes are narrowed, studying your being as if assessing how much of a threat you are

“Oh, quiet as mice for hours, and she suddenly snaps,” another dwarf with a long white beard chimes in, his tone amused. “Can’t say I blame her, mind. Some of us have been… shall we say, louder than others.” He gives a pointed glance toward the dwarf in the cell beside yours (the one you’ve assumed to be Fili).

“Who’s loud?” The voice comes from the left, a thick layer of teasing in his tone. “I think she’s just upset because we’ve been better company than her.”

You blink, absolutely floored by the audacity. “Are you shitting me?” you fire back, incredulous. “Better company? I don’t even fucking know who you are.”

“Oh, but you do know us now, don’t you?” he quips back, undeterred. “And I’d wager I’m the most charming cellmate you’ve ever had.”

You scoff. “Perish in a ditch, I beg of you.”

His chuckle is warm and unapologetic, and you can hear the grin in his voice even if you can’t see it. “Maybe it’s for the best that we aren’t proper cellmates. I’d probably steal all your attention.”

If he kept talking you’re pretty sure you would’ve burst a blood vessel or something from frustration. Instead, you hang your head and mumble out another plea like for the love of God please shut up so I can get some sleep.

“Oh, aye, that’s one way to call it,” the kind dwarf from earlier mutters, laughing softly. “Maybe we’ve all worn on her nerves, eh? A bit of quiet might do us all good.”

With an exhausted huff, you mutter, “Honestly, you guys are like a D&D party with no volume control.” A beat passes before the cellmate on your right breaks the silence.

“What’s a D&D party?”

You’ve gotta be kidding me.

Exhaling slowly, exhaustion tinges each word that falls from your lips. “It’s…It’s nothing. Just, please let me sleep? It’s probably already three in the morning.” 

Your request doesn’t go unheard, and the dwarves begin to quiet down.

Laying back down on the cold floor, your eyes finally shut.

 — — — — — —

After your outburst from last night, you found yourself falling silent for the entire day. The cell door creaks open, the guard placing the usual tray of food down with a warning glare. You watch him leave with a scoff.

As if you had any energy to fight. They’d probably kick your ass in five seconds flat. Maybe ten, if you’re lucky.

“Where’s our food?” 

You glance over at the cell beside Thorin’s, the dwarf inside whose question draws your attention, and catch sight of a dwarf with a tousled hat perched messily atop his head. He has a friendly face, framed by a bushy beard that seems to bounce with every word that leaves him.

Now that you think about it, all three dwarves opposite you have long beards, obscuring the lower half of their face. Damn. They’d do great as before and after models for a razor commercial, maybe break a Guinness World Record while at it too.

You can’t help but notice how he leans against the bars, a grin spreading across his face. He falters when the guards walk past him without another word, leaving you to your meal. You choose to sit in the dimly illuminated area of your cell near the door, slowly chewing the coarse bread. 

Sensing someone’s gaze, you look up to see the dwarves across (excluding Thorin), their gazes fixed on the tray with a hint of hunger. You glance from the tray to them, uncertainty gnawing at your gut.

Should you?

On one hand, you knew perfectly well that they're the good guys. Technically the elves are too , you think, struggling to recall the twisted morals that Tolkien, that bitch, wrote about.

It's no wonder you couldn’t remember much. With the complexity of the world he built and the fact that you'd only been sixteen or so when you last read about Bilbo and his adventures, you probably would've died had you not recalled Sauron's name.

With a sigh, the decision is made. “Stick your hand out,” you say gruffly. Their eyes widen, but they follow your instructions, a mix of reluctance and hope in their expressions. You tear the loaf into three, keeping one for yourself.

Hollowing out the bread with your fingers, you fill it with roasted vegetables from a wooden bowl. The dwarves watch, curious about your next move.

Standing up, you pray your trusty aim hasn't grown rusty. Extending your arm through the bars of your cell, you inhale slowly before flicking your wrist. The first makeshift bun leaves your hand, plopping neatly into the palm of the white-bearded dwarf.

He beams, withdrawing his hand back into his cell. “Thank you, lass!” he calls out gratefully, munching down. The second dwarf is more eager now, catching the second bun you throw. His expression morphs into one of disgust when he sees the vegetables inside, only to hurriedly take big bites when he sees your glare.

You’d be damned if he tried to throw away the precious food you’d so kindly given them. With a satisfied smile, you flex your fingers, recalling the countless hours spent at the batting cages back home. Dartboards, too. Not exactly a common hobby you shared with your friends, but it gave you an aim you could trust, and a reminder of who you truly are.

“So lass, what brings you here to the dungeons of the woodland realm?” The kindness in the first dwarf’s voice prompts you to part your lips, only to pause when you see Thorin’s eyes set on you, waiting for your response.

You swallow. 

“Why should I spill my secrets to a bunch of strangers?” You reply dryly, drawing a chuckle from him. The memory of how you’d been treated when you’d started saying stuff about how you’re from another world makes you press your lips together in a thin line. Who’s to say they wouldn’t see you the same way they did?

“Aye, ye've got it right. I’m Balin, and this here is Thorin. The oaf who almost got all of us in trouble is Bofur.”

“I’m Kili,” the cellmate on your right chimes in. “And I’m Fili,” the other on your left adds. 

“Oh.” You blink. “Oh shit, I got you mixed up, huh. You’re the one who’s gonna have that whole thing with Tawny the elf.” You gesture aimlessly with the remains of your third of the loaf in your hands, shaking your head in sympathy.

“Are you talking about Tauriel?” Confusion laces his words. You mentally berate yourself for mixing up yet another character’s name, clearing your throat.

“Right. Tauriel. That’s what I said. It’s just my nickname for her. Like how Legolas is…Lego, and Thranduil is…” Your voice trails off, racking your brains to come up with a suitable nickname. 

“Is?” Fili prompts. 

“A bitch.” You refuse to elaborate, disdain flitting across your face. Bofur seems to catch it, raising his brows in intrigue. 

“Now that we’re acquainted, how is it that a fair maiden like you ended up in this dungeon all alone?” Kili asks. 

The more you got to hear him speak, the more you have an inkling as to how Tauriel had fallen for him in the first place. If he were back home, he’d definitely be a girl magnet, that’s for sure.

You let out a breathy chuckle, shifting to sit against the wall, knees slightly bent. “I didn’t exactly make a good impression on the king. Said a few things he didn’t like and mentioned a few things he wanted to keep private, and well,” you gesture sarcastically to the dungeon, “here I am.”

You glance at Thorin’s cell, half expecting him to have his back turned, lost in his brooding thoughts. Instead, piercing eyes meet yours, and it takes a moment to process that he seems genuinely curious about your story.

Now that you’ve got his attention, you’re unsure of what to say. Swallowing thickly, you weigh your options. You could reveal that you know their future now, but it wouldn’t be the best move. 

Most of them are still wary of you, and suddenly saying stuff like hey, I know all about your super secret quest that you wanna keep under wraps and I know the dragon’s going to wake up is sure to earn you a one way ticket to Hell, or whatever the equivalent is here.

Before you can say anything however, the atmosphere shifts, a sudden tension in the air. Thorin’s expression which was once indifferent is now wary, eyeing you with newfound suspicion. “It still doesn’t explain what you’re doing all the way out here. You’d have had to pass through Mirkwood and survive.”

Your throat suddenly becomes dry. Flexing your clammy hands, you stare down at your lap. “I don’t know either,” your voice comes out soft, unintentionally revealing the vulnerability beneath the bravado you’d exhibited the night before. “I just woke up in there one day, and one of the elves saved my life. Since then, I’ve been imprisoned here after the audience with the king.”

Thorin's eyes narrow as if he’s searching for something in your expression. “And what is your name, then? Where do you hail from?”

Before you can answer, Balin interjects, his tone light but firm. “Now, now, Thorin, let’s not frighten the lass. She’s been through enough, hasn’t she?” His voice is soothing, like a balm over the tense air that hangs between you and the king.

Thorin's gaze softens slightly. Balin continues, “She’s a visitor in a strange land, after all. No need for an interrogation when we could simply have a conversation instead.”

You take a moment to collect yourself, grateful for Balin’s attempt to ease the tension. Maybe a part of you has been desperate all this time for someone to talk to, otherwise you wouldn’t have given away your name this easily when he asks again. 

“I live in… well, a place far south of here. San Francisco, if you’ve ever heard of it.”

Thorin’s brow furrows in confusion. “San Francisco? Is that a town of men?”

“And women,” you correct. 

“Of course, women.” Every word that comes out of Kili’s mouth is sarcastic, eliciting an amused laugh from his brother. 

“Very funny,” you sigh, tilting your head back and staring at the ceiling. “Tell that to Tauriel tonight.” The only reason you’d remembered that they’d have a whole conversation was because you recall practically swooning at his romance. 

Looking back, however, you can’t help but recall how cringey their conversation would be about. Something about his mother’s treasure and the flirting…It makes you cringe. 

A moment passes before he speaks again, clearly flustered by the sudden callout. “What do you mean? How do you know if she’s coming or not?”

Before you can answer, footsteps that wander down the corridor halt right outside your door. Watching the guard you'd grown to recognise over the weeks, you wait with bated breath when he brings forth a singular key, unlocking your cell.

“You are to be transferred.” He speaks emotionlessly, eyes flitting over the dirt that stains your cheeks and hands filled with scratches from clumsy attempts at standing. “By his Majesty's orders.” 

“Where?” Caution is the only word that encompasses how you feel in the moment, filling every word. Your heart begins to race in your chest, much like the moment before you passed out after Legolas had rescued you from the spider. Why, out of all times would Thranduil give such an order? 

As your gaze meets Thorin's, it hits you like a sack of bricks being thrown at your stomach. He didn't want them knowing about the stuff you'd said. Even if his scepticism kept him from believing you, there must've been some part of him that doesn’t want his prisoner overhearing it. 

You look up at the guard, an odd sense of calm filling your chest. “Tell Thranduil that if he transfers me, I might just somehow let slip to the dwarves about the things I know.” 

It's a pathetic threat, really, but enough to make the guard hesitate. Uncertainty taints his gaze, though his firm hands grab you by the shoulders, throwing you near the exit of your cell.

“Didn't your boss tell you not to harm me?” You spit through gritted teeth. Now that you have confirmation about his intentions, courage bursts forth from an unknown place within you.

You're tired of being thrown about, tired of catering to his whim and reciting events you  barely remember like you’re back in school once again, forced to read a passage aloud in class when the teacher caught you sleeping.

Wiping your cheek with a bitter smile, you stumble to your feet. “Just let me take a bath while you relay this to him: I may not remember much, but what I do know will benefit those dwarves and allow doom to befall your people.” 

Since when did you start speaking so dramatically?

Maybe it's due to the time (unwillingly) spent with Thranduil that’s changed your vocabulary. The idea makes you grimace, hiding your disdain with a cough.

The guard's eyes narrow slightly as he processes your words. “You think I’m afraid of your threats?” he scoffs, though the slight tremor in his voice betrays his uncertainty. “You’re just a human girl trapped in a dungeon. What could you possibly know that would matter to the likes of us?”

He glances back at Thorin and Balin, who watch him intently. The tension in the air thickens, and for a fleeting moment, the guard seems torn between his duty to Thranduil and the possibility that you might hold some valuable knowledge.

“Fine,” he says finally, his tone grudgingly respectful. “I’ll pass on your message. But don’t think for a second that this will change anything for you. You’re still at his mercy.”

He steps back, still eyeing you warily. A sense of victory fills your grin, but it's quickly dimmed by the appearance of another guard. 

The new arrival, tall and broad-shouldered, takes a position directly in front of you, effectively blocking you from view of the dwarves in the cells around you.

“Keep her out of sight,” the first guard mutters under his breath, as if he’s already second-guessing your little threat. The second guard nods and shifts to your left, standing close enough that his form casts a shadow across your face.

Without sparing another glance at the dwarves, the guards flank you, one on either side. You can feel the weight of Thorin’s gaze, curious and intense, following you as you’re led away.

As you’re escorted down the winding corridors once again, reality starts to sink in. You just basically threatened a king, with nothing more than the vague knowledge that remains in your mind.

I’m so fucked, aren’t I?

— — — — — — 

The icy water that hits the bare skin of your shoulders makes you shiver involuntarily. Drawing your knees to your chest in the ornate bathtub, you stare at the soapy water that muddles your reflection.

You feel lost.

Days that had turned into weeks feels like an eternity. Has anyone back home even noticed you’ve gone missing? Numb to the freezing cold water being poured over your head once more, you state aimlessly at your hands. 

Once as smooth as a baby's arms, the skin of your fingertips are wrinkled and pruny, various tiny scratches on your palm from the tiny rocks that jut out from the floor of your cell. You’d grown used to them being there after the number of times you’ve collapsed from pure exhaustion after your workouts.

Your fingers trace one of the scars absently, following the jagged line like it’s a map that could somehow lead you home. The water laps against your skin, but the chill barely registers anymore. It’s as if you’re only half here, trapped in some distant limbo between two worlds. 

The first week, you’d clung to memories of the life you left behind. Your family, your friends, the hum of city life. Now, the details blur. You can hardly remember what your bedroom looked like, or the last meal you shared with someone. Every second in this place feels like another part of you drifting away, sinking into the fog that’s settled over your mind.

With a sigh, you let the water wash over you, hoping it will take with it some of the weariness weighing down your bones. You tilt your head back, closing your eyes as cold rivulets stream down your cheeks, mingling with the tears you hadn’t realised were there.

Salt hits your tongue upon licking your lips, carelessly swiping the back of your hand across your closed eyes. “Time’s up.” A female elf notifies coldly, handing you a towel before stepping aside. Even though Thranduil had granted you opportunities to freshen up properly, he still placed someone on guard to ensure you wouldn’t run away.

Squeezing out the excess water from your hair, you press the towel to your body. Once dry, you take the fresh set of clothes from the chair next to you, putting them on. The tunic and pants aren’t as nice or extravagant as the quality the other elves wore, but it’s more than enough to keep you comfortable. 

The walk back to your cell is silent, the same guards flanking you until the cell door opens and slams shut behind you once more. You sit back down onto the hard floor with a weary sigh, staring at your empty palm. 

Warm clothes, familiar streets, your own bed, your phone… God, what you’d give for even five minutes with that little touchscreen, just to feel something connected to home. Feeling a heavy gaze set in your direction makes you glance up.

Thorin’s hands are clenched around the bars of his cell. Weariness, suspicion, distrust…all of the above taint the air in an almost suffocating manner. “Tell me. What knowledge makes you so certain of your guaranteed safety?” 

Standing up with an air of defiance, your composed state quickly crumbles when he tightens his grip. “Not some I’d be willing to spill so easily with a simple question.” Right now, everything that you know is a card in your favour, something that you can leverage.

Whether or not he’d take the bait would be an entirely different thing.

Sure enough, he bites. 

“And it is beneficial to us, you mentioned? Yet, Thranduil does not seem to care for your value.”

You cross your arms, trying to match his intensity despite the tight knot forming in your chest. “Maybe because he doesn’t know the half of it. Not everything I’ve got is common knowledge, Thorin Oakenshield .” The name comes out almost mockingly, the false bravado backfiring when you spot the tensing of his jaw.

“Then enlighten me,” he snaps. His voice is low but charged with frustration, eyes narrowing as if trying to strip away every layer of your defiance.

Your lips twist into a humorless smile. “Funny. That would kind of defeat the whole ‘leverage’ thing, wouldn’t it?”

Thorin’s knuckles whiten as his grip tightens. “Leverage? So that’s what this is to you — a game of manipulation? I’ve seen the likes of you before, always spinning words, always hiding behind secrets. What do you gain from this?”

“Because sitting around and doing nothing isn’t an option!” you snap back, pushing yourself up from where you’ve been sitting and stepping closer to the bars of your own cell. “Do you think I asked for any of this? I didn’t. I didn’t choose to be dragged here, or into your mess. But here I am, and like it or not, I’m trying to survive.”

His eyes narrow, suspicion clouding his expression. “And yet, here you stand,” he says coldly. “Unharmed, unbound. Thranduil doesn’t waste cells on anyone he deems unimportant, and you seem perfectly content to keep whatever use you have to him a secret.”

Your fists clench tightly, the sharp edges of your unkempt nails pushing past skin and drawing blood. “Do you think I’m ‘safe’ in here, Thorin?” you retort, your voice rising. “That bastard of an elf king is only tolerating me because he doesn’t know what to do with me. I’m as much a pawn to him as you are.”

“A pawn?” he repeats, his voice low but cutting. “No. Pawns are expendable. Whatever you are, he sees value in you — and until I know what that value is, I have no reason to trust you.”

“And you think I trust you ?” you shoot back, the words leaving your mouth before you can stop them. “You’ve done nothing but glare and be mean to me since the moment we met. You demand answers, but what guarantee do I have that you’ll listen?”

His jaw tightens, his glare hardening. “You want guarantees? There are none. Not in this world, and certainly not in these halls. If you think you can bargain with secrets and survive unscathed, you are either very brave or very foolish.”

“Maybe both,” you snap, your composure unraveling. “But what choice do I have? You think I’m holding back just to irritate you? Everything I know, everything I can’t tell you yet, is the only thing keeping me from being completely useless here. I have to play my cards carefully, bitch, or I lose everything.”

His hands tighten on the bars, his knuckles pale against the cold iron. “Then perhaps you’ve already lost. Trust isn’t earned with half-truths and riddles. If you cannot prove your worth, then why should I risk the safety of my company for you?”

“Because whether you like it or not, you’ll need me!” you fire back, the words tumbling out before you can temper them. “I know things you don’t. Things that could help you. But if you keep treating me like a threat instead of an ally, then maybe I’m wasting my time even trying.”

For a moment, the silence between you is deafening. Thorin’s glare remains fixed on you, unyielding, but there’s a flicker of something (doubt, perhaps?) that crosses his face before his expression hardens once more. The anger fades from your system as fast as it comes, leaving you emotionless and with a sickening lurch in your gut.

“You speak boldly,” he says at last, his tone like ice. “But words alone will not earn my trust. Actions will.”

You exhale sharply, leaning back against the cold stone wall of your cell. “Fine,” you mutter, though the bitterness in your tone is impossible to mask. “Then watch closely, Oakenshield . I’m sure you’ll have plenty of opportunities to judge my actions soon enough.”

He falls silent after that, perhaps having exhausted himself with a fight as petty as this. You can’t tell whether to take this as a win or loss on your end, fighting back yet another round of tears that threaten to spill. 

Exhaustion eats away at you. You’re tired of trying to tiptoe the line of survival, barely avoiding death. Yet, even though you weren’t exactly the most welcoming of people to him, you still need their help to escape in the end.

With that thought, you fall back into silence, staring at the wall aimlessly while the murmurs of the rest around you resume. 

— — — — — — 

It’s around a few hours later when everyone else is asleep, a shadow outside your door drawing your attention. Shifting your position, you tilt your head to see Tauriel in front of Kili’s cell.

“The stone in your hand, what is it?” Her voice is gentle, tinged with curiosity.

Oh no , you suppress another annoyed groan, it’s time. Kill me now . Why couldn’t they just let you be depressed in peace?

Kili speaks, his voice low. “It is a talisman; a powerful spell lies upon it. If any but a dwarf reads the runes on this stone, they will be forever cursed…”

You stifle a laugh behind your hands, the absurdity bubbling up. Sure, bro. Who wouldn’t want that as an opening line to flirt? You can’t help but smirk at the irritated frown Tauriel sends your way, almost making your laughter spill over.

Tauriel’s sharp gaze locks onto Kili, and you can’t help but press your lips together in an attempt to hide the ball of cringe in your chest at what you can sense coming next. “Or not... depending on whether you believe in that kind of thing. It’s just a token — a rune stone. My mother gave it to me so I would remember my promise.”

“What promise?” Tauriel asks, her interest piqued.

You can practically hear Kili’s casual shrug. “That I would come back to her. She worries; she thinks I’m reckless.”

“Are you?” Tauriel presses, her expression a mix of concern and curiosity.

“Nah—” His voice carries a playful lilt as he flips the rune stone lightly in the air, but you hear the slight thud as it skids across the floor, almost tumbling into a dark chasm. You suck in a sharp breath, half-expecting it to disappear forever. But Tauriel, quick as lightning, stops it, glancing at it briefly before handing it back to him.

“Sounds like quite a party you’re having up there.”

“It is Mereth e-nGilith — the Feast of Starlight,” Tauriel replies, her voice softening.

She hesitates, her gaze lingering on Kili. “All light is sacred to the Eldar, but Wood Elves love best the light of the stars.”

Killmenowkillmenowkillmenow-

You can hear Kili’s dismissive tone. “I’ve always thought it’s a cold light, remote and far away.”

Please. PLEASE. End me now.

It takes every ounce of strength not to gag. The cringeworthy flirtation unfolding just inches away makes you want to groan, but you know better than to draw attention. So, instead, you sit there, jaw clenched, enduring secondhand embarrassment that feels like it could kill you.

You try to tune them out, focusing on the tray of food that must’ve been placed by the corner of your door by the guard while you were dozing off. Their idea of “dinner” is bleak as ever: coarse bread, a few sad bits of carrot and something that might be green. You break the bread into pieces, hoping that taking it slow will make it somehow taste better.

A bite, a chew, a sip of water. This routine feels like a punishment, but it’s better than starving. You tear off another bit of bread, staring down at it with a sigh. What I wouldn’t give for grilled meat right now. Thanks to the elves and their “nature-loving, we-love-veggies” diet, you'd lost weight, replaced by some muscle from the exercising you'd done.

But then, in a hushed, dreamy voice, Kili says, “I saw a fire-moon once.”

And just like that, the crumb of bread lodges in your throat. Your hand flies to your mouth as you cough — loudly. So much for staying quiet. You thump yourself on the chest, trying to calm the wheezing fit, which only draws an annoyed look in your direction.

Desperation fills you the more you cough, spluttering through watery eyes as you try to dislodge the bread. “Are you alright?” You can barely process Kili’s concerned words, tinged with mild embarrassment when he realises that you’ve probably been listening in on their conversation while everyone else is asleep.

Screw his embarrassment, you’ve probably just ruined the whole romantic bit they had going on.

As your wheezing gets louder, you remember a trick you'd seen once from the instructor of your first-aid course. It’d been a mandatory class when you worked as a lifeguard at the public swimming pool, and the instructor was pretty chill.

Now that you think about it, you clearly recall choking on something as well before he helped, and taught you the self-Heimlich. You ball one hand into a fist like he’d shown you, place it just above your navel, and thrust it sharply upward, hoping that it works as well as they say.

Nothing. Your eyes are watering, your chest feels like it's on fire, and that stupid crumb is still lodged in your throat. Great. Truly amazing. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Tauriel watching, arms folded, face as blank as ever. She looks like she’s observing a particularly unremarkable bug flailing on its back.

“Oh, you — absolute menace ,” you choke out in a strangled gasp, more annoyed than desperate now. You always knew she wasn’t your biggest fan, but really? Letting you choke to death over here? You brace yourself, trying again; one last, undignified shove to your diaphragm.

With a spectacular sputter, the offending crumb finally flies out. You slump back down, chest heaving as you pant from the near-death experience you’ve just had. Surprisingly enough, you never thought you’d almost perish this way.

Beheaded? Yes. Speared? Possibly. Choke to death on stale bread? Never crossed your mind.

Kili’s voice drifts from his cell, tinged with genuine concern, "Are you alright?" You manage a weak grunt, swallowing what’s left of your dignity along with the reminder that your interference might come with unexpected consequences.

Tauriel turns and leaves without another word. Glaring at her retreating back, you point your middle finger at her, jabbing it at the air like a madman. A broken laugh falls from your lips when you realise what you’re doing, blinking away the tears that involuntarily form. 

Kili’s voice drifts out again, and there’s a nervous, almost embarrassed edge to it now. “I’m glad you’re alright.” He sounds like he’s trying not to laugh but is also genuinely worried, caught somewhere between sympathy and the awkwardness of knowing you were listening in on his whole starlit, heartwarming moment.

You throw him a thumbs-up you know full well he can’t see, still catching your breath. “Nothing a little willpower couldn’t fix,” you mutter, though you can practically feel his grin through the walls.

“Glad to hear,” he says, then, in a lower, almost conspiratorial tone, “Not the most graceful moment, but I won’t tell.”

You manage a half-smile he can’t see, and he chuckles softly, his laughter almost warm enough to take the edge off Tauriel’s cold indifference. 

 — — — — — —

It’s been close to a week since the dwarves were imprisoned, and you’d taken to playing a little game with Bofur dubbed as Pass thy Rock. Pure boredom had gotten the better of you, having carelessly fiddled with a stray pebble in your cell.

Bofur had gestured to you to throw it to him, and thus began a rallying of rock tossing you play with Balin, Bofur, and even the brothers that neighbour you. Balin had tried to get Thorin to join, but he simply ignored him.

He’s always either pacing the floor or brooding quietly, with the occasional slamming of his cell door as he demands for an audience with Thranduil. The elf king never granted his request, and ever since that day when you told the guard to pass on the message, he didn’t call on you either. 

You’re not sure whether to feel relieved or fearful of that.

“Don’t drop it too soon,” Fili chuckles, catching the pebble Balin tossed his way. He hands it to you with a grin, the smooth stone cool in your palm as you give it a thoughtful turn. It’s strange to think you’re really here, part of a story you once read about.

“It’s weird,” you find yourself saying, words slipping out before you can stop them, “I never really understood why people liked you all so much...until now.”

Balin hums, amused. “People, you say?”

“I didn’t realise we were that well known across Middle-earth,” Bofur adds with a chuckle.

You force a small smile, masking a pang of uncertainty. If only you could ask Gandalf for advice. Maybe he’d know of a way to get you home. But for now, it’s a waiting game, and with these dwarves for company, a part of you feels...oddly content.

“Guess you’re more famous than you thought,” you say, flicking the stone back to Balin with a smirk. So far, the only ones who know what you look like are the three opposite you, and truthfully? They’re much taller than you expected. Or maybe you’re just short. 

Balin catches it with a shake of his head, tossing it to Kili’s cell. You’re waiting for the pebble to be tossed once more, only to hear it clatter to the floor, the sound echoing in the quiet cell. A sharp hiss of pain echoes, and judging by the look on Balin’s face, it’s not hard to piece together what’s happened. 

“ Shit , are you okay?” You curse, fingers gripping the cell door tightly. Worry fills you, an unexpected consequence of the silly game you’d come up with. With the additional fact that you’ve no idea when they actually make their escape, panic flits through your body at the possibility it could be at any minute, even now.

“I’m fine.” His breathy chuckle does nothing to shake off the unease that gnaws at your gut. Relief is fleeting, and it dawns on you that this isn’t a world where doctors are aplenty, nor medicine or basic hygiene. 

“Give me your hand.” 

You can sense his amusement even through the bars. “How, exactly? We aren’t really in a position where I can do so.”

“Just — stick it out or something,” you say, exasperated. He must realise you’re not joking, because he dutifully follows your instructions. His arm stretches out past the gap in the cell door bars, the closest one to you.

You observe the grime beneath his nails and the faint tremor in his fingers, along with the multiple scars on his arm. “You really need to clean up,” you mutter, sarcasm still pulling through even in this situation.

“I could with your help.” His teasing draws out a sarcastic laugh from you. “But it’s really nothing. I’ve gone through worse.”

“He’s right, we’ve all got the scars to show for it,” Fili calls out. Thorin eyes Kili with concern, though he chooses to simply observe.

You reach out cautiously, your fingers brushing against his as you inspect the makeshift bandage he’s tied in a loose knot. “That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t take care of yourself properly,” you scoff with a roll of your eyes. 

He flinches at your touch, only to allow you to continue. “Your first aid is horrible,” you remark, sitting down and pulling away from him. His arm remains there for a moment, before withdrawing back into his cell. 

“Here, since we can’t see each other, follow what Balin does.” The dwarf mentioned tilts his head in intrigue, inching closer to the cell door. “Grab a piece of cloth, or find one that’s relatively clean. It can be from your shirt or something.”

A loud rip echoes through the dungeon, and you guess he’s already found one. “Alright, focus,” you say, starting to slowly show Balin your movements so he can mirror it back to Kili. “Once you’ve got your cloth, wrap it around the wound. Make sure it’s snug, but not too tight— you want to stop the bleeding without cutting off circulation.”

“Got it,” Kili replies, his tone serious now as he carefully follows your instructions. “What’s next?”

“Now, start by layering the cloth over the wound, but don’t just go in circles. You want to cover it from the centre outwards. Think of it like a spiral, but keep it neat,” you instruct, trying to visualise the process in your mind as you speak. “If you have any leftover fabric, you can use it to tie off the bandage.”

“Leftover fabric? You mean, like the remnants of my shirt?” Kili quips, though you can hear the focus in his voice.

“Whatever works for you bro,” you shrug. “I'm not gonna be the one with the potential infection.”

“After you’ve wrapped it, make a knot to secure it, but not so tight that it restricts your movement. You don’t want to lose feeling in your hand,” you add. “And if you can, check to see if it’s bleeding through. If it is, you’ll need to add another layer on top, but don’t remove the first one.”

“Okay, I’ll keep an eye on it,” Kili assures you, his voice steady despite the pain he’s likely enduring. “I’m tying it off now… it’s a bit tricky.”

“Being injured tends to do that to you.” That draws chuckles from the dwarves around. “Show me what it looks like now so I can check.”

He sticks his hand out once more, the makeshift bandage tied almost perfectly according to your instructions. “That’s…not bad.” You raise your brows, genuinely impressed. 

He wiggles his fingers as if to show off. “Comes with the territory. Handling weapons all my life, after all. Bandaging? Piece of cake.”

Fili pipes up from the other side, snickering, “He’s more used to wrapping himself around trouble, to be fair.”

The cell falls silent again as your thoughts spiral inward, a wave of fear creeping in. The earlier laughs fade, leaving only the loud reminder of your isolation here. The foreignness, the absence of anyone from your world, from home. Your fingers start picking at the skin around your nails, words slipping out before you even realise. 

“What if they don’t remember me?”

It’s muttered more to yourself than to anyone else. The vulnerability in your voice draws the attention of the dwarves, especially Thorin, whose eyes narrow slightly.

Fili speaks first. “Who? Your people?” Raising your gaze, you stare at the wall bordering his. 

Great. Talking to dwarves as makeshift therapists now? Rock bottom, here I come.

“I don’t even know if I have anyone looking for me. I just... I don’t belong here.” The weight of your words hangs in the air, and you can feel the dwarves' gazes on you. It feels understanding, but a certain wariness remains.

Balin’s voice breaks the tension, kind and encouraging. “If the opportunity comes, lass, we’ll help you escape alongside us. No need to fret on that.”

You try to give him a smile in return, but Thorin’s scoff from his cell wipes it right off your face. He shifts, arms crossing over his chest as he sizes you up with a disdainful look. “She’ll only slow us down. A human female, no less. She wouldn’t last a day on our journey, with no weapon, no training, and no resilience to speak of. We’ve got more than enough to deal with without—”

That bastard.

A hot rush of anger flares up, the thinned frays of patience for all the treatment you've endured here finally snapping. “Oh, don’t worry,” you snap, tone dripping with sarcasm. “I wouldn’t want to drag you all down.” 

His condescension feels like a weight, pressing against you until the words spill out before you can stop them. “Besides, if I wanted to survive, I’d have just stuck with Bilbo. He practically saved your asses from being roasted on a spit by those trolls. You’d have been—”

A cold, shocked silence follows. Your mind stalls as you realise you’ve said it — let out a detail so specific that the absurdity of it sinks in, even for you.

Thorin’s eyes narrow, his piercing gaze fixed on you with a new sharpness that unsettles you to your bones. “And how, exactly,” he says, his voice low and dangerous, “would you know of that?”

There’s an intensity in his stare now that makes your pulse skip. Every dwarf in the dungeon has gone quiet, their eyes turning between you and Thorin. Balin’s thoughtful gaze seems to scrutinise you even deeper than his.

Cheeks burning, you swallow hard, the weight of what you’ve said bearing down. Excuses pile up in your throat but stick there, choking you. You could say it was a guess, a wild shot in the dark, but something about Thorin’s intense stare tells you he won’t be easily convinced. 

Balin clears his throat, an attempt to ease the tension. “Perhaps it’s mere coincidence, Thorin. Maybe she simply overheard tales from…from somewhere. These stories travel quickly among folk these days, I’d wager.”

But Thorin’s focus is relentless, his gaze never shifting from you. “Not tales this specific,” he says slowly, his voice growing colder with each word. “You know more than you’re letting on.”

The irritation from earlier has drained, leaving only a quiet dread. You drop your gaze, picking at the edge of the cell bars as though they hold answers. “Maybe I do,” you mutter, your voice softer but just as defiant. “Maybe I know plenty about what you’re up against. Maybe I know things that would make your head spin.”

The challenge in your tone has clearly gotten under his skin. He takes a step closer to his own cell bars, fingers curling around the metal as he watches you with a dark, unreadable expression. “Then speak plainly. What are you hiding? And why?”

Your hand grips the bar tighter, as if that might ground you. “Why should I?” you say, your tone icy. “The last thing I need is to be explaining myself to someone who’d sooner leave me behind than listen.”

A flicker of something unreadable crosses Thorin’s face. Maybe surprise, maybe irritation. But before he can respond, Balin interrupts, a careful look in his eye. “Lass,” he begins gently, his voice coaxing, “if there’s somethin’ you’re not tellin’ us, know that we mean you no harm. But it’s only fair we know what we’re dealing with, for all our sakes.”

You breathe out slowly, watching their faces — some concerned, some suspicious. Thorin, though, is guarded, like he’s ready to block out whatever you might say next, no matter what it is.

So you smile. A faint, tired one that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “I’m not your enemy, Balin. If that’s what you’re wondering. I…don’t want any of you getting hurt.”

Kili speaks up, the curiosity in his voice soft but evident. “So… you’re on our side?”

You pause, your eyes flicking to the floor outside his cell. “I never said that either.”

 — — — — — —

Taglist: @chennqingg <3

[nowyoursoulisforfeit]

What is your favorite Percʼildan AU?

When Vax and Percy get married and live together in Whitestone instead of being sad for eternity.

[cerealbishh]

"So... I should have called you when Kathryn came home sick. I just hate this every-other-week mom thing, you know? So when Kat needed me, I just had to show up for her. And I know it doesn't make sense-"

"No, it- it does make sense. Why do you think I let them eat ice cream at midnight? And look, I overreacted too, because of my weird-ass relationship with my father..."

[mywordsfortheuniverse]

God it is so hot when you show me that you see me as a human being with important feelings.

[silverbastardgoldenfool]

Every fantasy series I try to get into just leaves me longing for deeper characters and prettier prose 😭 Robin Hobb save meeeeeee

[doodlingwren]

If this post gets 15 notes I will redraw this panel from LO with Pisces Aphrodite and Cancer Deathmask.

(I am not joking)

[loftwinglullaby]

wow thank you so much

[campirebites]

My birthday is Monday and I’m having a sleepover with my best friend this weekend and despite the fact that it’s just going to be me, her, and her fiancé (also my friend), they have an entire theme for my birthday with decorations and stuff I’m literally going to cry. The best part? I literally think it’s vampire themed bc my friends know and love me 😭❤️

[kuromi-hoemie]

i can't believe i used all my tags on this. i have MORE TO SAY. honorable mentions i will not elaborate on: pikmin, runescape, OG animal crossing.

the reason for all my tags is because there's a difference between "most fun" and "most important" and feel like if they're important u should at least say why :3

[macchiiattos]

i'm kinda heartbroken bc i love hu tao to death and i just don't like her skin that much (and she'll probably never get another one). xiangling's is pretty cute though

[zincbot]

less "i wish i was born cis" and more "i wish i could have gotten on puberty blockers"

[screampied]

‘ DEATH BY SÉX! 𝜗𝜚

𓉸ྀི sum. his fatal cause of death? op – overly pussydrunk. the prime suspect? located right between your pretty legs. toji, sukuna, nanami, gojo, choso, geto.

warnings. fem! reader, very pússydrunk men, unprotected, cunnīlingus, messy eaters, nīpple play, ab riding, sukuna kinda lactates, dry humping, sqúirting, overstim, spīt, dirty talk, praise, p spanking, fīngering, breedīng mentions, petnames.

an. when you realize everyone here's actually d-

☆ GOJO SATORU.

pronounced dead the minute he goes inside.

satoru grunts, glassy eyes widening as he’s watching his reddened swollen tip disappear between your slick entrance. panting out soft whispering ‘hooooly shit’ ‘s and ‘fuck’ ‘s, you could already tell he’s done for. he’s been inside of you more times than you could count—but it’s like every time is the first time. riding the satoru gojo was a fatality in itself. anytime you ride him he’s weak, and he’s even weaker once you’re staring him dead in the eyes—luxuriating in his lewd contorting facial expressions. it was just the way his crystalline-colored eyes would criss ‘n cross, rolling waaaay back into the dark voids of his head each time he cums inside. satoru always loses it whenever you fuck him, scraping your frantic hips against his and quite literally fucking the brat out of him. “yeah, fuck me. don’t stop baby, don’t—fuckin’—stopp, and he glues his palms against both sides of your waist. your knees rest against his bulky thighs as you’re jerking back ‘n forth, watching his jaw go slack whilst his glossed lips part into a wheezing ‘o.’

and at that moment, he knew he was pussy drunk.

the bed creaks beneath you both. it’s creaks sounded more like groans, and the entire wooden headboard was practically about to split in half.

“mhm, eyes on me ‘toru,” you remind him, glancing at his icy blue eyes that wandered every direction but your face. that was always a habit of his. whenever you rode him, sometimes he’d stare off to the side . . or the ceiling . . or his favorite place, your bouncy tits. “not there, baby,” you tilt his chin up, watching the pout gloss across his lips. satoru claws a hand at your hip, grunting as your cunt sucks him in wholly. every time—you had quite the grip on him, and it’s enough to make him his blushing tip smear across your insides. you moan, feeling the hooked curve of his cock expand through your walls, zigzagging its way through your pasty entrance. “fuck, ‘toru. close again, yeah?”

“m- mhm,” he inhales, gnawing at the bars of his inclosure. your hips were killer . . and every single time - he falls in love with how greedy you slam back and forth against him. rutting hips of yours constantly clashing further into him before a hand wraps around his throat. satoru’s snowy lashes flutter as he glances at you, moaning once you give his neck a slight squeeze. “heh, kinky today, are we angel? usually i’m the one who does the choki—fuuck,” he croaks mid sentence. your squeeze around his throat tightens just a bit, not too much. it’s the right amount of pressure that makes his dick twitch inside of you, and you feel the sporadic pulse instantly. satoru starts to pant, and as your cunt’s still freely constricting around his lanky fat length, his head leans back. “goddd, such a naughty girl. you get y’r cockiness from me that’s for sure.”

“do i?” you purr, leaning in to lick a slope down his neck. satoru moans, and a barred palm of his creeps down toward the fat near heart-shaped juncture of your ass. with a stinging whack, he smacks your rear as you rut into him at a much more quicker pace. with the way your hips rolled, you were gonna hypnotize him with your pussy. you’ve still got dried splotches of cum sticking at your sides before his lips start to quiver in impatient frolic. “baby, open your mouth,” you hum, a sudden idea popping into your head.

working even thinking, the white haired man pries open his mouth before looking at you with low hooded, pussy drunk eyes. “ ‘kay,” he replies submissively, heaving each drawn out breath through his full lungs. satoru’s cock plugs you in snug ‘n fully, and each time you slam your flooding wet cunt against his lap—he’d get whiplash. “what, do i stick out my tongue too or . .” and he pauses, cocky grin fading, and within seconds—he’s growing sheepish once he sees you smugly grinning. “oh.. you’re serious, okay!”

satoru lolls out his pink clean tongue, singing out a playful ‘ahhh’ before that’s when you spit directly in his mouth. he blinks thrice, and instinctively, he swallows. after he savors your taste, a slutty moan leaves from the back of his throat as he’s squeezing your ass. “fuck, do that shit again.”

“yeahhh, more?” you whisper, wiping a thumb across his slick pursed lips. satoru broke a cold sweat, and the more you touched him—the more he started to pant like a dog. his dick ached inside of you, and every time you clamp down on him he lets out a sharp hiss. compressing his lips together again, you give him a quick chaste kiss before purring haughtily. “say ‘pretty please’.”

satoru pouts before sighing with a grousing grumble. his ego was nearly massacred, but he wanted more . . and he wanted you. “pretty . . please,” and he brings a hand toward your right breast, stroking a thumb against your nipple. satoru watches you writhe with his dick still tucked inside before his smugness shortly returns.

“spit in my mouth again,” and satoru, with his lopsided cunt-drunk grin, he puffs his lip out, giving your ass it’s final playful spank. “mommy.”

☆ TOJI FUSHIGURO

toji fushiguro’s an absolute animal whenever it comes to your pussy. straight up, and he might as well change his tittle to the ‘pussy killer.’

he practically lived between your thighs, and fuck could he eat. it doesn’t take toji long at all to get pussy drunk either—in fact, all he even has to do is just smear the buttony tip of his nose down your sopping wet clit, getting a nice whiff.

your scent – it was so strong that without even using his tongue yet, he could already taste you. his tastebuds were salivating… and with you lying pretty, legs sprawled and all, you really brought out the beast out in him. you meet his feral entranced gaze and toji’s heavily panting—already starting to drool from the cracked crevices of his lips just at staring at your cunt.

and all you knew was . .

he’s hungry, and you made him this way.

“f- fuuuck, toji,” you’d croon out a whine, wiggling your hips before he pulls your jittery legs apart from each other. your legs stuck together with such gluey sapping slick that it was cute—you felt hot the more he started to bring his face towards your teary entrance. “n-ngh,” a soft grunt leaves from you as you felt his cold stare intently focus on your poor weeping folds.

one of toji’s favorite things to do though, was to eat you out.. right after he came inside . . and oh, it was the prettiest sight he could ever see.

as toji swiftly goads a plump thumb up to your tender labia, he watches as the mess start to stream out of you – all at once.

you were putting mere waterfalls to shame with how wet you were, just profusely sopping. as he continues to have an eye contest with your sweet drenched folds for a long amount of seconds—toji finally closes the distance, leaning in and sloppily pressing a kiss your pussy.

immediately, he hears the cute ‘psssh’ ‘s your entrance makes and he darkly chuckles once he feels lustrous strings tear away from your entrance, landing onto his mouth. toji didn’t care that he was tasting himself—a sweet.. filthy mixture of you and him that’s now shamelessly coating his scarred, wry lips.

there’s a faint tang of bitterness as he starts to dip his tongue in ‘n out of your cunt—but again, he’s nasty – he’s dirty and your cunt made him even dirtier. toji made sure to thoroughly drag his tongue through every crevice, lapping up the wads of runny cum that was trying to glissade down your puffed pussy. he’s crazy, grabbing ahold of rickety unstable your hips with two bare hands. shaking his head side to side like a madman.

“toji… fuck, you’re s-so nasty,” you moan, fishing a hand through his rumpled overgrown tresses. toji groans once you give his hair a solid pull, yanking him forward. his entire face was stuffed against your pussy—and honestly, to him.. this wouldn’t be a bad way to go out.

death by pussy.

toji found it cute how you could never stay still, his tongue was that much, and you let off a sweet dragging yelp once the tip of his tongue greets itself against your pretty throbbing g-spot. “fuckkk!”

“nasty just for you, babygirl,” he hoarsely whispers against your folds. hitched hot breath waves into your entrance and you were already starting to arch toward. breathy, labored breaths of yours started to grow more ‘n more irregular as he continued eating you out. after every toe-curling movement from his tongue alone—toji moves even closer, lolling out the entirety of his long flat tongue to get an extra good enough taste. he was greedy.

verdant eyes meet yours as he creates a slow sloppy trail, starting at your fluttering hole allllll the way until he’s guiding his tongue to lick in between your slit. toji thinks it’s cute how you’re throbbing in his mouth – pulsating on his tastebuds the entire time—pulse after fuckin’ pulse. you let off a cute ‘ah!’ as you’re just shoving his head against your face and he snickers.

toji slurps you clean, creating such lewd noises from his mouth before meanly spanking your cunt, staring it dead in the entrance. “she’s my favorite girl, always” and he hums. “ ‘s funny though. she’s just like you,” and you whimper once his palm swats against your pudgy folds again, squelches getting louder. “she talks back exactly just like you, baby. wet with a smart mouth.”

your heart feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest as you watch with glossy-doe eyes whilst toji plays between your legs. each convulsion gets stronger… and by now, you started to feel yourself short-circuiting. you were so tender, and toji loved more than anything to spank your cunt raw, kiss it, rub it—then spank it again. a feral cycle.

right then, that’s when he snakes two thick fingers inside of your cunt, watching his fingertips slowly disappear. soft shrilling moans drag from your vocal chords before he licks the remnants of his cum from your pussy before a breathy ‘heh’ fans against your clit. “god, she’s fuckin’ nasty today. no manners just like her pretty owner,” and toji pulls his fingers out, licking them before spanking your cunt again with a free hand. “oooh,” he jibes, pointed ears perking at the cute popping slosh. you’re so wet—so so wet and he only wanted more. as his hand continued to smack against your folds, a few droplets of your sheeny juices splat right near the corner of his mouth. a few millimeters away from his slashing scar near his lip. toji happily licks himself clean with his eager tongue, giving your pretty pussy another spank, and another, and a-fuckin’-nother. .

the room’s filled with nothing but loud spanks of his hand going against your cunt—you moan ‘n whimper everytime, the brief occasional sting from the palm of his hand leaving a sweet dirty taste in your mouth. at his next spank, toji hears you moan out a pretty ‘oooh’ of your own and he looks up at you.

“yeah, girl? like that one, huh? fuck, can’t tell who’s nastier,” and he spits on your cunt before lapping it up before it could dribble between your slit. “messy little girl. cute how y’r pussy’s tryna compete with you,” and as he spanking it for a while, toji maneuvers soft tenderly circles against your throbbing heat.

“my messy pussy. all mine.”

☆ NANAMI KENTO

it’s rare for nanami to get pussy drunk—but when he does, watch out. he’s a eater at heart, and the moment you tell him what to do, he’s get cunt drunk within a matter of seconds.

“sweetheart, the least you could do is let me see you while ‘m between your legs,” nanami would huff, and his eyes were completely covered by his tie. tied in a neatly loose knot, he’s buried between your legs, so so close to your sopping saturated cunt. he could practically smell you, and as he spoke it was a cute pout that decorated his thin pink lips. as his glossed lips inch closer, he brings your pulsating clit a chaste kiss. “you’re wetter than usual today,” he whispers, and you let off a moan as your head tilts back, clawing a hand through his mussed blond strands. nanami looks up, his vision still blocked—but it’s almost as he’s making direct eye contact with you. as his finger gingerly peels your soddened folds apart, his husky voice pitches deeper. “does me bein’ on my knees ‘n blindfolded turn you on—”

with a impatient sigh, you give nanami’s hair a harder tug. “kennn,” and he watches as you create a wider spreading ‘v’ of your legs, glistening folds spreading apart also. “talk too much. finish eating,” and then a sly smile pulls against your lips as your eyes glance down at his unoccupied hand. “spank it too. . while you’re at it,” and you pout. “pretty please?”

“spank it?” he repeats, nearly getting lost at the sheeny stream of slick that pours down your slavering entrance. your pussy was profusely weeping from top to bottom, and nanami brings a hand up, softly caressing your tender twitching muscle. “my, where’s this comin’ from? you know i wouldn’t wanna hurt you, princess.”

you let off yet another frustrated sigh, feeling your chest heave in and out as nanami’s lips brush up against your swollen clit. pretty, ruby lips of his were all damp—along with the lower part of his jaw that was starting to water all due to your sweetened juices freely cascading down his chin. “ ‘s not gonna hurt, kento,” you reassure him, your voice getting shakier once he goes back to delving his pointed tongue in ‘n out of your throbbing heat.

there’s a coquettish simper that twists near each sides of his lips before he uses a palm to pat your cunt. “yeah? you want me to spank you here, huh?” and you whimper, watching as he starts to swirl a plethora of shapes against your sobbing entrance with his palm. immediately, you coat his entire palm with your slick and he starts to lick against his hand. with a sudden smack, you gush right on his palm a little and you whine at the abrupt contact. “ooh, how was that, my love?”

“harder,” you moan, feeling the bottomless pits of your stomach flutter with butterflies once nanami’s ethereal caramel eyes lock against yours. you hadn’t even realized he pulled his dotted patterned tie up above his eyes, getting a pretty peek of you and your sweet greedy cunt. once he gave you that look with that sleazy lopsided grin, fuck you knew it.

nanami kento’s pussy drunk, and it makes you throb just knowing only you had the power to make him this way.

with a playful snicker, he shakes his head. “ah, ‘harder,’ she says,” he whispers, giving your pussy another spank. one turns into two . . then three, then four . . and eventually, the only sounds that fill the room is nanami’s wide palm swatting against your squelching sex. if you weren’t vocal, you definitely were between your legs because your cunt continued to spat sloshes and squelches from each direction hit from his hand. “my oh my~ she’s a bit of a chatter today, no?”

still with a pout painted across your lips, you let off a sweet needy whine. “ ‘ken, spit on it,” and his ears perk up at your carnal words. you leer down at him as the corners of his lips crease inward, showcasing his dimples and he hums. “please, spit on it kento. need it.”

“no, baby. you want, not need,” nanami corrects you, the frigid silvery band of his watch brushing up against your cunt. as the coolly air of the room fans against your twitching flaps, he gathers up a nice wad of saliva before spitting down on your plump pussy lips.

nanami stares at you the entire time—openly, relishing in your expressions and you’re shivering and pulsating at the same time. seconds later, he leans in to slowly lap up the stringy trail of his own saliva while maintaining direct eye contact with you the entire time. nanami lolls out his lengthy long tongue, curling it inside of you before he gives your tender nub a niiiice long suck. he slurps literally everything out of you, and now. . he’s starting to to spell his last name with the tip of his tongue.

n-a-n-a-m-i k-e-n-t-o and as he’s tracing each letter libidinously, you feel your own hips rock and writhe into his mouth at an unsteady pace. nanami’s growing stubble tickles against your pussy and you whimper.

after a while, he grabs ahold of your hips and his head starts to sashay back and forth. he’s fast, and he softens his voice, talking over your sweet wailing whines. “fuck, use my face, honey. ‘s okay, i don’t bite,” he purrs against your clit. but as he spoke, his soft fawn irises lock against yours before he hums, teasingly nipping his teeth against your sensitive pearled nub while giving you the most pussy-drunken grin you’ve ever seen.

“unless.. you’re into that too, sweetheart—me biting your clit, i mean.”

☆ CHOSO KAMO

with choso—he gets cunt drunk the second he gets a fresh view between your legs. so pretty, just seeing you spread eagle in front of him, teasing him with that playful look in his eyes, oh you were gonna be the death of him. but in this case—not you, but your pussy instead.

“come closer baby,” you quietly coo, watching how your boyfriend’s eyes bulged wider. you look so pretty, slouched back against his side of the bed with your legs spread. he gulps as he openly stares at your drooling cunt - weeping with honey slick that creates a trail of wet molasses. you were so soaked, and choso could tell you were playing with yourself while he was out. “chosoooo,” you hum, a smile marinating against your glossed lips as you could clearly see him nearly entranced by your spread out pussy. he barely blinks, and once he starts making his way between your legs, he lets out a soft whimper. “c’mere, give it a ‘lil kiss.”

“y- you sure?” he sheepishly says, the darkened scar that runs across the bridge of his nose creasing up. as choso brings his face between your thighs, his warm breath aerates down your slit. god, he couldn’t help but get a good whiff. you smelled so sweet—and he hasn’t seen you all day. instinctively, he runs a thumb down your sobbing cunt before feeling his lips twitch. “f- fuck, princess. were you playin’ with yourself earlier?”

in this case—you’d end up making choso an ever bigger freak than you. with an impish grin, you paw a hand through his oily raven strands before inhaling a deep breath.

“maybe jus’ a little,” and you moan once you feel his thin lips pucker, bringing your cunt a soft three second smooch. “yeah- uh huh, like that,” and as your voice starts to tremor, you give his hair a light tug. “choso, use your fingers a little. can you do that too?”

“mhm,” choso replied meekly, and you didn’t have to tell him twice. as your legs continued to sprawl themselves open, he gradually pops in a finger – immediately feeling you try to clamp down on him. choso lets off a soft airy breath, watching with big marveled eyes as your cunt’s so eager to suck in the single digit.

you squelch—then you squelch again, and you let off a moan once you feel him start to scissor his finger way past the tight ring of your gummy entrance. “s- so warm inside, baby,” he murmurs, and he can’t help but lean in, sliding his tongue against your twitching sex. “mmph,” you stare as his eyes flicker back for a moment, and you knew right away that it didn’t take long before he choso kamo was fatally pronounced entirely pussy drunk.

the moment his digit’s buried deep inside of your sopping cunt—he can’t help but add in another, and he’s moaning right with you.

choso was near the side of the bed and his hips took it amongst theirselves to start rocking against the wooden edge. “c- choso,” you mewl out, feeling an eerie stir swarm around the bottom pits of your stomach. his fingers were long, and he made sure to delve them in and out of you, coating each ‘n every inch with such slimy volumes of your sweet sap. “fuuuck, keep kissin’ it too, baby,” and as he continues to obediently follow your words, your legs begin to wrap around his neck. “fuck, fuck, don’t stop. ‘s good, good fuckin’ boy.”

“m’ your good boy,” he repeats, feeling a strain at his dick that sheaths under his jeans once he hears you. your praise—choso’s number one weakness. whenever you showered him with praises, or even degrade him a bit, he’d probably cum right through his pants. choso’s thick fingers plummet deeper until they twist around, maneuvering circular shapes to make you whimper out a desperate battle cry. you slump back, gasping before you feel your leg start to twitch. “ ‘s this okay, baby?”

with another whine running past your lips, you felt a sudden pressure gradually building up. its creeping—and the curvature of your mouth forms into a oval-like ‘o’ the second you feel him rubbing his nose against your cunt.

fuck… you were so close and choso made sure to study your body’s movements. “m’ gonna cum, ‘cho. fuck, right there, don’t stop, ngh,” and as your eyes squeeze shut, you watch him briefly pull out his slick-coated fingers. you’re panting heavily. harsh-heated breaths snatch from your lungs unapologetically, and as you’re laid back with your legs spread wide – you don’t even realized you had gushed right out… a pretty shimmering geyser that sprays out your overwhelmed pussy.

your orgasm was beautiful, and choso’s ears twitched at the melodic sound of you abruptly finishing. you ended up squirting, and it makes him moan knowing he did that. “so.. pretty,” he pouts, lapping up his wet chin with his tongue. you could feel your legs still violently shaking as you were trying to get over your teetering high, your grip in his hair loosening. “hah, good girl. did so good, a bit m- messy but good,” he cheekily jibes, raven eyes flickering up at you.

choso gives your sloppy cunt one more kiss before you moan, feeling him slither both thin fingers back in.

“more… do that again f’me,” and choso playfully nibbles at your clit, hearing your cute yelps from the tenderness. “wanna see you squirt again, and again, and again.”

☆ SUGURU GETO

you’d make him pussy drunk in the most random times — he’d be working out, and you’d be straddling him, bare ‘n all.

geto grunts, feeling your soft wet cunt just laid all out, sitting against his flexing sweaty abs. such carnal thoughts roam through his brain… imagining all types of things—like him being between your legs to start, eating you out like a starved man.

“h-heh.. now m’ startin’ to get why you love watchin’ me do my sets, sweetheart,” geto slyly purrs, raising a brow once he sees you straddling not his lap—but his chest. his perfectly chiseled chest with glistening trails of sweat tearing down his sculptured v-line.

it was true . . you indeed loved to watch geto whenever he worked out, but it always made you super aroused. how his hefty tense muscles would tightly tense at each pull of his dumbbells. how his veins in his forearms would bulge from each rough pull. but the moment you peeled your panties to the side, geto hooks a hand on your hip. “oh? is my girl feelin’ a bit nasty tonight?”

“suguuu,” a cooing whine slithers past your lips as you pout, your wet cunt sitting flat against the top chiseled row of his abs. they were so hard.. and it makes your legs clench together, feeling his chest heave in and out. he’d just gotten through a bunch of reps, but you couldn’t wait—and neither could the stream that’s starting to gloss between your stick thighs. “you’ve been workin’ out all day.”

geto darkly chuckles, brushing a thumb down your drenched pussy. “babe, it’s been three hours,” and as his hooded eyes trail down at your cracked open legs, he exhales deeply. “but. . with a pussy this pretty, i gotta give you some attention too, right?”

“mhm,” you breathe, and he groans once he feels your hands slither toward his pecs. they were so big — and they glistened with sweat, beads racing down every corner. geto leans back, bringing both bulgy arms to rest behind his head as a coy grin plastered across his face. you couldn’t wait any longer, and that’s right when you started to move your sopping cunt against his rock hard abs. your hips moved slowly, and you were going back and forth, up and down . .

“fuck, look at you,” he whispers in a raspy hum, trailing a bare hand toward your the cute curving slope of your ass. geto gruffly groans, feeling his dick twitch in his black tight compression shorts. his noticeable bulge vigorously throbs and aches beneath the cottony fabric and you grinding your sweet cunt against his chest wasn’t exactly helping. geto’s sinister-dark eyes remain fixated on you the entire time, flickering towards your cunt from time to time—and within a blink of an eye, he swats a hand against your ass. “faster baby, don’t slow down now. ride ‘em good. make my fuckin’ abs just as dirty ‘n messy as you, yeah? use that pretty pussy. all for me.”

you start to pant - sharply, and as your eyes meet his, and oh, was he was feral. geto can’t help but strum a few fingers down your clit, bringing his fingers back up toward his lips for a shameless taste. as soon as he got a single taste of you, he was done for.

“sugu, m’ gonna cum,” you whimper, feeling your back starting to arch to a certain degree. slender fingers of yours rummage through his strands, tickling near his scalp before giving it a firm tug. geto groans, and you’re still jerking your cunt against his abs. it’s a lewd snail-trailing slope. you made sure to coat half if not all of his abdomen with your honeyed slick. “suguru, hng. gonna c- oh fuuuck!”

“c’mon then, make a mess. be my messy baby,” he whispers, his tone getting more and more huskier. each word he spoke in such a filthy sultry manner makes your pussy twitches. geto brings a hand down between your legs, ghosting a swollen fat thumb down your needy clit. throb after throb, you were getting closer toward your teetering edge—so much so to where you could almost taste it without actually tasting it. it was becoming inevitable, and right when you end up cumming, you let off the cutest seven-second mewl.

your jaw stupidly hangs open as you end up finishing against his core ripped stomach—geto flexes his pecs underneath you and he huffs. “fuck, good girl,” and as you’re creaming on a row of his washboard abs, geto combs a hand through his hair. your cunt pulses against his skin and he hisses out a breathy needy ‘fuck.’ glancing down with low hooded eyes, he sees your clit dilating. so cute, you were convulsing right on top of him and your hips fatally come to a crashing stop. breath after breath leaves from your lungs as you’re a mess, watching his glossy his entire lower chest glisten with your own arousal to blame. “god, made such a mess on me,” and geto reaches in his boxers as you straddle him, phewing at how hot you looked on top of him.

but right as he sits up, you lightly push him back against his cushiony weight bench, hearing him land with a gruff ‘ugh.’ you pout, dragging a finger down his sharp sculptured v-line before stopping at his black faded happy trail. “s- suguru, let me lick it off you too.”

“atta giiirl,” he croons, giving your ass once final spank. geto leans back, his eyes following you as you lean your head down, still quietly whimpering from your recent release. geto groans, giving your hair a ruffle before sighing. once your tongue starts to trail its way down his sheeny slick abs, he sucks in a breath. “fuck, lick everywhere sweetheart. don’t miss a—hah, don’t miss a drop, fuck.”

☆ SUKUNA RYŌMEN

“tch. what’s with . . the weird look, woman,” sukuna would pant, and he’s heavily out of breath. he sits back on his throne and oh, he’s flushed. you rode him to a point where he’s nearly speechless for a few seconds. you straddle on top of him with his cock stilled inside of you, feeling all various arms of his wrap around your waist. a pink slit brow furrows before he sighs. “quit looking impish, it’s.. irritating.”

“ ‘kuna,” you remain still, nearly slipping at a moan once you feel his flaccid cock rest between your folds. he’s stretching you out so good as shaky, rickety thighs of yours ached and burned. every vein within your body. he sucks in a breath once your hands feel down his bare, exposed chest. sukuna’s wearing nothing but a kimono on, it’s slit open and you felt all down his body. he’s warm, way warmer than usual and as you continue to touch the curse’s skin, you stop at his oversized pecs. “mhm.” sukuna’s got such a wide chest—but you weren’t so much focused on that, you were focused on his nipples.

his pink, perked nipples that you knew were always so sensitive. he told you about it . . once, and never again because it was well, embarrassing. even air brushing against his skin makes him shiver, including with causing his nipples to shamefully twitch. “can i suck on ‘em again?”

“suck on—oh..” his gruff voice trails, and you can see a splash of bashfulness paint his pale face like a canvas. sukuna ryomen’s embarrassed.. and oh how he wished he could wipe the smug smirk off your face. sukuna scoffs, but it doesn’t take long before he finally caves in. “fine, get it over with.”

your smile never falters, and as he’s still idly buried deeply inside your cunt with such salaciously thick inches, you bring your lips toward his pecs. sukuna inhales deeply, mentally preparing himself before fuck, you cup your lips around his right nipple. “hah, such a weird one you are,” he breathlessly groans, an arm gently clasping under your head to support it. your eyes close, and you suck on it—until he lets off another raspy groan. sukuna’s dick twitches and he’s so tender, so . . . sensitive.

the demon scrapes a few claws down his meaty thigh as your tongue lies itself flat against his perked nipples. “mhm,” your lashes flutter close, and at that exact moment, you start to ride him again. it was sudden, his eyes widen before he lets off a needy husky moan, squeezing a portion of your ass tightly before his crimson eyes roll back. he’s pussy drunk – entirely, especially since he was still trying to get over his most recent orgasmic orgasm. sukuna tried to keep up his façade, but with a cunt as hypnotic as yours, he might as well be buried six feet fuckin’ under. a vein twitches on his cock and its sporadic pulses make you pulse.

he’s just big inside, easily rearranging your insides without even having to move an inch. his lazy downward curve of his dick made you drool—sukuna reached far inside of your pussy, never forgetting to bruise and kiss against your sweet beloved g-spot. “ ‘kunaaa,” you repeat his name, and he could feel his entire body heat the more you whisper his title through those pretty glossed lips. as you briefly depart your lips from his nipples with a loud ‘pop!’ sound echoing through his eerie domain, strings of saliva detaching from your mouth. “hah, can you lactate?”

“you did not just ask me that,” the curse angrily pouts, and you feel his pecs tense. sukuna remains sat on his throne before scoffing. “you humans and your weird fantasizes. no, i don’t lacta—”

“wouldn’t hurt to try,” you titter, and he groans the second your mouth goes back to sucking against his tender skin like a leech. so good, a fang of his pokes beneath his lip as his mouth hands open. you’ve got him right where you wanted him. sukuna grunts from the sensitivity and you thought he was gonna push you away, but instead—he does the opposite. sukuna pulls you closer with one arm, digging his sharp keen fangs into his bottom pulled out lip to suppress his incoming whimpers.

your tongue swirls it way around his nipples, making sure to wet everywhere—he groans, sucking in individual sharp breaths before he feels his cock tightening. fuck, he felt something approaching quickly. his reaction time was devastatingly slow and his look of cockiness suddenly forms into . . neediness.

“ugh, such a nasty girl. but shit— don’t stop,” he snarls, one of his feet thumping against his regal glass floor. he’s chewing on salty anticipation and it’s never tasted sweeter. sukuna’s dick that stills itself inside of you aches for more, and as he watches as your own saliva lewdly race down the corners of your lips, he grumbles. “have some c- class, woman.”

oh, you’re making him stutter now.. and it’s cute— sukuna ryomen was flustered, and he’s so lost in his brief fantasm that he doesn’t even realize he’s cumming inside of you yet again. but at the same time, he starts leaking from his pecs. there’s a sweet taste that trickles on the flatness of your tongue as you hum. at the same time, a raw hot load pours into your womb deeply and he lets out a growl that echoes ‘n resounds through the soundproof walls of his domain. “fuck,” he hisses, veins prodding all through his thick neck. your cunt wholly accepts every drop, and you teasingly grind against him as your pussy flutters around him. then it dawned on him, sukuna came… just from you sucking on his nipples. you were about to say something as you try to get up, but he pushes you right back into sucking on his pecs, wrapping an arm around you.

“y’er .. a fuckin’ weirdo,” sukuna grumbled, still shuddering from his intense release. sukuna felt both of his nipples grow hot, and he’s shaking as he’s never felt more sensitive. velvety ropes shoot into you rawly and he huffs, lazily slouching all the way back on his throne.

“so you can lacta—”

“shut up, woman,” he snaps at you, but you can hear the cute shiver in his voice. sukuna’s eyes were droopy and he’s still heavily panting, moaning as you suck on his tender nipples. as you start to move your hips again, relishing the candied taste in your mouth—he’s still dumping hefty amounts of sweltering hot cum until it dribbles past your thighs. you’re overflowed, you’re overflowed and he’s undeniably pussy drunk.

“but… phew, didn’t say you could stop. do it again,” and sukuna’s vermillion-bloodshot eyes narrow at your smug grin before he curses under his breath, eyes rolling back eyes again,

“…please.”

[orcelito]

There's also the impulse to be like "women ain't shit" but that's a lie I love our women. Not women as a whole's fault that one of them turned out a selfish bastard of a coward.

I just need to find a woman who doesn't treat me like That. Get me a good butch. I need me a good butch.

[grimbeak]

going to eat peter hyams alive just watched 2010

[toji-bunny-girl]

bartender toji fucking the living daylights out of us after a nasty breakup ? also have a nice day

ON THE H★USE !!

#𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐀𝐆 ⟢ bartender!Toji Fushiguro x fem!reader #𝑺𝒀𝑵𝑶𝑷𝑺𝑰𝑺 ⟢ riding the hot bartender after a break up is the least expected thing you’ll ever think of #𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 ⟢ alcohol, pet names, foreplay, fingering, teasing, grinding, pre-cum, no protection, creampie, car sex, nipple play, squirting, size difference, big dick toji papa, alpha toji with xxxxxxxxl dick, multiple orgasm, one-sided drunk sex (?), power play, I’m so lazy to do tags, who even reads content warnings tbh #𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑻 ⟢ 4k #𝑨/𝑵 ⟢ don’t let this flop guys I spent way too much time on this when I should be studying for my exam 😭

“Plus, he literally had to beg me to act like I was cummin’ when he stuck his sorry excuse of a dick in me!” your eyelids hung heavily over your eyes as you exclaimed, brows shooting down in a frown. “Get a load of that guy, am I right?”

“He doesn’t pay for your stuff, and he can’t fuck good?!” Toji teasingly mirrored your tone as he manoeuvre behind the bar, uniform taut from the way he natchly flexed his arms; the bottles clinking as he worked deftly to craft out the beverage you ordered. “What a man.”

It has been 2 hours since you’ve been rambling on about your ex-boyfriend, and the ravenette felt like he’d known this stranger for years—all of his secrets and traits aired into his ears. Albeit, it was getting a bit boring, with the same repeated stories tumbling out of your voluble mouth. But still, he enjoyed chuckling at your adorable insobriety, fuelled by drunken mania. 

“Here you go, princess,” a small tug lifted the ends of his scarred lips when your eyes patently glimmered at the newly served alcohol. “It’s the last I can give you, we’re closing…” Toji’s eyes momentarily flickered to his watch, “in 7 minutes.”

“Oh, okay!” you deliriously yawped, downing the beverage into your liqueur-brimmed system before handing him your card, which you aimlessly threw at him, not even lucid of your motions. “Just swipe it.”

Toji simply brushed it off, taking it towards the other side of the counter. He's used to unintentional antics like yours, as long as the tab was paid off he has no problem with them. 

15,900 yen. 

The digits flashed past his eyes like stars, igniting a luminous glint in his dark emerald orbs. Hell, was it a sum to casually splurge on at some mid-high bar? He’s got a pretty girl with probably an equally pretty amount of personality in her wallet, sprawled on the bar top wailing about her broken heart. 

Oh, how he would love to play saviour. 

“Here, princess. Time to go home,” he tapped your card onto the counter after the successful transaction. His gruff voice was low as you drifted further from your haywired consciousness and towards a delicious drowse. You didn’t move when he neared your face, attempting to marshal up your scattered coherence by calling into your ear. 

Toji sighed as he leaned back onto his feet, and crossed his bulky arms, pondering the ways to get you out of the otherwise empty bar. 

It was 12:58 am and the other inebriated customers had gone out by themselves or with their friends dragging them along. Except for you, softly snoring on the sticky counter. 

His coworker shrugged at him when the ravennette glanced at the shorter male for help. “Just get her out of here. I’ll clean up the rest, and you owe me this one,” always so kind—how Toji wished he could smooch that man right then. 

“Thanks, man,” Toji’s eyes curved in moon crescents, before settling his sight onto your dozed frame. His finger pressed against your temple, and your head lolled to the side in suit of a light push; a trail of drool slipping past your plump lips. You were completely and utterly out of it, huh?

Grasping onto your arm, the male lightly shook you awake, the warmth from his calloused palm stimulating your nerves vivified. “Hey, Mr. Bartender…” you had an uneven smile on your crooked lips, sleepiness bubbling into the air with every laggard blink as you breathily chuckled. “Are you gonna bring me home?”

“I don’t know about that, princess,” his tone was syrupy sweet and it licked the ends of your lips upwards into a velvety grin. “But we gotta go now. Come on,” Toji’s hands came to yours, gently pulling you off of the bar stool. You followed after his guide, slipping your card into your pocket before frisking behind him like a lamb to the door. 

The burly male turned to his wrist after the door swung close in the wake of your exit, checking his watch; it read 1:04 am. The train station is closed and it’s going to kill his conscience if he leaves you by the streets like he always does with intoxicated male customers. He has no idea where you stay anyway—best to call a friend of yours to take you home. 

“(Y/N)?”

A grating, vexatious voice called. The two of you swivelled your gaze to the source to find your cheating, insipid creature of an ex with an arm thrown over some chick’s shoulders, chortling at the unstable mess you were. Your eyes were puffy and tumid from the hours of crying slash ranting session, and you were anything but lucid from the way you looked. 

How fucking lucky.

“What you got going on here? Getting kicked out of a bar?” your ex taunted, nearing his face to yours as you narrowed your eyes at him. 

“Y-You…as—”

“Have the lady some of her space, buddy,” Toji’s authoritative voice prevailed over yours as he pushed the male away, rendering him to helplessly stumble backward into a fall. The woman in his arm hid her giggle with a gasp before helping his fuming ass up, his face beet red from his ignominious tumble. 

“Who are you?” he barked, eyelids flying open to show the hidden whites and teeth bared in belligerence. 

“A man who can make her cum, without begging her to fake it,” the woman burst into a half-concealed snicker when the ravennette broke the air with his unanticipated words. Your face grew to be saturated with ardent red, from both the intoxicant that coursed through your veins and the sentence you thought you had heard.

“I call it bullshit,” your ex spat with his upper lip pulled up in disrelish. There’s a flash of humiliation in his glare—he knew Toji seemed better than him and it killed him to know you’ve got suitors who are way out of his league. 

“It’s true,” you tapped Toji’s metallically stiff chest with a twisted, satisfied smirk on your rat-arsed face. “He toootally didn’t just stick his dick in me and call it a day, y’know?”

“Fucking whore.”

“What d’ya say?!” you screeched, ready to pounce on the asshole. “I sent you to the ER once, and I’ll do it again!”

“Alright, that’s enough, princess,” Toji tenaciously held onto your arm, and you’re stuck by him even without him using much strength. “We don’t want you dirtying your hands, do we?” 

A nasty shove met the male’s chest, knocking the air out of his lungs when he hit the ground. It was merely a fraction of Toji’s force, and it already had the male choking to breathe on the ground. 

“Speak to her like that again, and it’s not going to be just a push,” you could hear the rise of a dour, serrated threat in his tone, and it begot the asshole to cower back in trepidation. 

Pussy, Toji grimace. Albeit he was no saint himself but he absolutely despises the ilk of guys your ex filtered into—boisterous and a bully to women, yet nothing but a trifling mutt in front of men.

A tug of his arm, and your limbs wrapped around his wretched him out of his state of visceral contempt. “Take me home!” you ineptly exclaimed, a gruntled grin on your adorable, roguish face. 

Briefly riveting his baleful gaze onto the splayed male on the bitumen, Toji steered you uphill towards the parking lot as you clumsily tottered aside him. 

The encounter with the small-dick fucker sure rendered him more understanding of your evening of outburst. Plus, for you to be cheated on that piece of work was truly the icing on the cake. “Poor you, huh?”

“Forget ‘bout him! You were so cool I almost cummed right there and then,” you teasingly giggled as you peered at him through your heavy eyelids. 

Fuck—it’s no good for you to be saying that with that look on your face. 

His eyes rest ahead the road as you soon come to near the bright red C8 Corvette the woman he’s estranged with had previously gifted him, the car standing out amongst the parked vehicles like a sore thumb. 

Your eyes scintillated in awe when the car luridly flashed and beeped in the night, “That’s yours?!” you cried aloud, frisking all the way to the car, before stumbling over thin air and nearly jolting forward into a fall. Luckily, Toji was quick enough to catch you by your arm, saving your knee a painful event of bloody excoriation. “Oopsie daisie.”

Cute, Toji chortled. 

Jumping into the vehicle, the potent roar of the engine cut through the midnight air after you’ve settled neatly in the passenger seat, the only thing missing was the safety belt that was supposed to secure your form. Reaching to your side, Toji’s hand briefly brushed over your exposed thigh, the hem of your short dress riding up to merely cover your panty. 

A soft, almost inaudible noise fled your lips, and his eyes laid on your face, the faint, intimate gold beam from the street lamp illuminating your glowing features. Your orbs were luminous through the dark, and it roused an innate lasciviousness that lay dormant in his core. 

The liquor that flowed through your blood vessels had not quelled through the lapse of time, but it did not take away your clarity to feel the tension that electrified the air molecules into sweltering magnetism. And gosh do you want to snatch the constriction in the atmosphere and tear it through your canines. 

“Touch me,” you whispered, so soft and vulnerable Toji could seemingly snap you in half with just a touch. 

“You’re drunk, princess,” he reminded, yet he remained unshifted over your smaller frame, his hand merely a molecule from your tempting flesh that sang for his warmth. 

“No,” you were firm. Something in you purled, bubbling a heavy, demanding need to have him devour you. “I want you,” your breath was hot, scorchingly so; airy and desperate. 

“You want me?” his hand fell to your wrist, grasping your soft skin under his heavy hold, and guiding you over to his seat, straddling his lap. His gaze cut through your eyes, daubing pressure against your jumbled nerves, his intensity threatened to slice through the silky jugular of your vulnerability. And you nearly moaned under his eyes.

You gingerly nodded at him, and you thought the knit between your brows was enough to speak for your neediness. 

His grip on your wrist tightened a fraction before you missed the heat radiating from his palm. “Careful, princess. You might regret this,” he had paved a way out, it’s a leave it or fuck it situation served beneath your fingertip—and all the atoms in your body leaped into the growling blaze in the abyss residing in his essence. 

“Please,” your voice was barely a note above a mumble, yet the weight of your single word mitigated any marshalled resistance in him. 

His hands slid up your thighs, inching under your dress, sending tingles to your throbbing core. The intensity that radiated from him ceased to waver as he leaned against your neck, brushing against your skin as you gulped. Dark, ashen clouds drew above the emerald forest of his before he spoke, almost threateningly against your throat, “I want you to remember every single detail of this in the morning.”

With a breathless nod, you had swung the floodgates of your amenability open to his guttural thirst. The heavy, rapacious waves of your desires crash into superposition. You were the fuel and he was the fire, together the air detonated into space. 

His wet lips met yours in a whim, sucking onto your flesh until it stung, greedily tasting every crook and cranny of your wet cavern with the bumps of his tongue. You moaned into his mouth as your hands flew to clutch onto his head, deepening the kiss to reach his insides while his rough fingers sank into the plump flesh of your ass. 

Your lips burned with his saliva, and his tongue fluttered with yours. The atmosphere felt all-consuming, gripping onto your throat and restricting the air from flushing down your windpipe. Yet, your core pulsed between your thighs, an excited blaze slowly roaring into something bigger than you could handle. 

Your chest rose and fell in a quick tempo when you snatched your lips away from his, grasping as much air as you could within a second before you dove right into him. Albeit your sight was hazy, you caught sight of the luminous flush that panned over his cheeks. 

Pretty, pretty. You chanted in your head as your hands slid down to his clothes, clumsily popping the buttons off of the garment that kept the warmth of his skin away from your touch. You want him, you want him. 

Your fingers nearly melted when they met his hot, sinewy chest, and Toji’s teeth sank a little too hard into your bottom lip when you teased his nipples under your touch, innervating them hard with every flick. The salient bulge in his pants rolled against your folds, merely separated by an annoying piece of your underwear, and your moans jumbled into each other’s mouths

“Fuck, princess. You’re driving me crazy,” Toji breathily groaned when your sloppy lips sundered apart, a hot string of mixed saliva connecting your swollen, red lips together. His large hands lifted your ass up into the air as he palmed them, the warmth from him sending a snuggly sensation through your body. “It’s no fun when only you get to tease.”

Your eyes playfully gleamed, before the light shot out of the crater of your orbs—his finger pressed against your sodden panty, damp with arousal. The tingles shyly reached through your belly as he rubbed your hardening bud, and your body shuddered against his. 

“You’re not playing fair,” he murmured against your jaw, leaving trails of bruised kisses down your jugular. His hand left your heat just as the high came close to your clutch, leaving you with nothing but the lingering cold touches of his. 

With a defeated sigh, you ground your knee against his growing hardness, your finger shyly rubbing against the clothed tip of the constrained mount, the spot slowly growing dark from amativeness. 

Toji sunk deeper into the headrest as you touched him, his exposed chest ceaselessly rising and falling. His breath hitched in his throat when you twirled his sensitive nipple between your fingers; your heated exhales warming the side of his neck as his grip almost painfully firmed onto the fat of your ass. 

You didn’t allow his peaking orgasm to come through, forcing yourself off of his sore, throbbing erection, and your teeth bared into a dirty smile. “I am playing fair.”

“You want to test me, princess?” he chuckled, the bassy timbre of his scratching the knot of an itch inside your ears. A gasp leaped out of your throat as your body jolted forward, his seat clicked backward to its maximum taut, “I’ll make you cry for more.”

You found your back nestled in his stead, your thighs spread open with his calloused hand slipping down your supple flesh. His fingers tapped nearer and nearer to your heat, before slipping off your soiled panty. 

“So fuckin’ wet,” Toji sucked an inhale through his teeth as he leered at your dripping sex—thick, rough thumb fluttering friction on your clit once again. Your eyelids flitted shut as you softly moaned against the air, the smell of your arousal filled the confinement of the car; the scent nearly making him growl when it panged hard against his nostrils. 

You watched as Toji slipped a thick finger into your velvety folds, feeling it trodding past your walls. Your heat snugly enveloped him as he filled your inside with another digit, his two fingers pressing, and running themselves over your slick cunny. “Gotta stretch you good for me, princess.” 

Your back inched into the seat with a contented sigh, enjoying the build-up of ticklish pressure stacking up your tummy. Toji was ridiculously dexterous with his fingers—deftly stroking your cunt, and quick to find the spot in you that innervated your pure senses with a ting. 

“S-Shit—” your body was subservient to his touches; your spine curved into an arch, your toes curled tight and your fingernails dug into the flesh of his arm. “M’feel so good. Toji—fuck,” it was as if his fingers were gilded in Eros’ heavenly blessing, the godly grace spilling into your pleasure. Tears began prickling at the sides of your eyes from how hard you were squeezing them, your flailing legs kicking against the dashboard of his car. 

“So pretty when you cry,” Toji groaned under his breath, his damp restraints painfully throbbing from the way your squelching walls tightened around his fingers—oh, how he fucking wish it was his cock in you right there and then. 

His touches were singing your walls into melting squirts of drool, pearls of arousal weeping between your thighs in the wake of his careful strokes. Never were you touched in such a way, and you felt like balling from how good it felt. “M’ close! M’gonna cum! Oh my gosh—!”

“Come on. Cum for me, princess,” you could hear his smirk in his voice as pleasure kissed your senses, fluttering through your electrified nerves and sending a jolt of tingles all over your body. Your mouth was lax open into an ‘o’, nails marking his skin as they sank deeper into his arm, and your walls tightly spasmed with a wave of rough euphoria cracking your bones weak. You fucking came from his mere fingers. 

Your eyes bat open with your lips sundered from your pants, your face ardently glowing from your subduing high. “Fuck…” your wet thighs quivered from the sheer force of your orgasm, and you blinked in disbelief. 

Over 2 decades of living and it was the first time cumming from a real man, not your fingers nor toys. But the brawny, sex-dripped male slipping your dress off of your spent body. 

You almost fell in love. 

Pushing him down the driver’s seat, you crawled over Toji’s firm thighs, running your finger from his chest to his muscle-packed abdomen, then down to the wristband. You were flickering to take charge, and he sank down to your guidance, rough palms resting on your hips. 

Your dress was off, divulging the bare curves of your body, sweat-glazed skin iridescent under the moonbeam and your sex-flushed features were begging for him. You look so, fucking, perfect that he had to bite down the need to ruin you on the spot. 

His hips impatiently thrust upwards into your sticky cunt, grinding his pack against you, urgency in his essence demanding your heat. “Don’t keep me waiting now,” he purred, with a silent warning tagging behind his words. 

Your fingers tugged the waistband of his pants along with his briefs, a drive in you matching his pacing hastiness. His shaft sprang out of its painful confinement, and your eyes nearly popped out from the sheer look of his cock. 

He was oozing with sticky pre-cum from his angry, red tip, throbbing veins ran from the base of his length to the curved head—the size of him bigger than any you’ve seen. The smell of his masculine essence hit your senses and a new pool of arousal began drawing in your tummy, your pussy walls squeezing in empty neediness.

“There’s no backing out now, princess,” Toji’s fingers firmly gripped onto your ass, lifting you over his cock, hovering.

“Who said I’m backing out?” you gulped, before lowering yourself down, his fat cockhead kissing your pussy lips before your hips greedily sank down his length, oblivious to the crackle of tingles it would send to your nerves.

“Careful there,” he teased with a chuckle as you let out an instinctual gasp from the way his girth stretched past your velvety walls, the slick sound of your arousal-dripped cunt, and his heavy shaft bubbled into the air, and scorched your cheeks red.

“M-My gosh…” you cried as your hazy gaze fell to the bulge jutting from the inside of your tummy, your walls taut with his heavy cock buried inside you. “I’m s’full, Toji.”

“Mhm,” he cooed, brushing his hands over the sides of your smooth thighs. “But you gotta start moving, baby.”

Gingerly, you lift your hips up before slowly inching them down his length. Your walls clenched as your sex rubbed friction, and you could feel every pulsing vein of his just as he could feel your fluttering warmth.

“Feel good, princess?” Toji asked breathily, your head faintly nodded, but there was a hint of a dubious glint in your fallen gaze, your knees lifting and sinking your weight.

“I need your help…” your voice cracked in disappointment as you paused, tears of frustration edging by your eyes. You couldn’t seem to grasp a steady pace no matter how long you painfully rode.

“What d’ya say?”

Your orbs looked as though they were melting off of your sweat-glazed skin, blinks of fervourish plea clawing from your drunken gaze into his. “Please, Toji,” your voice hitched, and you’re humping his pelvis. “Please…I want to feel good.”

Aww. How fucking adorable.

You yelped when you felt yourself being raised and slammed down his cock, your folds burning with every stretch of your walls. And it feels so good. “Y-Yes…” your eyes closed shut, fingers scrambling to grip his locks. “T-Toji—mhaa!”

“You’re so fuckin’ cute screaming my name,” the curve of his tip perfectly kissed your g-spot with each piston of his hips, and every time the twitching head of his meat met your gummy part, it sent a flash of electricity up your spine.

“S-Sho good—” you slurred through your words, weighed head lolling idly to every thrust of his fat cock.

“No one can get you dripping off their cock like this, huh?”

“Mmh—yes!” the space between your brows was crumpled into a tensed frown, your hips bouncing up and down his thick girth with his hands guiding your pace. “I love it! I love your cock!”

Toji let out a low groan when you cried, bucking himself deeper into your sloppy mess of a cunt and kissing the surface of your cervix. “Fuck—I love an honest girl.”

Your muscles nearly melted off of your bones as he continued to fucked himself deeper than you’ve ever felt, reaching the parts you didn’t know could be touched and your features dropped with his touches on your deep intimacy. A fierce sear of heat burned through your tingling womb, and it threatened to consume your body whole. “M’ cummin’! Toji—!”

“I know, I know, let it out f’me. Come on,” he grunted, keeping his grip firm on your arms as he fucked himself hard and deep into you. He could feel your squelching cunny clench, so tight as for the purpose of milking him on the spot. “Keep bouncin’ on my cock, yeah?”

“Nngh—No more!” you squealed. “N-No—” his thumb drew between your shaking thighs and greedily swiped over your blushing clit. Your fingernails sank into your palms as you gripped for dear sanity, his cock continuously violating your fluttering spots until they grew sore.

“I can make you feel better, princess,” he mumbled tinglingly against your neck, sinking his teeth down your flesh to hold back a shaky moan. His pleasure was inching to fly to release, and your tight clutch onto his shaft was nothing but a catalytic lure.

“S’ hurts—please!” your babbles were almost indecipherable as he rammed into your sore cunt, his fingers digging into your soft flesh holding onto you tenaciously; pushing you right to the edge of oblivion as he clung onto his nearing release.

“Cum f’me again, baby?”

“M’can’t! Still sensitive—!” you cried before another orgasm shot through your core. You felt as if you were sent up into the ether, stars teeming through your body as the waves of pleasure sent you on a vertigo ride. Your gasps dragged through your lips, your eyelids hung heavily over your bleary eyes, with tears slipping down your hot cheeks.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck—M’close too, baby,” Toji swore through his bared teeth, his cock painfully twitching as thick semen surged through his tip—his hips rolled as your cunt squeezed his remaining sanity, popping them like fireworks before they burst into nothingness.

Your essence squirted out of your tensed cunny, shooting with his mixed cum that dripped down his belly. Your breaths shaky and hot with heightened senses, your sticky sex pulsing in overstimulation.

Exhausted, you fell prostrated on top of his hard muscle-built body, head undulating with the ups and downs of his heaving chest. And slowly, your cognisance drifted back into your mind, the aftermath of everything—the alcohol and the sex, pummelled into you like a heavy truck. Unforgivingly so.

“Toji…I really feel like pukin—”

© toji-bunny-girl ― all rights reserved. do not modify, translate, plagiarise or repost my work

[desertdragon]

T/////Eight story amounted to basically nothing so I guess I'm back here to the other stupid as shit game I give too many chances on a more full time basis again (minus still writing my As///u/////Lil////i fic I love that thing too much and people in my DMs are counting on me for more)

At least I'll always have my friend and her best ending

And her faggot

EDIT: Ok it was nonsensical and full of holes like swiss cheese but now that i've calmed down this was always a goofy silly dumb game that cares less about taking itself seriously as it does being cool and fun, so while im disappointed and im allowed to be disappointed, im not running away with my expectations on this like others have. Tekken is still fun and will always have a place in my heart. And I do appreciate receiving some things I've always wanted regardless of my upsets with their execution flaws. They were finally able to make me feel like my favorite characters have closure on some level regardless, and that has to be commended.