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#i think the first one could be a real reaction

999h34rt · 2 days

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MISS 20 SOMETHING | EMILY ENGSTLER

➣ emily engslter x gf!reader

➣ sypnosis: comments are always expected when you're a 20 year old girlfriend of 25 year old WNBA player, but at the annual team dinner, y/n finally breaks.

➣ warnings: 5 year age gap. underage drinking.

➣ a short one

You were fresh 19 when you met your now girlfriend, Emily. There wasn't necessarily a cute story on how you two dated, you just clicked. Met at a local new york bar, which you weren’t supposed to be in but you somehow got into. And to be frank, you did tell Em your real age.

You being a child star, had its perks. Fame (which you didn’t see as a perk) , no money problems,connections and more. But also it had its disadvantages, for one, people always think your young. Which you were, but being with a 24 year old, made it worse.

The 5 year age gap wasn’t that bad, but it was enough of a gap for critics or haters to talk about or give their opinion to. Neither you or Emily cared, it seemed like it was you two against the world.

When you first met Emilys friends, it was 4 months into your relationship. The meet up was fine, all had fun but they’re also comments, jokes, which you laughed off even though some of them bothered you.

If you did tell Emily how you felt, it would make you seem like a child, immature. So you guessed its better to put up with it hoping they would stop at some point.

☆

they didn’t.

This girl just didn’t stop, she was brutal with it too. She was a teammates plaything of the month, you would assume, as you watched the player get annoyed by her.

You sighed after you laughed off another one of her comments, as you turned to your right, you were met with Ems brown eyes, immediately tension eased off your shoulders as she smiled at you. “You okay?” she asked with her eyes.

“Yes” you responded with yours.

Just put up with it, you told yourself, it’s worth it for her.

As you got into a conversation with another spouse, you could feel the bitches eyes on the other side of your face. You didn’t know what her problem is or what you had done to her. but it seemed like she wanted a reaction out of you.

“Emily i seriously don’t know how you do it” She said 10 minutes ago, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

“Do what?” Em responded confused.

“Babysit every day” She laughed. Only 3 other people laughed, Emily forced out a chuckle and you a smile which didn’t reach your eyes. The whole table didn’t say anything, just watched the scene awkwardly, before you finally broke the silence and opened another conversation.

You thought she was done with that one. but nope.

When the waiter came back to get refill orders a couple minutes after, you had ordered a glass of wine, and as soon as the waiter was out of the room.

“Are you even old enough to drink wine, Miss 20 something?” she asked laughing. Her partner side eyed her, and you heard the conversation stop at the end of the table.

But you just laughed, and continued your conversation with Em. And yes, you were old enough, in a European country yes. And you were literally two weeks away from turning 21 so it didn’t matter.

But after that, you could tell that she wasn’t actually joking, she just wanted something out of you. Even when you first came in, she only shook Ems hand and ignored yours but you just shook it off.

Normally you were used to the comments, they were jokes and sometimes they bothered you but you knew people actually liked you and weren’t disrespecting you. but she was.

you finally had enough when Emily was telling a story.

“… and i was 18 at the time-”

“18? that means y/n was 13 right? woah” she cut off Em. Just as the vibe was good, the whole table filled with tension. You heard Em sigh, and could tell she was sick of it too.

You finally enough.

“Are you done?” You asked her. Her face turned to you surprised but satisfied.

“What do you mean?”

“I asked if you’re done throwing jabs at me”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” she said innocently sipping her drink.

“Don’t even-” you scoffed. “You say im a child but you’re the only one here trying to bring drama in my face, and frankly i have had enough”

“What the f-”

“No don’t talk you’ve said enough and embarrassed yourself already” You cut her off. "You think it bothers me what you think, no it doesn't. Because the whole table knows the only child here is you. If you actually thinks it's mature of you to hate on me, Miss 20 something when you're a Miss almost 40 something then that just shows what a child actually is"

You heard gasps and a oop, but you also felt Em put her hand on your thigh. Which meant approval.

"How dare you? I'm 30"

"Well you should start trying botox hun" And with that you ended the conversation and encouraged Em to finish her story. the whole vibe was back to normal.

And at the end of the night when you both returned to your shared appartment, you kicked your heels off and felt brown eyes staring at the back of your head. You turned and saw the same question resting in Ems eyes as earlier, and this time you responded your voice. "I'm fine"

"That’s good baby" She responded and starting walking towards you, you felt her instinct to pick you up and immediately opened your legs wrapping them around her waist, her tattooed hands went lower and to your ass cheeks as she kissed you. Taking you to bed.

☆

➣ miss 21 something ( kinda part 2?)

#emily engstler #emily engstler x reader #louisville #washington mystics #em engstler #emily engstler x y/n #emily engstler imagine #wnba #lesbian

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werecreature-addicted · 23 hours

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Hey, I love your fics. Your romance stories drive me wild with excitement. I did have this idea in my head: Two guys are going to a fancy dinner tonight, but one is secretly a vampire and one is secretly a werewolf. Neither of them knows the other is a supernatural creature and trying to act normal.

Later, somehow an incident forces them to reveal their monster sides and instead of freaking out, they would make out with each other rough and crazy. Just wanted to see what would you do with it. (You don't have too its fine..)

it's a cute simple dinner date at a fancy restaurant but things go downhill quickly. first, the vampire explains their garlic allergy to the waiter who assures them they'll be careful. "what are you, a vampire?" the werewolf jokes and the vampire laughs a little too hard at that before very firmly stating that vampires aren't real. despite the promise, the vampire's food comes out loaded with Garlic.

The next hitch is the fact that the silverware is real silver, the werewolf doesn't realize until they try and take a bite and it burns their mouth they choke on their food and drop their silverware too. the waiter brings them new silverware...also silver.

it's a painful and awkward meal at both, but they kind of bond over the fact that they both mostly eat the free bread rather than the food they ordered.

After dinner, they go for a nice moonlit walk through the park. it's nice and nothing could possibly go wrong! the sun is set and it's not a full moon so there is nothing that could possibly go wrong. until they run into a mutual friend, who's Fea and happens to live in the woods next to this park.

Now the werewolf doesn't know they're on a date with a vampire and the vampire doesn't know they're on a date with a werewolf, but the Fea knows both of them are supernatural creatures and doesn't think there is any reason to hide magic, so the three talk for a little while then the Fea just poofs out of existence in a cloud of glitter.

Both of them freeze not knowing what to do. their presumably human date just saw magic. they both look at each other waiting for the freak-out reaction.

"so...uhm-"

"Who told you about magic?"

"Who told you about magic-"

they talk openly and figure out the truth. they have a much better night not hiding anything.

#monster imagine #monster #monster fucker #monster boyfriend #teratophillia #werewolf #werewolf x reader #werewolves #werewolf boyfriend #werewolf x vampire #vampire

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ratscapism · 23 hours

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trying to get the rhaenyra theon feelings sorted out in text:

for one, it's the "smiling always smiling" while emotionally guarded vibes. there's a scene in E1 for instance where alicent tries to get rhaenyra to talk about her vulnerabilities and rhaenyra just… blocks. there's several moments where it's like child you are NOT smiling right now but you are! <3 (like during the violence at the tourney). and this air of not taking things seriously enough but actually whenever she reveals her thoughts you notice that she's been paying close attention, that she's bright and focused and that all this is a way to guard her heart. i think you could relate this to them both growing up in somewhat unsafe environments, obviously being winterfell's hostage and growing up in a cut-throat court environment ripe with manipulation and machinations is not quite the same, but in both case you gain a child that does Not Trust (and for good reason!)

the way in which they both need to move around and physically exert themselves to calm down when stressed.

then of course you have the entire, it is my birthright but someone else is considered more suitable/you are not suitable (any more) because you're a hostage/a girl. and some of the unfairness they decry at this is, from a modern pov a bit: well but it is not Good to want that, right? theon: i should get to be an ironborn reaver who commands women and smallfolk. rhaenyra: i should get to be a male heir who may crawl brothels and father countless bastards in inpunity. and it is, sure, aegon and daemon (and robert, and….) all do precisely just that, so i get you, but what they want is also full access to a privilege that is violent in the first place.

related to the theme: is ambition evil? is this type of ambition evil? both don't want to be Bad lords they want to be Good lords but maybe they are driven more closely by emotions. maybe they end up doing things on their road to fight for their ambitions that are violent. tyrannical maybe even. murderous. they have been failed and cheated from what they were indeed entitled to but so should they have just let it go? and both with real emotional familial ties also driving their ambitions - their fathers and their father's wishes, rhaenyra's children.

detail: rash, bold, ambitious, actually pretty clever, and disobedient moves to "prove her worth" that yet earns her no credit and no safety

also the "spoiled brat" "he/she should be more grateful" etc type angle. like yes: clearly they both are noble characters growing up cush at the top of the feudal hierarchies in castles with tutors nice clothing and so on and so forth, so while they complain about life being hard for them many others suffer and starve. but also they are expected to be grateful and obedient to what harms and controls them (theon: the hostage system; rhaenyra: womanhood). and their fears get a bit dismissed. in a meta way. theon feared for his life and in a way, so did also rhaenyra ("my mother was forced to squeeze out heirs until it killed her"). like not wanting that fate is not being an entitled selfish brat. it's not failing at gratitude! and yet!

anddd the sexually abusive evil uncle. well that's way more explicit with rhaenyra of course.

kind of theon also how rhaenyra's victimisation then casts her as "filthy". how her reactions to her circumstances make her a bad survivor who doesn't deserve sympathy any more because of a bad attitude. like, say, the night out with beloved sexually abusive predatory uncle. then coming home from this in a bad way (criston immediately: are you hurt, princess?) and the fallout is she's a whore. latches on to criston, you could say he took advantage of her state but also it's ambiguous and messy and i don't think either of them did something terrible there, but the fallout literally all: she's bad, she's inappropriate, she's irresponsible, she's dirty, how could she! (including the best friend!). but when she then also makes deliberate subsequent choices that prove her deliberation and agency in this, that she means to find sexual joy and she will. which means that….. she never was victimised in the first place? she was irresponsible all along? "she gets to have everything"? spoiled cunt after all?

generally i feel the way in which all these factors - playing it with a smile, acting wilful, being trouble, having a "bad attitude" make her into, idk, Not Deemed Vulnerable. as they say about theon: he was treated soooo well!

also not sure whom to connect that to - not euron, not thramsay, not throbb, but WHAT is this relationship with daemon! i'm So interested yet so upset. maybe the seeking safety, power and freedom in hurtful places. ending up yet very alone with how you're being harmed. of course, this is all extremely, extremely bleak. theon is about seeking freedom and breaking free which all devolves into horror but that doesn't mean that the seeking was meaningless nor that there aren't pockets of escape. i guess i'm always more interested when the paths of victim-perpetrator-agency-entrapment converge so messily, maybe that's the connection. (but the choking scene! i knew this was going to be bleak, but this is really very bleak.)

rhaenicent-throbb has been compared already from what i see and sure you have the close very special friend who is also your king/queen who may command you and whom you let down and maybe for halfway good reason (rhaenyra DID lie to alicent but also her mistrust was well-placed?) but the "betrayal" if you should even call it that is still catastrophic. part of if isn't even rhaenyra's fault but viserys's and otto's joint work but then neither was everything theon's fault. i thought you and i were in this together but then you do this to me. you leave me behind with all this, having destroyed some of what was dear to me, and i trusted you! but then of course alicent is certainly no robb. selkie is correct here in stating they both are theon.

to end on a slightly positive note from the theon emotions pov rhaenyra's (brief) luck in creating this queer little family built on mutual trust and friendship and protection is rather what i would hope could be possible for theon in the future. including having 'heirs'. i mean of course the thing with rhaenyra's heirs is they actually are her heirs (her being the mother) and yet there's all sorts of complications as we can see. so maybe my fantasising about smooth underhanded greyjoy succession has been a bit too rosy lol.

#theon greyjoy #rhaenyra targaryen

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iamnmbr3 · 1 day

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hi there!!🫶🏻

Just a sad theory...how do you think Harry would've reacted if Draco had been killed (canon Harry ofc)?

Like how he'd react if death occurred in fiendfyre scene or after malfoy manor scene or after he couldn't kill dombledore and he escaped with snape or when he pleads to death eater but this time death eater kills him(better say each reaction of his in these situations if they make difference lol)

Think of this so much but can't find my answer...

Hello! It's always such a delight to see your questions in my inbox. They're invariably thoughtful and fascinating.

I think you're right that when Draco died specifically in canon would have huge implications for the specifics of how Harry would react. Generally though, if it occurred in book 7 during the war I think Harry would be very shaken by it and much more upset than others, or even he himself, might expect or understand. But he would try to compartmentalize it at the time.

Just like how after the Manor sequence he compartmentalizes and puts Draco out of his mind because he knows Draco may well be brutally killed as punishment for Harry's escape. He knows - and it horrifies him so much that for the first time ever he manages to block out Voldemort so he doesn't have to see it - but he has a mission to complete. All this suffering and death can't be for nothing. It just can't. Remember, following that escape there's a real turning point for Harry. He becomes single minded in his purpose to complete his mission whatever the cost and stops worrying or doubting or thinking of anything else. I think Draco's death would have a similar but even stronger effect on him.

But then the war ends. And he has time to think. And something about that particular death just haunts him even though it shouldn't really. I mean, he and Draco were never friends right? It's not like he cared for him? ... Right? And yet somehow as the years slip by he can't seem to get Draco out of his head. Wondering what could have been, whether Harry could have or should have done more? What would have happened if he'd thought to try to help him in sixth year, if he'd realized the full extent of Draco's doubts and vulnerability before that fateful night on the Astronomy tower? The years slip by and maybe Harry marries Ginny but feels that somethings's always just a little bit lacking in his marriage or maybe he breaks up with her and finds someone else, or no one at at all. But always in the back of his mind something is missing. There's some unanswered question. And whenever he goes back to visit Hogwarts he always finds himself turning to look across the Hall to meet a pair of grey eyes that aren't there.

Now, to get into the specific scenarios you mentioned:

if death occurred in fiendfyre scene

In this scenario I think Harry would feel a lot of personal guilt since he would feel that he failed to save Draco. Furthermore, he would probably also feel that perhaps Draco might have lived if Harry hadn't taken his wand. He's probably sick with horror in the immediate aftermath but pulls himself together long enough to complete his mission. And then the guilt plagues him for the rest of his life. At first he thinks that's all it is but over time he and others start wondering if there was something special about Draco, something more to him, to make him haunt Harry's thoughts so much.

Where it really gets interesting is there's also the possibility that Draco appears as one of the resurrection stone shades, which has all sorts of fun angst potential.

The other issue here is that Draco is dead when Narcissa asks about him. I think Harry probably still answers honestly but I think it doesn't change much since now she has nothing to lose and wants to avenge her son so she still lies for Harry.

2. after malfoy manor scene

So again, Harry definitely feels personal responsibility here. He also really dwells on the fact that Draco saved his life and died because of it. I think in any case where Draco dies after the "I can't be sure" sequence Harry spends a lot of time postwar thinking about what Draco did and why he did it and all the questions he'll never get to ask him and wondering whether if he'd done more earlier - during 6th year or another time - Draco could have gone down another path and been saved. Especially in this scenario though where Draco dies immediately after, essentially sacrificing his life for Harry.

Another interesting thing in this scenario is the question of whether Narcissa lives. If Voldemort doesn't kill her too then she still has her wand since there's no Draco for her to give it to. She might want revenge on both Voldemort - for killing her son - and Harry, for taking his wand and leaving him defenseless and for escaping. But also maybe part of her knows the wand might not have made a difference and that Draco surely recognized Harry and made his choice. Maybe she meets Harry during the battle and attacks him and wants to kill him but changes her mind in the end. Maybe they fight early on but then in the forest she saves his life because she knows Voldemort is the real enemy and she knows that Draco gave his life to save Harry's. Or maybe she even tries to take down Voldemort herself.

3. after he couldn't kill dumbledore and he escaped with snape

Ooh! This is interesting. I wonder how fast Harry would find out. He might discover it much later. We know he spends a lot of time worrying about Draco after the end of book 6 so this would basically be all his worries being confirmed. OR he might actually witness it through a vision from Voldemort. Since this would happen before the Horcrux hunt is really going on in earnest I think Harry would spend a lot of time brooding over it and it would give him a sense of purpose and a need to end the war before any more innocent lives are lost. Maybe Harry tells himself it's just a general feeling of responsibility, but it's also about grief and revenge over Draco in particular, even though rationally he knows Draco isn't someone he should be feeling this way about.

Of course, in this scenario a lot of other things in the story go very differently. First of all, Voldemort may become the true Master of the Elder Wand by defeating Draco (at least according to the canon version of wandlore; I think possibly he could never have mastered it because his fear of death meant it would always have chosen Harry) which means Harry might have died in the duel at the end....

Assuming he even made it that far because the Manor sequence would also go very differently. The Malfoys (assuming any of them were even left alive by that point and Voldemort didn't just massacre the whole family) might not be able to conclusively identify Harry and co right away and might have thrown them into the cells they had while they decided what to do (giving them a chance to escape) but they also might have chanced it and called Voldemort. Voldemort would've killed Harry on sight...thus destroying the Horcrux in Harry and knocking both of them out for a moment. Then Harry of course comes back to life. This means he might've had a chance to surprise everyone and try to escape (if so there's still probably a lot more carnage and death and everyone probably doesn't make it out not to mention Harry also doesn't get Draco's wand) or he might just end up getting killed a second time.

Really brings home how Draco - and his devotion to Harry - is a key part of what enables Harry to win in book 7. Voldemort really was defeated by the power of drarry.

4. when he pleads to death eater but this time death eater kills him

Harry definitely still tries to save him and feels terrible guilt over not being fast enough. Also here Draco dies right in front of him and his body is just lying there right where Harry can see it. He probably is momentarily distracted until his friends remind him they have a mission. He never gets the image out of his mind though.

#asks #Harry Potter #drarry #Draco Malfoy

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halliescomut · 2 days

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Just a small point...

have any of you considered that when it appears that an actor is being so weirdly awkward on screen that it might be an acting choice/direction and not them being a bad actor?

But you know where we used to see this conversation a lot. Around Robert Pattinson and Twilight. Everyone swore up and down that he was such a terrible actor and so fucking weird in Twilight (the full series technically) and now over a decade later it becomes clear that his behavior was an acting choice, because we've seen what else he can do, and specifically how well he can do it.

Because I see A LOT of really rude things being said about Peat in the first ep of Love Sea, and I just wonder if that's something you ever thought about? Now everyone is being intentionally vague and weird, but I'm assuming the scene they're talking about is the robe-seduction scene, and honestly, while it did seem awkward, I was honestly more distracted by Mut/Fort and the whole discussion about body hair removal, but I digress...

Rewatching the scene...it feels intentional, to me. Now maybe it's not, maybe it was the best take they could get, maybe Peat was having an off day, who knows?

But do you want to know what I was thinking as I rewatched the ep? (I'm gonna tell you anyway.) I was thinking about how we've now established that Rak needs to be banging someone in order to get sex scenes written. He's done this in the past, more than once. Since he's a 'city boy' he was likely going to clubs and picking up random men, or potentially had a FWB situation, hell maybe he even paid for escorts, who knows. But now he's in this tiny little town, he really only knows Mut, and Mut has clearly shown some sexual interest, and so he's thinking 'Well this is my only option if I want to finish this damn book.' But see...in the past if he never had to be the one pursuing, or seducing, then he wouldn't really know how to do that, and like let's be real Mut's reactions would thrown anyone off their game. So overall the whole thing feels weird and awkward because IT IS INDEED WEIRD AND AWKWARD.

Just something to think about.

#love sea the series #love sea ep 1 #fortpeat #peat wasuthorn #fort thitipong #mutrak #tongrak x mahasamut #tongrak #mahasamut

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multi-lefaiye · 10 months

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Yknow what here's a fun one for you: Do they see The Stepford Wives(2004) as mainly a Comedy, a Horror, or a Cringefest? (i'm in the horror camp, it unnerves me a lot worse than the original did.) and for a little queer test, how do they feel about Roger specifically.

OKAY GENUINELY THOUGH-

i think i actually remember seeing people bring up the stepford wives in a conversation about misinterpretations of midsommar, but i'll admit i haven't seen it myself so there's not much i can add here.

i also wanna do on a quick side tangent here. under the cut b/c this is rambly nonsense

so i'm not at all opposed to the usage of terms like "cozy horror" or w/e but goddamn the use of that gets on my nerves at times. i don't think it's at all bad to find comfort in horror, even more disturbing and upsetting horror concepts, but i think it's important to examine *why* you find something comforting. and i think midsommar is a *fantastic* example of this idea.

midsommar is a movie about a vulnerable person being drawn into and manipulated by a white supremacist cult. that's it. i see a lot of people describe it as cozy horror or a hard-hitting feminist narrative about a woman escaping a shitty boyfriend to find a community of people who truly care about her, and to be honest a lot of those arguments are significantly more disturbing to me than the movie itself, haha! because that isn't even a surface level reading of the movie--it's straight-up just falling for the same indoctrination that the main character experiences.

i don't think it's a red flag or anything for someone to enjoy midsommar or find some kind of comfort in that story (for example, i find it kind of cathartic in some ways to see the tragedy and horror of midsommar unfold, especially considering my personal history i won't be getting into here), but i am *very* suspect of people labeling it as "cozy horror" because i think that takes the bite out of this story. because it's not *cozy*, it's a horrific scenario and the ending is genuinely devastating if you're not approaching it through the superficial white feminist lens the cult uses to recruit the main character.

i don't know how much sense any of this makes actually, i just have a lot of thoughts about how people engage with horror as a genre. and like yeah sure there's no *wrong* way to enjoy fiction, but i am so so uneasy with folks who miss the point that fucking bad. because, y'know, not to make any broad sweeping generalizations, but how people interpret movies like midsommar can be *really fucking telling* for how they might handle a real situation like that.

(obligatory disclaimer: i am not at all saying that people who enjoy darker fiction like that or enjoy midsommar would be completely okay with a real-life cult situation like that. i'm just saying that people who look at midsommar as a girlboss feminist victory narrative about a woman taking revenge against her shitty boyfriend............. you missed the point to such a spectacular degree that i'm wary of whatever other opinions you might have regarding gender, race, etc.)

#talk to the bunnykitty #luesmainblog #just!!! idk i have a lot of thoughts #and i love talking about this #also for me. one of my favorite comfort movies of all time is the conjuring #the first one not the other two #but i think the real life ed and lorraine warren were fuckin con artists who exploited the people they ''helped''#and honestly i could type a thesis paper probably on shit in the first conjuring that is concerning #but we don't have time for that #just idk y'all. be critical of the media you consume. examine your reactions to it.

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screampied · 3 months

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‘ THINK I NEED SOMEONE OLDER ! ’

ᡴꪫ‎ synopsis. university sucks major ass. on the bright side, you’re on break—you decide to go pay your father a visit. this 'visit' ends up to you being introduced to his best friend, toji. who’s he? maybe your panties know the answer.

wc. 7.4k

warnings. fem! reader, dad's best friend! toji, age gap (reader is over twenty), praise, cunnilingús, squìrting, implied multiple órgasms, unprotected, degradation, size difference, impact play, poor dad is kinda clueless, almost caught, overstimulation.

dbf! masterlist

“who’s he?”

a simple question — yet the moment the words ran out your mouth, it felt as if all eyes were on you. in reality, it was though. the tall man who was quite a few staggering inches taller than your own father had such a gaze. he had hands buried into the depths of his pockets, shifting his weight as he stood still before burning a stare right into you. an intense stare, you could almost make out somewhat of an intriguing smirk. that sly smile with an everlasting scar running down the right side of his mouth.

“hey honey,” your father waves out with a brief gesture. he throws an arm around the buff man before giving him a rough pat on the back. “this is toji. met him ‘bout a year ago at one of those boat races. heh, news flash—he lost.”

“woah. no need to embarrass me, man,” toji murmurs in a raspy tone and by all means was his voice deep. laced in pure baritone, far deeper than your fathers. by a mile, to be specific. his voice has a jagged huskiness to it, insanely attractive. as he spoke, his eyes flickered towards you and he’d occasionally look away with that same chaffing sneer. “but anyway,” toji averts his eyes back towards you. his cologne was loud, you could smell it from miles away from you. he pauses for a few good seconds before uttering. “it’s nice to meet ya, sweetheart.”

you gulped, suddenly feeling small. you couldn’t pinpoint what it was about him — his demeanor, the way he carried himself, anything was. but it was something that had you a bit drawn in so to speak. “i um..”

“she’s not that much of a speaker,” your father chuckles, giving you a soft rub near your back. “poor brain’s probably all fried from those midterms. right honey?”

“you don’t say.” toji raises a brow, glancing away for a moment and a smile tugged right against his his dimples—and for a moment, he was suddenly intrigued by his best friend’s daughter.

that was the initial first reaction between the two of you. you ended up staying at your father’s house for the remaining duration of your visit.

nothing too much sparked between the two of you, of course there’d be subtle moments. real subtle moments—stupid things, like having him help you grab something from one of the top shelves.

of course he’d help, he was taller than you by many many inches. effortlessly towering over you. it’s the way he’d press up against you. it was quite hard to shut those thoughts of yours up. those lewd salacious thoughts that were forever kept into the very back of your brain, silently fantasizing about your father’s best friend.

apparently, he stayed for quite around the same time you did since he and your father would typically hang, do all sorts of men activities you never really cared about—golfing, shooting ranges, watching the most recent football games. that was the most annoying part, how they’d both obnoxiously yell at the screen whenever their favorite team was pathetically losing.

your room was directly upstairs, you heard everything. it was as if the walls were merely thin. in a way, they were. the constant repetitious hollering from the two men were so irksome. eyes merely rolled to the back of your head whilst you were trying to scroll on your phone in peace.

you never did understand why a dumb game of balls would drive men so crazy. nevertheless, you let off a tiny sigh before plopping right down in your bed. immensely, you stared off into space.

you had no idea why, but the minute your eyes linger into the white nearly peeled off drywall near the ceiling, you thought about him. toji.

stupid, maybe…

it’s been a few days and you hardly knew the guy. encounters between him were subtle and brief. he’d nod his head at you, barely acknowledging your existence and going straight back to some meaningless conversation with your father.

there was one day however, one day that had you hot all over. it was when you walked in on toji, he was using the spare shower that no one really uses, it’s reserved mostly for guests—perfect for him in this case.

you remember it like it was yesterday. since you were wide awake during this time for whatever reason, your dad sent you to go replace some towels from downstairs since he was doing laundry so you mindlessly make your way downstairs. the door was visibly cracked. sure, you probably should have knocked but who takes showers around three am?

apparently, this guy.

toji was literally just getting out the shower when you walked in. steam fogged throughout the entire space.

it was hot, stuffy and dampened with mist clinging against the rectangular mirrors. smothered with fog, you practically end up bumping right into something hard.

to be specific, that something was toji’s broad chest. maybe you were a bit delusional but you could have sworn, the moment you made contact with his bulky pecs, it moved upon impact.

“excuse you, sweetheart,” toji would scoff teasingly, his low voice was a bit more rougher since it was late at night. you were definitely speechless, barely able to process a single word from your mouth. thankfully a towel was wrapped around his slim torso—yet you started to wish maybe he didn’t have it protecting his lower half.

your eyes stuck to his chest the entire time, talk about embarrassing. immediately, your pretty dilated pupils ran down his chest, down his v-line, his perfectly structured build . . and then, his happy trail. he was well trimmed of the sort, practically. toji’s version of well trimmed was a bit hairy. regardless, it was still an attractive feature.

the more your eyes rove, the more you glance at his nearly perfectly sculptured structure. his chest was painted with a plethora of battle scars, now you were the one intrigued. you wanted to know more.

“you’re a little rude, huh,” and you abruptly snap from your thoughts. it was so brusque…

returning back to reality, out of that lewd trance you were so desperately trapped in—you blink twice, not even realizing how he was right up close to you. toji stares down at you before sneering. “it’s like three am. shouldn’t you be in bed?”

you shift your feet a bit, maintaining a little distance before trying to reply in the best nonchalant way possible. “uh no,” and then you utter awkwardly. “shouldn’t you be in bed? who randomly wakes up to take showers this late?”

“guys my age,” he jibes. “ya wouldn’t get it.”

you deadpan, fully aware it was a joke but you held everything in you to not have your eyes roll all the way back. “whatever,” and then you nearly forget what you were about to do. he watches you, you open near the lower cabinet and replace the clean towels. it grew profoundly quiet, a pin could drop. the moment you turned around, toji scoffs to himself. “did you need anything? something else?”

“ah. thank you, i’m fine, princess,” toji huffs with a sly grin. he reaches near the small wooden table to grab what seemed to be a half-used lotion bottle. however, you didn’t expect for him to completely change the topic, flipping your own words around with a blunt, “do you need something?”

“huh?”

“you heard me, girl.”

the banter…

he was definitely cocky, playful, literally any other synonym would fit.

you hated how he’d get you speechless everytime. you loathed how he was such an effect on you. with a brief gnaw on your bottom lip you narrow your eyes, mumbling out a, “stupid question.”

“i agree,” toji smirks. “but eh. y’er a smart girl. ‘m sure you can come up with a good comeback soon.”

he was so annoying, entirely so.

it’d be simple interactions like that between the two of you. much to your surprise though, nothing really else happened. toji would tease you a bit then pretend nothing happened, throw you a compliment or two and call it a day.

toji would often visit daily or twice a day, mainly to hang with your father. you could care less about what they did, but you were bored out of your mind from being in the house all day. you could go out, but it’s not like you had anyone to go with. everyone was either busy or … busy. besides, most of your friends were on exotic vacations or out of the country—you sighed, rubbing a hand against your stomach as you stared in the ceiling wall.

but then, the most lasciviously filthy thought made its way into your thoughts. you thickly swallowed before reaching a hand down between your legs. the air grew abnormally dry, shame…

to be completely honest, you couldn’t even remember the last time you touched yourself. this couldn’t have ever been a more perfect time. you were sure your father and his cocky best friend was out at top golf, probably.

intaking a single breath, you lean back against your pillow—slowly, you started to focus on your breathing.

parting your legs, you lightly pull down your shorts before tugging your panties to the side. you wince for a little, realizing how you were already a bit soaked. a little dampened spot right towards the front part of your underwear. you knew it had to be from pondering about toji.

speaking of, you remember that time where he helped—well, ‘attempted’ to cook dinner that one time. all you could focus on was his hands. such rough thick hands, you wondered what’d it feel like to have those same hands gingerly wrap around your throat. such thick fingers shove down your throat while he calls you such degrading names—just anything.

the more you were deep in thought, the more drenched you started to become. you went slow, being patient with yourself. you imagined it was toji’s fingers instead of yours. such big fingers thrusting in and out of you.

steadily, you start to insert a single finger in. a middle finger, it felt good, you suppressed a single moan and by this point, your imagination was running wild. you allowed your body to relax for a few moments before you slipped another finger inside. seconds later, you started to gentle move around inside your clit. your pace was sweet and precise—you let out a soft moan that rang throughout your thin walls. “toji—f-fuckkk.”

your voice was shaky, imagining toji being here right now made you throb ten times more. just propped all up behind you, thrashing his fingers against your swollen folds made you more aroused than you ever thought. your thrusts against your own entrance was small, a steady pace but irregular enough to make your knees start to buckle.

throwing your head back a little, you started to whine as each second dragged. your breath became insignificantly heavy, hitched and all. you made sure to stimulate in all the right areas, adapting to a perfect rhythm, then that’s when you’re rudely interrupted. talk about a cliche.

“hey. is it anymore detergen—”

toji pauses mid sentence, literally trying to process the scenery in front of him. he stands still and his initial reaction was slow. the first thing he does is chortle lowly. “well, shit. is this a bad time?”

you’ve never felt anymore embarrassed in your life, a sudden wave of heat rushed over your body before you quickly shielded yourself with your blanket. “oh my god,” you’d squeak out, and toji averts his eyes elsewhere for a few seconds. “i thought you all left already.”

toji hums. he takes a moment, and it’s as if he’s thinking of what to say. he was amused, seeing your flustered state and he looks back at you. “we were but it got canceled last minute since a storm’s approaching,” and you let off a soft gulp, hearing his footsteps creak against your wooden floor as he got closer. “thank god it was me who came in here ‘n not your father, right princess? now that’d be embarrassing.”

“stop calling me that,” you grumble, and you don’t even realize how soft and weak your voice was. you slowly pull your fingers out before intaking another sharp breath. he glanced at you before simpering. “haven’t you heard of knocking?”

“girl,” toji utters in a low rasp. “the door was wide open. i can’t knock on air,” and you mentally eye rolled — he was so insufferable. incredibly so, toji’s eyes roam across your old room that was a bit scattered with some boxes from when you moved out four years ago. it was a bit unkempt, your father usually used your room sometimes just to store things from the attic. toji buried his hands into his pockets before chuckling. “i heard you, ya know. moaning my name all loud like that.”

you blinked thrice, sitting up before compressing your eyebrows together. “what?”

“whaaat?” he jeers, mocking you. toji inches closer towards you until he was right beside your bedside. you gaze up at him and he had a blunt sticking out from the corner of his lips. he looked so appetizing, even while dressed down. ripped jeans and a sweatshirt. you could tell he was fit, of course he was—you saw him shirtless. he was well likely in his early thirties, dressing so laid back and casual. “between you and me, sweetheart, you can do better. ‘s cute ‘n all but that’s not how ya finger yourself. been a while, yeah?”

this guy, he was so bold. casually speaking his dirty mind, not afraid to say anything.

you don’t know why, but those last few words made you throb. you loathed how right he was, it was as if he could read you like a book. between studies and actually living a university student’s life, you barely ever get time to yourself. time to please yourself.

“whatever,” you utter. “yeah... it’s been a while.”

“poor thing,” he clicks his tongue before taking a seat on your bed. it jitters from his weight for a bit before he peers a gaze at you. “hm,” he puffs out, dragging a hand against his jeans. “i’d be happy to help though. those useless fingers of yours can only please you so much, right? heh.”

this indescribable effect he had on you, it heavily irked your nerves. “…please,” and you don’t even register what quickly came out of your mouth.

you were so pent up by this point, being interrupted. you wanted to finish, you desperately wanted to finish. your soft breaths hitched, and toji’s intimate stare lingered on you for a bit. his loud cologne started to waft across the entire room, so intoxicating. “just make me finish, please.”

“there’s those manners,” he coos in a husky tone, and he gets up closer. he was purely teasing you, you just wanted to feel his touch . . . feel something at least. he pulls the fat cover that went over you, yet at a more tantalizingly slow pace. he was a mere tease, you nearly let off a whine once you felt the tips of his warm fingers skim past your thighs. “messy girl,” he mumbles, and then he pauses to glance at you. “are you sure? jus’ wanna-”

“toji,” you mutter, and you liked hearing you roll his name so sweetly off your tongue. seeing you grow purely frustrated was utter amusement to him. the way your eyebrows would curl and furrow, irises flaring and your jaw slightly tensing. you had such readable body language by default too. “please. i want you. just touch me.”

he simpers. “pretty please.”

“……”

again, he was so infuriating. you felt yourself starting to pant, not knowing how much longer you could take as he started to softly trail a thumb against your skin. his touch was so warm, it was intense and ignited something within you.

“touch me—pretty please, toji.” you mutter out, sprawling your legs out just a bit. it was so hot, the temperature surrounding the atmosphere of the room was so humid. he glances at you before smiling.

“that’s a good girl.”

his words warmed your heart in such a lewd provocative way, you just wanted his touch.

desperately yearning for it, toji leans up close, bringing a big hand to part your legs apart and he was so slow. he takes the blunt that was propped up between his teeth, setting it aside near your nightstand. you prepare to inhale deeply, not expecting him to then bring a tender kiss towards your inner thighs. he started to create a trail—a trail that gingerly went up and up and up.

“so sensitive,” he’d purr, watching your own body melt from just the softness of his lips against your skin. you wanted him to hurry, you replayed this exact scenario over and over at least a dozen times. now that it was reality, you just knew that your body wanted him. “oh. don’t give me that look,” and he smirks, watching the pout grow against your lips. “gonna stare at me all day or are ya gonna tell me how you’d like for me to start?”

“i need you to—eat me out,” you huff out in short singular breaths. you were throbbing rapidly, each moment he stalled to speak, the more aroused you grew. his warm breath just fanning against your folds had you nearly going weak.

he snickers. “need?” he repeats, and you moan once he swiftly drags a finger down your soaked cunt. it was drenched, but it could be a bit more. toji hums to himself cockily. “you don’t need shit, girl. fix your sentence ‘n talk proper..”

“i—” you gripe, starting to grow more and more frustrated. your vexed facial expression amused him. he raises his darkened brows, awaiting for your answer and the cute pout that continued to stretch across your lips was so cute. “i— i want you to eat me out, pretty please.”

“much better,” he says in a low gruff. the moment he finally hovers his mouth over your sopping clit, toji gently strokes a thumb up and down. opening you up slowly, he creates a single slow lick to make you whimper. “i’ll make ya cum quicker than you ever could, princess.”

and you knew he probably wouldn’t lie about a simple fact like that. toji’s touch, it was sloppy.

without a doubt, he was a messy eater.

just one taste of you and he was hooked—a new addiction for him and it wasn’t gambling.

you tasted sweet, candied even. he was in so deep, occasionally the tip of his nose would prod against your entrance. you slumped back against the bed, your legs twitching in pleasure. not before long, your lips started to part and you started to gnaw on your hardened knuckles. you didn’t wanna be too loud—you just remembered your father was right downstairs.

he didn’t have the best hearing in the world, but knowing you, you could be a bit overzealous with your moans.

the noises his tongue made, sliding his tongue between your folds, sucking and nibbling. he even broke away his lips just to spit a nice wad onto your pussy. you watched the entire time, mesmerized. he was so nasty—nasty and you only wanted more. toji continued to drag a thumb against your slit, lapping up your slick arousal that was already starting to drip down his chin. it ran further down, a bit of his trimmed facial hair now soaked with your sweetness.

“how’s it feel, princess,” he’d mutter out, briefly departing his lips away. as he does—you stare as a pretty cobweb of his own spit tugs against your own entrance. glistening and all, it was so sheeny. he was right between your precious thighs, and you couldn’t help but give his ruffled dark hair a light pull. “tell me how i make you feel. talk to me nice, girl.”

“good,” you whimper, nearly choking on your own saliva. your words were so trembly, you could hardly recognize yourself. it’s been a while since you’ve been eaten out, let alone being intimate. as you continued to let off irregular breathing patterns, you swallow. “f-feels good.”

“just good?” he’d tease, bringing a long suck towards your clit. you let off a whine once he playfully nibbles near that particular spot with his teeth. his tongue scrapes against your folds time and time again. it’s indescribable—toji’s head shook back and forth as he was nose deep into your pussy. for a moment, he sounds offended.

toji gives your cunt a sweet little kiss, and he feels it start to hastily pulse from doing so.

he knew you were getting close, all from a simple cue from his tongue. speaking of toji’s tongue . . it was lengthy.

so long, it reached areas that had your eyes mindlessly rolling back.

cute little cacophonies of, “oh my g-godddd,” repeated ghosts past your lips as you started to practically drag his face against you. the texture of his tongue—so moist and slick, already wet from obvious reasons, but grew even more dampened from your sheer arousal. it was a taste his tastebuds grew to crave more of. “gonna c-cum toji. f-fuckkk.”

“you’re gonna wait for me, little girl,” he grouses, and your irises fleetingly dilate. he gifts the entrance of your cunt with another string of spit, then he rubs a few circles against it. mean vigorous circles that made your legs pathetically twitch. “you make a mess when i tell you too.”

he was so mean.

such sternness in his tone, yet it turned you on. that slight secretive rasp that hid underneath his voice. toji breaks his lips away for a moment, glaring at you before focusing near the crevices of your thighs. he teasingly slides his tongue upward, away from your most sensitive area just to watch you squirm.

“toji,” you’d whimper, feeling his tongue just roam everywhere from below. he was so skilled, you’ve never had a man be so sloppy. at least in a way that toji was. he greedily sucks near your thighs, gently sinking his canines into the plush of your thighs before going back towards your pussy. “i can’t—can’t hold..”

you were barely able to finish your sentence, and that’s when you came — it was so sudden and abrupt. gushing all out of you and your nerves had your mind spiraling. a constant crazed loop.

it felt like a wave, a tsunami crashing down and it felt so good.

your orgasm that shortly followed was so loud, you didn’t even bother trying to cover your mouth. toji chuckles, cupping his mouth around the very top part of your achey slit before lapping his tongue against your hood. your hips temporarily quavered due to his tongue, and you still maintained a rough grip on his head.

“easy on the fuckin’ hair,” he’d grunt after feeling you roughly yank on his strands bringing a kiss towards your slick entrance. you swallowed, your legs feeling practically mush before he brings a terse spank towards your clit. “cute ‘n all, but i didn’t say you could finish yet.”

“s-sorry,” you’d breathe out, still feeling the after effects of your intense high. it was so good, your eyes were all hooded and droopy. toji saw a bit of drool seeping from the corners of your mouth and hums silently.

he sighs, leaning up before getting on top of you. he hovers himself and you stare up at him. he rests both arms over you, groping near the rickety headrest before leaning up close to your face.

“are you sorry, sweetheart?” and he gets up a bit closer, green viridescent eyes glance right into you—you smelled the mint and brief tang of alcohol residing on his tongue. using another hand to grab your chin, he softly pulls your bottom lip down before derisively grinning. “aw. nothing to say? no back talk this time?”

“i… want a kiss,” you pant, feeling his warm body just inches away from colliding against yours. just a single inch and he’d be grinding on you. “kiss me.”

“oh i dunno. sounds like a demand, babygirl,” he’d sneer, and your eyes leer near his scar. it was damp a little from him just being between your thighs a moment ago. perhaps it was a bit filthy, but you wanted to taste it. taste him. “ask me the right way.”

you pout, staring right into his eyes. “i wan— can i get a kiss, pretty please. i just want a kiss.”

“course ya can,” he utters, and that’s right when he squeezes your chin. your lips were plump and glossy. toji stares at you back for a long while, studying your cute expressions before he leans right in. the kiss was passionate, it felt so wrong but felt so right. you moaned the second his lips crashed onto yours. he finds it cute, feeling your arms rub and feel around his slim waist. you were pulling him closer — a sign that you wanted more of him. toji teasingly grinds his hefty body against you, and you whimper in his mouth once you feel his thick bulge prod against your panties that were halfway on you. “mhm.” he’d groan.

while his tongue skims against yours, you part your lips a bit for him and the incoming savory taste you’d get a treat out of.

you made sure to savor it, so sweet with a bit of spice.

running your tongue against his, breaking away to lick near his chin, softly making sure to lick near his stubble—you cleaned your own mess off of him. without him asking you either, toji grunts as he watched you through his peripherals. he’d never expect his best friend to have such a nasty girl for a daughter.

“y’er fuckin’ filthy,” he mumbles, breaking away and watching both strands of spit leave and depart. your lips curv into a cute needy scowl before he heard your father suddenly call out from downstairs.

“honey? i said, was that a scream…? is everything okay?”

your eyes widen, not even knowing your father was speaking—yelling actually. toji snickers, and now he’s the one suddenly quiet. prick.

“o-oh um,” you clear your throat, sitting up and that’s when toji starts to create soft chaste kisses near the inside of your neck. you nearly moaned before turning your head to speak. “i’m—i’m fine. i thought i saw a cockroach.”

“cockroach? do you need me to come up and—”

“no!” you’d quickly reply before clearing your throat once more. you let off a sigh, feeling toji start to suck near your collarbone. “i mean, no dad. i’m okay. thanks anyways.”

“okay honey, if you say so.”

toji chortles. “fuck. you’re bad at lying. just tell y’er old man you were getting eaten out by me.”

you glare at him, immensely bringing your brows into a furrow. “no, i’m not gonna say that. are you crazy?”

“maybe.”

you eye rolled, yet part of you felt like he wasn’t exactly lying. after all, he could probably be insane—perhaps he was.

you didn’t know, and to be frank, you didn’t really care. all you really cared about was getting pleasured—riding out orgasm after orgasm with him, and that’s exactly what you ended up doing for hours on end.

toji would find himself leaned back against your pillow, studying your hips carefully before grinning.

the moment you lightly shove him back, he clicks his tongue. “oh?” he says, and you already sprung his dick out. he was very much hard, presenting you with an upward slight curve. you licked your lips, hovering over him before giving him a few strokes. a groan slips past his lips and your thumb brushes against the various veins that ran just below his foreskin. “y’er gonna ride me? can a sweet girl like you even handle it?”

“shut up,” you’d fuss, and he just smirks at you. you wanted to wipe that smug expression from his face. he knew just how to irritate your nerves. toji watches you throw your leg over him, a simple hook around. you’re straddling him now and he brings two rough hands to attach near your hips. you lean in to kiss him again and he returns it, slowly tilting his head back and your arms wrap around him. he feels you reach down, grabbing ahold of his shaft before softly sliding the head of his dick near your slick entrance. “s-shit. you’re big.”

“i try not to disappoint,” he slyly says, sliding a thumb near your hips. his voice was so low, so pompous and arrogant. you give him a glare but he only hums out of pure amusement. “barely the tip in ‘n y’er struggling. need my help, sweetheart?”

you ignored him and he smirks, allowing you to do your thing—you bring one hand towards his chest, gently feeling near his perfectly chiseled abs. he was so toned, tracing against his tense muscles and he watches your every move. it was as if time was stood still, he chuckles at how eager you were. you weren’t like him, you weren’t patient and thorough. you were a bit more rushed and sloppy—cute, it was very much cute to him though.

a moan goes past your lips once the wet tip of his slowly starts to sink inside. it had a few droplets of pre-cum leaking down, and you slowly rocked your hips in place to get comfortable. his eyes go lower to focus more on your body, the grip he had on your waist was so rough and sensual. because toji was so thick — it took you a good six minutes, six precise minutes to reach all the way down to the base. your lips opened a bit, and you let off a soft shrilling whimper once you did a cute attempt at jerking forward.

“take it slow,” he purrs in such a rasp, you leisurely started to lurch back and forth once he was buried all the way down to the hilt. you inhale deeply and he was so hefty. balls deep, swollen balls that was hidden and engulfed beneath your inner walls. “atta girl.” he praises, watching you try to maintain a decent rhythm.

ringing went throughout your ears, you felt all hot.

toji playfully brings a hand to feel near your tummy. you were wearing some old university hoodie. it was comfortable, but much to his surprise, you didn’t have a bra underneath. he hums to himself, and you let off a moan once his hand trails ever further. further and further until his thumb brushes against your perky nipples.

“t— toji,” you’d moan, and another hand of his was tightly clinging onto the left part of your waist. you were riding him smoothly. yet since he was so big, you started to feel your thighs building up with drowsiness. your efforts were cute to him, so desperately eager to get off.

his black lashes flicker, and the way he’s all leaned back and manspread was so attractive—you felt your back start to naturally arch and it didn’t take long for toji to reach that particular spot. once you felt his tip prod against there—way past inside the orifices of your cunt, you let off a sweetened whimper. “found it,” he whispers, bringing you close towards his chest. you lean into his touch, intaking his cologne into your nose before your hand starts to wander all over his body. he liked how handsy you were, slipping a hand right underneath his shirt to feel a part of his abs. you made sure to trace directly on each line, each tender flexing muscle. all the way down onto his sharp v-line. further down, you started to feel his happy trail. your favorite.

he grunts, feeling the softness of your hands meander freely. “that’s it, sweetheart,” he gruffs in a sharp breath. an imaginary lump getting caught in his throat — he was holding both of your hips upright and by this point you were slamming right onto his thick cock. “touch me more. feel all over me baby.”

“can i—” you started, leaning in to kiss near the crook of his neck. your voice was soft, a bit trembly before your hands went up this time. feeling near his pecs before a breath gets caught in his throat. “can i feel here, toji?”

“f-fuckin’ girl,” he groans, a chill running down his spine the second he feels you gently rubbing a thumb against his nipples this time. toji was surprisingly far more sensitive despite his rough front he was putting up, it was a bit cute. after all, he did say feel all over you. toji was panting now, while you rode him continuously, he swiped a few beads of sweat from his forehead. “whatever.”

you giggle, watching him now be the one with a pouty expression this time. you plant a kiss near where his slanted scar went down his lip before he spanks your ass. “just ‘cause ‘m sensitive there doesn’t mean ‘m gonna get all whiney for you, girl,” he utters in a raspy tone. the sharp sting from the spank felt good.

you felt yourself twitch between your thighs whilst your hips moved in harmony. you do a little back bend with your hips, constantly jerking against him and he grunts with how slow yet sloppy your movements were. “keep goin’ slow like that. ‘m gonna—cum.”

his voice consistently got deeper, and the tips of his fingers gently pierced into your skin—you were vocal yourself though. moan after moan, a constant repeat. you found yourself whining out his name as if it was a lewd mantra. over and over again, to toji though, it was purely music to his ears.

he feels you start to slow down a bit though, exactly at the minute he tells you he was approaching his incoming release. toji clenched his jaw, gifting the fat of your ass with another mean spank. “f-fuck. keep fuckin’ me. make me fuckin’ cum.”

you plant kisses near his neck this time, near the very inside and you swiftly quicken your pace a little. he was stuffing you full of thick inches, full of such girth that had your tongue salivating right in your mouth. you could only imagine what it’d feel like to have his seed pouring into you. you couldn’t lie to yourself, ever since you saw toji shirtless. his bulge sticking out through his towel, you only imagined he’d be so full of cum to give. you tilt your hips backwards, and he lets off a husky groan.

that particular spot reached so deep, you felt it too. his cockhead pokes and taps repeatedly against your sweet spot and you sob out a needy, “f-fuck, ‘s right there,” you tilt forward and he’s just about reaching his peak. the longer you took, the more spanks you received.

toji was a patient man, but only for so long.

the bed frame creaked constantly, it was the only tune that played in the background. he slithers a hand down between your thighs and spanks your cunt a few times. you whimpered, already a bit sensitive but felt something else approaching. “toji— toji.”

toji groans, the build up nearly taking his breath away. with your rhythmic thrusts against him, his eyes merely roll and he has to take a minute to catch his breath. you wrap a hand around his throat—tenderly of course—then place your lips onto his once he finally finishes inside of you.

he didn’t expect for you to choke him, but he liked it.

he liked how forward you were, your thumb lightly grazed against his adam’s apple, and a deep grunt gets trapped in his throat. your cunt was practically overflowed with such dumps of his cum—you’ve never felt more filled. toji shook a little, a hand gripping your ass as you kissed him.

slowly, he started to feel himself get addicted.

he already was addicted from having a simple taste of you earlier, but he was getting infatuated. you had him whipped, and he knew this probably wouldn’t be a one time thing.

albeit, the last thing you expect is to pull away from the kiss once you feel a sudden pressure brewing up within you.

momentarily, you whine—feeling a sudden familiar wetness coat his base. nerves all throughout your body had you locked in a trance, and you pause your hips before toji tsks.

“little girl,” he mumbles with a sly smile. “did you just squirt on me?”

it was so unexpected, you pant heavily—heave after heave leaving your lips before you moan out a sweet, “y-yes.”

“don’t be shy about it. i like when it’s messy,” he sneers, his eyes tantalizingly trailing down your body once more before he lifts you up just a bit from his shaft. he observes the lewd mess, how much cum trickled past your thighs and he hums. “wanna do that again? i bet i can do it in five minutes, baby.”

to say you were being treated like a rag doll was an understatement.

toji was ruthless with you, ruthless with you in your own house. well, ex-house. you didn’t live here anymore but you used to.

he coaxed orgasm after orgasm out of you like it was nothing. making you imitate and try positions you’ve never even heard of—you were getting stretched, easily said. it’s been hours by this point, you weren’t even in your room anymore. you were in the bathroom with him.

toji had you propped up against the door, you’re taking him from behind and you’re roughly biting down on your lip.

entirely so, it was still risky.

your father was right outside near the living room doing who knows what. probably watching some sports program—yet of course, he started to grow curious of where his best pal went. initially, toji said he had to use the restroom.

like four hours ago . .

he was so mean too, spanking your ass numerous times. your ass was perked upright for him, and you’re leaning against the door. you whimpered, feeling him grip on your panties that he refused to pull off of you.

oh, he likes seeing it dangle and thwack against your skin. the pretty fabric just cutely rubbing against your thighs. his weight just barely hovers against you and he’s smacking right into you.

your cunt swallowed his hefty inches each and every time—by this point, you weren’t sure if you could even give him one more.

you lost count of how many mind blowing orgasms that you were just completely intoxicated from his dick and his dick alone.

toji’s rough bare hands grab onto both parts of your ass, spreading it before deepening his strokes just a bit. you moaned, feeling every inch store inside of your sweet cunt. he knew just where to hit you. you breathe through your mouth and your nose at the same time, heavy cute pants that started to fog up the door’s material.

“fuck, fuck me f-fuckkk,” you’d drag out, and your back naturally arches just from a teasing touch of his finger racing down your back.

your ass was held up high and your cheek was softly nudging against the cold door. another build up was approaching and you were just so in awe—you were literally thinking, where has he been all your life? “close, ‘m getting closer.”

“bet you are. drippin’ all on me ‘n it’s fuckin’ nasty,” he replies—yet you freeze once you hear footsteps approach the door. it was your father, right when you were about to cum—you feel toji’s hand wrap around your mouth. your eyes roll backwards, and then he speaks through the other end of the door.

“toji? hehe, did ya fall in there man? you’re missing the game. we’re down by four points.”

toji chuckles, hearing a tiny muffled squeak go past your lips. he was balls deep, giving you such thick vigorous inches. that’s when he leans right up close to you—a hand still propped to have your mouth shut before whispering in a raspy tone. “you gotta be quiet, sweetheart. you want y’er old man to hear you make a sloppy mess on me?”

you shake your head, making an attempt to try and suck on his fingers and be smiles. “messy baby.”

your mouth was now stuffed with nothing but his thick fingers. you moaned, coating each digit with your glistening saliva as he pounded right into you. the grip your cunt had on him made him groan. eyes roll into the depths of your cranium so far back that your vision was pure black. squelch after squelch, it was so erotic. the build up of your incoming release yet again.

it was so slow and tense, you felt your thighs ache and tremble the more you were arched all over for him. the most sluttiest arch he’s seen in a while.

“huh—oh, nah man i’m good,” toji replies with a simper. you were trying so hard to be quiet, if your father heard anything, that’d be a wrap for you.

dying out of pure embarrassment certainly wasn’t on your bucket list for sure. the way toji responded was so casual, almost as if he wasn’t just happily drilling into his best friend’s cunt in his own home. “four points? shit. defense can’t do anything right.”

“telllll me about it! i could play better with my eyes closed, damn.”

you found it so irksome how they were casually having a dumb conversation whilst you were just about to gush right onto toji’s shaft—you felt him dip his hips into you deeper though, and you let off a sweet whine.

toji leans into your ear and whispers. “you’re doing a good job, sweetheart,” and then he chuckles. removing his hand, you nearly let off the most loudest orgasm imaginable but you kept it together by biting your tongue. it was a cute squeal, and as your legs part you made such a mess.

again…

it was probably the umpteenth time.

while you ride out your release, he’s slowing down his strokes and stares at the excess cum filling up your entrance. toji licks his lips, dragging a thumb to plug it all back in once he pulls out. he didn’t like putting things to waste. you whimper, feeling so taken aback from how stuffed full you were.

it was an awkward silence, you felt a sharp scare in your stomach once you thought your father heard everything — but thankfully so, he plopped right back down on the couch. toji lets you take a moment to calm down, and then he brings a wet kiss towards your lips. you were so sensitive, trembling within his hold—you didn’t want him to leave just now.

“atta girl,” he purrs, that same sly smile pressing against his lips as he brings a thumb towards your lip. his gaze was so hypnotizing. such pools of green eyes looked like it had a story to tell, and perhaps you wanted to know just who toji fushiguro really was.

maybe that story is ready for another day though.

thankfully you didn’t get caught.

or did you—you had to leave out the bathroom first, then toji after about a lengthy minute time difference so it wouldn’t be remotely suspicious. once the both of you were out, after about an hour of you all crammed up and watching the boring never ending basketball game, your dad ends up going to the bathroom.

while he was occupied, you leaned against toji and he wraps an arm around you. he could tell you wanted more—but his gaze was stern, telling you with his eyes to basically be a good girl and be patient.

a few seconds pass before you father bellows out a pitched, “erm. toji? is this shampoo—? what’s this white stuff over the sink? doesn’t look like shampoo.”

the both of you share the same frozen expression, impish smiles fading before you nudge toji to speak after long seconds passes.

“huh? oh, that’s uh mayonnaise. i forgot to clean up after myself.”

“aren’t you allergic to mayonnaise?”

you mentally facepalm, watching toji break into a sheepish sweat before he gruffs out a low, “i guess not that brand of mayonnaise.”

“right. riiiight,” your father mutters, and you heard sudden shifting. it was abrupt, and you felt something fall — probably a brush from the familiar after sound, you then hear your dad add a follow up question. “wait a minute,” and he glances down near the floor. “are these panties?”

#★vegasbaby.#toji x reader #toji smut #toji fushiguro smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #anime smut #female reader #cw sex mention #jjk x reader smut

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kentopedia · 5 months

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nanami kento, who hates dating, and didn’t do much of it in his early twenties. but now, he’s almost thirty, watching all the people he works with settle down, have kids, and he thinks he wants that. so he might as well try.

so satoru sets him up on a few dates — friends of friends, he calls them. and at the end of every one of the dinners, kento goes home empty, exhausted, because he knows what they want is not the same.

still; he thinks maybe he’s being a little self-destructive, maybe too picky, maybe he just got so used to being alone. with satoru’s insistence, he gives all the women another call, invites them over to his apartment.

the first time was a disaster… kento had barely set the dinner on the table before his cat had hissed at her, scratched her down the arm in a thin gash. and though it did draw blood, it was hardly enough to warrant that reaction.

he didn’t even try to stop her as she picked up her bag and left, huffing like she’d been morally offend. kento, though, could only smile to himself in amusement.

because maybe kento was a poor judge of character, a man who was secretly hoping nothing would pan out — but his cat could certainly tell the good from the bad.

it became a little game to him, after that. seeing if anyone could win his pet over, and if they could, perhaps they were the one. his darling animal was a fickle thing anyway. a bit too defensive, quick to bite anything threatening after years on the streets.

naturally, no one came back twice.

he was close to giving up, accepting his solitude because he was tired of empty conversations over dinner. but then, he ventured out over the weekend to a new coffee shop, during hours he normally didn’t spend out of his home, and met you.

though you only talked for a moment, kento felt like maybe he’d known you in a past life. a part of him thought maybe it was strange, the way he kept coming back to talk to you, catching you at the end of your shift to see if you wanted to grab a coffee sometime.

by the second date, kento started to think you could turn out to be his best friend.

by the third date, kento wondered if soulmates were real.

on the fourth date, almost two months later, an appropriate time to get to know someone when you were as reserved as kento, he invited you over for dinner. it was, perhaps, the final confirmation he needed to let himself be with you.

he let you through the door, smiling softly as you told him about the book you were reading, and hung his coat on the rack. a moment later, you stopped, distracted, hands covering your mouth in a gasp.

“kento! she’s the cutest cat i’ve ever seen, you didn’t even show me pictures!” you exclaim, and, a few feet away, crouched down. “look at her pretty eyes…”

“careful,” kento said, “she’s not very—“

but the cat approached your outstretched hand, sniffed once, before letting you scratch her under her chin, purring loud enough for kento to hear across the room.

“shes such a sweetheart, you told me she was mean!” you smiled, making a cooing noise as you threaded your fingers through her fur. “kento’s a liar, isn’t he… you’re so precious.”

a few moments later, she snapped her jaw at you in a biting motion, and you only laughed, withdrawing your hand. “alright, i get it, i won’t bother you anymore.”

though she still brushed against your legs, just as she did kento’s, and seemed to communicate some sort of message to him.

“do you want any help cooking?” you ask, tucking your hair behind your ears. “i’m a disaster in the kitchen, but—“

“sure,” kento said, his chest tightening as he blinked back at you, only in his apartment for minutes and already looking as at home there. he wondered if it was possible to fall in love so quickly. “but only if you want to.”

#this is very silly #i just wanted to get it out of my drafts #i’ve had this thought for a while but #i decided i didn’t want to write a whole drabble so now you get this #kento being inexperienced at dating & not enjoying it is very special to me #and so is him having a cat tehe #selfship coded i suppose bc reader is me but it’s not that obvious i hope #beloved kento 💋 ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆#nanami x reader #xoxo rylie 💌 ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆#jjk x reader #nanami x you #nanami fluff #nanami x gender neutral reader

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chuluoyi · 7 months

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✎ forever

- gojo satoru x reader

the three times he asked you to marry him

genre: slightly suggestive, fluff/comfort, silly and lovesick gojo, wedding proposals, mild angst, mentions of injury and protective gojo

note: i was inspired by some fics with this kind of trope and i can totally see gojo asking you to marry him while he's dead drunk—

a part of gojo's love entries

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

"Why don't we get married?"

The first time Satoru brought this up was right after you both had exhausted yourselves in an intense, passionate lovemaking session.

His bare skin was against yours, and the intimacy of it almost made you want to go along with his suggestion, until you grasped the profound meaning behind his words.

"Satoru," you breathed out, still breathless as you came down from your high. "Are you seriously asking me that now?"

A dopey smile was on his face. "Yeah, is there a problem with it?"

You blinked. The nerve of this clown-head—

"Not even a proper proposal? Or a ring?" you scowled. "Considering your usual flair, this is a rather lackluster attempt at a proposal."

Of course, you weren't a material girl, but considering his big ego and tendency to go overboard, you just had to call him out.

"Hmm? So if there's a grand proposal and I bought you a ring, then you'll say yes?"

There was practically a twinkle in those bright eyes of his now, and you were a bit caught off guard because well, so he is for real?

You’d be lying if you said that the thought of marrying him hadn’t crossed your mind. But to be frank, Gojo Satoru didn't strike you as someone who was interested in anything as cliché as marriage and everything that comes with it.

Which brought you back to this point—you had absolutely no idea what possessed him to bring up this question.

"Hah," you let out a sardonic laugh. "Not that easy. I'll think about it."

When he let out a “Ehhh?”, and started sulking, you were quite sure, and dismissed the question as one of his passing whims.

The second time he posed the question, he was a babbling, slurring mess of alcohol and hiccups.

"Can't we—hic!—" His face was flushed, and he was pitifully wobbling on his feet. "—just get married—hic!—already?"

This time you scoffed, partly out of disdain, crossing your arms in front of you. Satoru seemed to pick up on your unfavorable reaction and attempted to convince you. "I'm being—"

"No," you sternly interrupted, supporting him as he struggled to stay on his feet. You shot an unapologetic look at the other patrons in the bar who were watching you both with disapproving frowns. "Satoru, we're going home."

"I'm—hic!—asking you to marry me!"

"I said no."

"Why?!"

You sighed. "You're dead drunk."

"What will—hic—make you say yes?"

You let out another sigh. It already took a great deal of patience to deal with his immaturity as his girlfriend, and you could only imagine how much more challenging it would be as his wife.

"I'm so heartbroken," he whined, crocodile tears pooling in his eyes as he peered at you like a kicked puppy. "I got rejected twice already... How could you reject me twice?"

You rolled your eyes at his theatrics.

"Marry me."

The third time around, he was neither bringing it up on a whim or drunk, also he wasn't quite asking—his tone was almost pleading.

And you just woke up from your comatose state after a mission gone wrong, still in your bloodied uniform, eyes barely adjusting to the bright room.

Satoru let out a grunt, clasping your fingers in his warm, reassuring grip. It was evident how deeply distressed he was from the furrowed brow and the quiver in his lips as he looked down at you, as well as the gentle way he was stroking your hair.

At this moment, you wanted to cry. The fact that he was so genuinely concerned for you filled you with warmth and emotion.

. . .

He saw it happen right before him—the crimson blood flowing out of your wound like waterfall. He had screamed at you to breathe and not let go of his hand. The moment he felt your head loll back in his arms and you lost your grip on him, he could swear his own heart had stopped too.

He had never been more grateful that you—his best friend, love of his life, the only one he had left—awoke from that horrifying ordeal. Seeing you stained red by your own blood had undoubtedly distorted his point of view, but his desire to marry you, as what he had been suggesting as of late, clearly was not just a mere passing thought.

Because he is acutely aware of how cruel this world is. This damned world has always taken everything that's important to him, and before they can snatch you away too, he will claim you as his first.

"Marry me," he repeated, his voice now sounding more hoarse, not as confident as it had been the first time.

As you gazed into his beautiful eyes, it occurred to your hazy mind that you very nearly died. That you were that close to not seeing him ever again. You had been apprehensive with how he had phrased his proposals so far, and you didn't want your marriage to be a split-second decision forced by some sort of looming omen.

And yet, falling in love with Gojo Satoru had never been the easiest, but you did anyway. He still held onto your hand, patiently awaiting your response—

—but suddenly, like a sharp whiplash effect, what shocked you was that who you saw then wasn't your boyfriend.

But rather, the man with the mantle of the strongest sorcerer alive.

You could lose him just as much as he could lose you. Sooner or later, who knows? His title is both a blessing and a curse. Up until now, it has been a blessing, but who can say when it might suddenly turn into a curse that tears him away from you?

. . .

This time, you didn't snort or doubt his intention. Instead, you smiled, embracing the profound flutter in your chest as you were being proposed.

"Okay," you whispered, voice dry. "Yes… I'll marry you, Satoru."

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alastorss · 4 months

Note

I really enjoyed the "touching Alastor's antlers" fic! Good stuff! I was wondering if I could request reader playing with his hair and braiding it maybe? Thanks for being great! Drink water and eat a snack :p

a/n: hello!! thank you for your kind words ^ ^ i hope you enjoy this fluff!

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Alastor can't pinpoint when exactly you developed such a strange habit of playing with his hair.

He first noticed it when Angel started giving him funny looks, pointing out the braids in his hair and that they were rather charming. Of course, the Radio Demon was quick to dismiss the star's claims that they suited him.

After that, he began finding little braids in his hair with or without others seeing them first. Like, for example, he would see them when he was dressing in the morning and peering into a mirror. Or other times he would see his reflection in his deep mug of coffee. They were less of a nuisance and more of a mystery than anything.

It had to be your work, surely. No one else would ever think to do something so pointless to him. And if this were some weak attempt to humiliate him in front of his peers, anyone else wouldn't have dared.

However, he never had any real evidence that it was you messing with him.

He should probably do something about it. It would be bad for his reputation if word got out that he kind of liked the delicate work of your fingers.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Once he's had enough of the mystery, Alastor decides to catch you in the act.

He turns his back to you on purpose, hogging the blankets as he always does, and pretends to be asleep. And just as he expected, your hands are in his hair less than ten minutes later.

Glaring at the wall, he lets you finish whatever it is you've done to his locks before he suddenly spins around in the bed to face you.

Satisfaction fills him as you yelp, scooting back in the sheets and sitting upright fast as lightning.

"You were awake?!"

Alastor just stares at you with narrow, unamused eyes.

"So it is you!"

You swallow loudly, nervously fidgeting with the blanket as the demon sits up in bed beside you. He scrutinizes your reaction, how shy you look, and his smile softens.

"It helps me sleep," you admit awkwardly. He watches as you fiddle with your fingers, unable to meet his eyes.

Alastor sighs with an exasperated shake of the head. "You simply could have told me, darling. No need to keep such a silly little thing a secret."

You perk up at his words. "You don't mind?"

He minds less than he'd like to admit, really. It also explains why he's been the little spoon so often lately.

"Not at all."

You breathe a slow sigh of relief before you're dragged into his arms. He lets you mess around with his hair that night, too. And he stays up a bit longer until your hands fall limp against the pillow beside his head.

The next day, Angel is surprised to see that the oh-so-feared Overlord has quite a few braids left in his hair.

He decides they suit him after all.

taglist: @the-lake-is-calling (send an ask to be added!)

#🍓 faye's thoughts <3 #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #alastor fanfic #alastor fluff #alastor headcanons #alastor x you #alastor fanfiction #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel fanfic #hazbin hotel fanfiction

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spacelazarwolf · 5 months

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apparently a bunch of ppl on social media are trying to call for a boycott of rick riordan because of this statement in a blog post:

Becky and I are just back from a busy weekend with events at the Boston Book Festival and New York Comic-Con.

Before I get into that, however, some words to acknowledge the ongoing horrors in Israel and Gaza. As many of you may know, I am no longer on social media. My accounts post only updates on my books and related projects. I do not read posts, reply to posts, or share my thoughts about world events on those forums. That doesn’t mean I don’t have strong feelings and reactions. It means I am offline as completely as possible, except for the occasional blog post like this one.

I will say this: Over the last eighteen years, I have received many fan letters from young readers, both Israeli and Palestinian, who often told me that my books helped them escape the fear, grief and anxiety they were dealing with at the time. Some had lost family members to violence. Some were writing while in the distance they could hear explosions, gunfire, and the launching of rockets. They used my books as a way to escape into another world, where the monsters were fictional, and where demigods usually saved the day. While I am always glad that my books can help young readers find joy during difficult times, my heart breaks every time I hear about the things they have to deal with. I am grief-stricken by the horrific events now unfolding, especially because I know that they are part of a long historic pattern that has been robbing too many children of their childhood and perpetuating hatred for far too long.

I am also quite aware that when anyone, myself included, tries to speak about this issue, the reader is waiting to pounce, thinking, “Yes, but whose side are you on?” That is exactly the wrong question. If there are two sides to this issue, those sides are not Palestinian/Israeli or Muslim/Jewish. The two sides are humanitarian and dehumanizing. Dehumanizing has a long evil history. It is appealing and easy to buy into, because humans are tribal animals. We are hardwired to think in terms of ‘us’ versus ‘them.’ We are the real humans, the good guys, the ones with God on our side. Those other people are evil monsters who don’t deserve empathy. Hate mongers have thrived on dehumanizing for as long as there have been humans. It provides them with a purpose, a way to rally support, power, and scapegoats. It is easy to point to atrocities committed by our enemies, while justifying or minimizing the atrocities committed by ourselves or our allies.

Humanitarianism is a much harder sell. It requires us to empathize, to see other groups of people as equally deserving of dignity and quality of life. It requires not always putting ourselves and our needs first. But in the long run, humanitarianism is our only hope. If violence could end violence, if we could put an end to “those other people” once and for all, human history would read very differently than it does.

So yes, I am appalled by the Hamas attacks on Israeli civilians. I am appalled by the suffering of Palestinian civilians in Gaza. Both things can be true. Both things must be true. My thoughts are with all the people who have died, who have lost loved ones, who have had their worlds and their lives shattered, especially the children. More death and violence will not break this cycle, which has been going on for generations. There is no military solution. Even since I first wrote the post, only twenty-four hours ago, the Israeli government’s brutal retaliation against the entire population of Gaza has reached genocidal proportions. This is not only an atrocity. It is folly. Answering misery with misery only creates more fertile ground for extremism, dehumanizing the “other side,” letting hate mongers thrive, stay in power, and reduce us all to our most monstrous impulses. The only real solution is treating each other like equally worthy human beings, and negotiating a peace that allows all parties a chance to live in security and dignity, with hopes for a future that does not include bombs and rockets and gunfire. This means security and support for Israel, yes. It also means a secure Palestine which is allowed to get the international aid and recognition it needs to build a viable state.

Do I think that will happen? Unfortunately, no. Humans are simply too selfish, too ready to blame “the other” for all their problems, too ready to dehumanize, though I also believe, perhaps paradoxically, that most people just want to live their lives in peace and have a chance for their children to have a brighter future. The problem is when we don’t allow other people to have those same hopes and dreams — when it becomes a false choice of us versus them.

What can I do? I will continue to write books that I hope will give young readers some joy. I will resist the urge to demonize entire groups of people. I will call for less violence, not more violence. And when asked whose side I am on, I will tell you I am on the side of humanitarianism.

So with that said, I return to the world of books . . .

honestly, if you have a problem with this statement, it’s probably because he’s talking about you. this is exactly what legitimate activists (as in not just random westerners who share social media posts but on-the-ground activists who are doing real work) have been saying for decades. and i think all this really speaks to just how disconnected a lot of westerners who claim to be pro palestinian are from those activists.

if you can’t read a statement that says “i am on the side of humanitarianism and less violence” without immediately jumping to cancel them, you are the problem being discussed in the above statement.

#ip

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