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#too slutty to function
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Geminis are supposed to be very changeable, and I don’t know if that’s true or not, but I’m a Gemini and I know one minute I might be doing ‘Ireland’ and the next ‘Mary Had a Little Lamb
Happy Birthday Paul [June 18, 1942]
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cas---2y5 · 5 months
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Whoever said Dean was the dysfunctional one has never seen you with a sharp object in your hands.
(he was flirting here btw)
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hypnostouched · 6 months
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almost 2000 words into a riko survives fic but i have no idea what i want to do with it
i think maybe deranged polyam i guess
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bmpmp3 · 1 year
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i dont WANT to do my homework i WANT resident evil 4 remake to come out RIGHT NOW so i can WATCH my favourite video game live streamer PLAY IT for hours
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ash-says · 2 months
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Being in touch with your sensuality:
On today's episode of ash-says we are going to talk about how to get in touch with your sensuality. Personally it's something I am very passionate about and kind of indulgent too.
Sensuality helps me in feeling alive and in tune with myself. I can't guarantee it for everyone but for me it works wonders. It's like the "Amrut" or "rejuvenating water" (for a lack of better terms) for me. Along with that it's the most healthy way for expressing my sexuality and keeping it in control to not let it affect my day to day functioning.
Here are some ways I incorporated in the last five years of my life to be in touch with my sensuality:
1) Exercise: No matter what I am going to vouch for this always. The way it helps me in expressing the surplus energy and controlling my desires is a chef's kiss. Plus helps in tackling the sluggish feeling.
2) Dance: Especially the slow sensual seductive dance. Not only it's a good outlet but above all that it validates the emotions and creates a space to delve in it to create a beautiful synchronisation with the body movements.
3) Art: Create! Create! Create! Nothing better than creating beautiful art or writing poems, stories,etc to voice your passion for the world and it's offerings.
4) Music: I have playlists on Spotify that specifically cater to my sensual mood. It has all the songs that can set a tone for the bedroom (iykyk). Singing to it or dancing works wonders. It's a magical experience.
5) Meditation: You can meditate on those feelings to internalize it and put all that energy in proper use for achieving a goal,etc. This is something I very rarely do because I am a very active person but putting it out here cause it works for some people.
6)Play Barbie: This is my personal favourite. After all I am just a girl. I put on some makeup, wear a bold sexy outfit or a cute dress (depending on the mood) then spend my time reading a romance novel and listening to sensual songs. It's my kind of therapy🦋🦋
7) Be a model: Being all dressed up but not clicking any photos you got to be kidding me!!! Come on girl! Pose and click! You are not going to be this young again. The best thing I do is this. It literally helps in skyrocketing my confidence. I don't click pictures daily but boy when I do, God forbid!!
8) Unlearn the shame: The basic one. You need to own your body first and appreciate it. I know saying is easy but hey you won't get there if you never start.
9) Imitate things that you find sexy: I will explain this with an example, so I find laying on the bed on my chest with my legs dangling in the air extremely sexy so when I am alone I will lie on the bed in that way as a way of expressing. Secondly, we all know sipping wine while reading a book is incredibly sexy while being dressed all slutty but I don't consume alcoholic beverages so as an alternative I drink pomegranate juice. Plus I find pomegranate as the sexiest fruit for obvious reasons.
10) Invest in things that make you feel sensual and seductive: It doesn't need to be costly. Find your sexy and invest!! For me it's aroma candles, jewellery, deep neck tops, skirts, ribbons, art honestly I have developed a knack to turn any ordinary thing into something seductive atp I feel. Everything works for me. So exploreeee!! If you are experimental enough and don't have parental risks you can try out sex toys too.
That's all for today's show on ash-says. Stay tuned for more illegal tricks and explosive opinions.
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chrollohearttags · 11 months
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unwrapped • r. braun
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surprising your husband on his birthday turns out to be much more than you’d expect.
content warning and themes: p!rn without plot, hard dom!reiner, (retired football player rei) black!fem reader, (plus size descriptors) extremely rough sex, bondage, reader wearing butt p!ug, anal play, spit kink, throat training, heavy degradation (calls reader bitch, slut, whore), squirting, daddy kink, hair pulling, pet names, (mama, poundcake, pretty girl, papa, sweet girl), gagging, pet play, breeding kink go brr, heavy overstimulation, slapping, y’all might need a sedative after reading this.
📝: I would apologize for how filthy this is going to be but I shall not. I started this last year for Rei’s birthday but I put it off but now I’m doubling back. So happiest of birthdays to my handsome baby father. The only Leo man I’d ever give a chance.
word count: 5.5K
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"So this is all for me, huh? Wow..."
it was the exact reaction that you would expect from your husband of four years..shocked, surprised and completely taken aback by your rather unique gift. For a better lack of terms. You knew him better than anyone and although he appeared intimated or not too intrigued by the sight before him, you knew his mind was churning; ablaze with extremely salacious thoughts and desires at the moment. August first..a day that he’d normally let pass without so much as a single bit of acknowledgement but tonight, you had plans to make your man’s day extra special.
Reiner Braun, although wealthy and having amassed millions as a football star during his days as a quarterback, as well as with his many business ventures nowadays, was a man of simplicity. He preferred things to be quiet, peaceful..without too much flare. Rather than lavish parties and big events, he was out working hard, assuring that his business was functioning well, even on his special day so you decided to stay at home, 'tending to other affairs'. Used to your antics, he didn’t question it too much but while he was away, you were putting together one hell of a present..one he'd soon never forget. Standing in the doorway of the foyer, a few inches taller from the Giuseppe heels on your feet and the coat that had been covering the grandiose bombshell had fallen to the floor..allowing that khaki trench coat to pool at your ankles, you’d be revealed to be sporting sexy red lingerie, akin to that of a glazed candy apple on your smooth, brown complexion. Thick thighs and ass stretching against the thin lace fabric and mere seconds from bursting out. All the more reason to rip it off! However, that wasn’t all in store..tiny nipple clamps latched on to your perky breasts, a collar laced around your throat and decorated with a heart charm. Along with a paddle sitting on the mantle.
Little did he know, more awaited him in the bedroom..that was if he exercised the restraint to not ravage you right here!
His face was flush but burning beet red and his chest was heaving pretty fast but he had to maintain his composure. “I—uh..I don’t know what to say..”
although the two of you made love many times a week, and it was a far cry from vanilla..this by far took the cake! All of this was a sudden change. You just looked so..submissive and innocent. As if you were begging to be wrecked! "Well don't just stand there and look at me, come get your present.." the words garnering a big smile from his handsome face..mumbling something underneath his breath as he stepped forward and extended his arms out to grab ahold of you. Towering above your shorter yet thicker frame, examining you..big strong hands groping your body as he sucked his teeth profusely.
"Happy birthday, papa. What do you think?"
honestly, it was hard for him to think at all right now! Seeing you so dressed up in such slutty and salacious attire, all for him. "..I think..I’m the luckiest man alive.” Garnering a slight chuckle from you both. Cupping your face between his hands, Reiner leaned down to give you a deep, searing kiss. One indicative of how hot his desire and lust for you were burning right now. But alas, there was one more stipulation to his gift..you had but only one request for your husband: "You know how you've been saying you wanted to try all of those things you saw in those videos?..well, here's your chance. I want you to treat me like your little whore tonight..do whatever you want to me."
reaching behind your back, you’d hand him the final piece of this rather interesting ensemble and that was a leash! Red, covered in latex and what he’d be using to maneuver you around at his leisure. Something he’d probably never have suggested on his lonesome. You see, Reiner was an incredibly bashful man..despite his outwardly appearance and intimidating presence, he became flustered quite quickly. You honestly thought it was the most adorable thing you had ever seen. As you had done several times prior in the past, one night, the two of you were lying in bed, looking at some rather explicit videos..hoping to spice things up in the bedroom. As you’d come to discover, masturbating together became one of your favorite activities as of late. There was something about holding hands with your man as he guided you through your orgasm that made it ten times better.
However, there was one scene in particular that not only resonated with your beloved Reiner but stuck with him. As if the scene were permanently implanted in his memory. The woman, resembling your exact body type and look; a cute little lady..brown skin, thick with a little pudgy tummy, thighs that rubbed together and an ass that clapped with each movement, sporting an apron with nothing underneath as she ‘cleaned’ the house, waiting for the arrival of her doting husband. She had baked him a cake, which she’d then go on to allow him to lick off of her backside. You could visibly see his cock twitching at the sight of her. Not because he was more attracted but because she resembled you. It was only when the man arrived home, resembling Rei’s build and stature, along with his hair color did things get even more interesting. He’d then proceed to strip down, place the tie around her neck before ushering her to her knees and fucking her face. They’d wind up going rounds in that house..from the kitchen to the tall staircase to her riding him on the floor with her heels on. It was so filthy and disgusting and he couldn't stop thinking about it! Witnessing her be pounded, seeing her cry from the pleasure and get overstimulated until she couldn't spill another drop.
That night, he came so hard; twice in fact from that video alone, spilling warm, seeping nut all over his fingers..loud, lewd groans filling the room and it was then that your wheels began to churn. Reiner would never admit it, out of fear of rejection or even scaring or hurting you but he was into hardcore sex..dominating, controlling and even breaking his precious (y/n) had come across his mind constantly. Pumping you full of dick while you all but tried to push him back, pulling on your hair and neck as you begged for more, and especially being called daddy and sir..he had craved it. Practically salivating at the thought!
But now, there was no need to be afraid because you were all but throwing out the proposition. It was up to him to take it. Bringing his fingertips to your chained nipples, he'd rub them gently, garnering an adorable smile and lip biting from you.
"..whatever I want, right? Huh.."
"That's right…treat me however you want. Don’t hold back.” With that confirmation, he didn't want to waste another second unwrapping his present. Fixated on your supple breasts, Reiner groped them in his palms before shoving that tongue between your plump, red painted lips. He was completely enamored with your body and it was certain now that you wouldn't have any issue getting him to loosen up. Eventually, he'd end up shuffling you over to a nearby wall where he caressed and squeezed every inch of that perfect frame… faint moans escaping his throat whilst he continued feeding you those soft kisses. In a split second, you’d brought your hands up to undo his shirt and pants but he was quick to push them away, giving you strict instructions to place them by your side. "Don't fucking move...just let me handle it." You had never heard him speak with such a sharp, commanding tone. All but hissing the orders at you. It was so fucking sexy! So you’d do exactly that, and stood still as he moved those lips down to your neck, collarbone and eventually those perky nipples that had become his point of hyperfixation at the moment.
"Mmm...how cute.."
Intermittently flicking those clamps and chains to watch you tense up. Squeezing your thighs together, (y/n) released a very audible moan in response. Even shutting your eyes in hopes to feign off the sensation but it was of no use. It felt too good! But alas, he was merely getting started and soon, you’d come to find out just what this man was capable of when given free reign. Taking those callus fingertips, Reiner traced them even further south..finally leaving your tits, he’d make a trail down the center of your tummy; just lightly grazing the skin until he reached the elastic waistline of your panties. To which he’d make haste in shoving those digits in. Outlining the thin, lace material before sinking them inside of your warm heat. Eliciting a cry from you that in turn, made his cock thump behind the confines of those designer slacks. You’d even absentmindedly begin to rut yourself on those fingerpads.."Tell me, angel..is this really what you want? Because I don't plan on taking it easy..just so you know." You were full and well aware of that fact. Even so, you wanted him to use you to his full desire. Release every single debaucherous thought that plagued his mind onto you and let it out. Once he finished, you wanted to be broken..mind, body and spirit.
“I told you, baby..I'm your slut, do whatever you want to me. I can take it..promise.”
Hell, if anything, you just wanted him to stop all of this teasing and fuck you senseless already! Without another moment of hesitation, Reiner smirked and shoved two digits deep within that tight, quivering entrance and made certain you impaled yourself on them. Granted, this was nothing more than a mere warm up for the pounding that little pussy was about to take after all! Working them in and out, he'd make certain your head remained positioned straight forward, as he didn’t want those beautiful, brown eyes shifting anywhere except on him. Only seconds in, you had soaked his hand down to the wrist..letting those juices leak down to the Tom Ford button up and matching cuff links. You were already coming undone so he could only imagine what the remainder of the night would entail.
"Well, poundcake. Don't say I didn't give you fair warning..” mumbling into a low growl that seeped to your ears. “Because I plan on going all night..breaking this slutty little body for everything it has. That sweet cum, those pretty little moans and everything else I fucking want. My little whore, you said? From now on..you don't move, speak or breathe without my permission, understood?" This new side of him had you going crazy! Frothing all over the seat of those panties and whimpering for him like a helpless puppy. Finally, his fingering would come to an abrupt halt which left your needy cunt spasming on thin air. Once he removed them, he'd bring them up, only to shove them into your mouth roughly. “Lick them clean. Taste yourself and don’t leave a single drop.” The force of his thrashing around between your jaws causes you to emit a slight gag when he takes them to the back of your throat.
"And you answer me with only daddy or sir, got it?"
you weren’t exactly sure what was coming but all you could know for certain was that you had seemingly awoken one hell of a monster! Had you truly bitten off more than you could chew?
"Yes, daddy..."
those round doe eyes fixated on him with such an innocent glare. It was then that you’d find yourself gasping sharply as he clenched your jaw. A faint smile cracking through his lips..almost devious in a way. But just as quickly, he’d place a couple kisses atop your forehead and a few pats to your chubby cheek. "Good girl..now let's get these off." In a sudden swift movement, he'd rip that latex lingerie from your body as if it were constructed of nothing more than sheets of paper. Each article and layer falling to the flooring and pooling around you guys’ feet. Leaving you only with the corset piece, fishnets and leash around your neck. And of course those tall, clear heels. Next were his own and without so much as single care for the cost, Reiner tore the button down from his skin. Revealing those chiseled abs, all while unbuckling his pants in the process. That bulge in them had grown excessively large and honestly, he had no more restraint to tease you. He wanted some action himself! So once he freed that hard dick from its confines and bridged the gap between your bodies, he’d hoist your legs within his grasp and place your back against the wall for quick leverage, as to execute his next move. “This is gonna be fun..”
Seconds later, he was instructing you to wrap your arms around his neck for support and them around his waist. Even though he was more than culpable of supporting you with his own strength. Parting those legs, he’d expose your dripping slit and freshly waxed, fat pussy to the cool air; aligning himself with your soaking slit.
"Ooh..baby, what am I going to do with you?..."
That voice dropped to a low growl as he teased that sensitive tip against your folds. Drumming up more of that silky slick that was drooling out of that cunt. Slowly but surely, he'd ease it inside and stuff you full of that dick. The initial sensation makes you both writhe in pleasure. Before your moans could even fully escape your mouth, he'd meet them with his own and resume those deep kisses. Swarming the inside of your jaws with sloppy pecks and an exchange of saliva..even spitting into it to further lubricate. Whereas he'd be whimpering into the crook of your neck, moaning your name as a sign of pure submission, this was a whole other side to Reiner. One you had never seen but wish had awoken sooner.
"Fuck!..so good."
there was a certain intensity in his eyes, one that scared and aroused you simultaneously..fucking you into a state of trembling with only a few strokes in as you dripped down his shaft. But this angle and the way he so precisely penetrated your g-spot, you’d find yourself clawing your nails into his back whilst he impaled you on his dick. All eight and a half inches of thick girth stretching you open..akin to a piece of elastic. "That's right, you don't need to do anything else..just hold onto me and let me pound that little pussy." Your body gliding up and down the wall; jolted with every thrust and meeting his every movement. It was almost as if you were weightless within his arms. “Shit! Right there…” Your nails ripping into his shoulder blades, holding on with all the strength you had but it was of no use. He had rendered you practically useless and dumb. Nothing more than a mere flashlight for his pleasure.
"Look at you..taking this fucking dick like a good whore. You liked being fucked all rough, don't you? Answer me.”
"Yes, daddy! Give me more, please. Fuck my pussy!” Meanwhile, your little cunny could barely contain him, no matter how far he delved and how deep he pressed, it kept slipping out of that wetness. Just from those few minutes alone, those walls had been beaten sore and throbbed profusely. However, that wasn't going to stop him from fucking you senseless or making you clamp down on his shaft. Those balls rested idly against your bubbly asscheeks after slapping against them..plus,hearing you beg only further fueled his desire.
sounds of smacking skin and loud cries erupted throughout the foyer. Although he loved the noises that pretty little pussy made each time he slammed inside of it, he came to an abrupt halt. "Get on the floor, right now." Whether it was his own lack of restraint or the fact that he truly did want to take you beyond your limits today, Reiner stopped abruptly before placing you to your feet.
that long cock still erect and dripping with your juices; the tip glowing red from how sensitive it was. One hard brush and he would probably begin spurting cum. He’d stroke the shaft whilst reaching for the leash and eventually the top of your head. With an extended palm, Reiner reached over and laid a few smacks to your cheek. Instructing you to stick your tongue out and glance up at him. “Good girl..sit there on your knees until I tell you otherwise.” He needed a few seconds to decide his next move. Seeing you in such a state had his mental all fucked up. Having this much power to use you at his disposal and seeing you lose every bit of your morals just to please him made this man absolutely feral.
panting heavily, Reiner ripped the shirt off entirely. He’d then proceed to undo and coil the red necktie around his knuckles. It seemed as if his lightbulb was flashing and he had constructed a rather interesting idea. "..hands up over your head, sweetheart. Don't make me fucking wait."
Without fuss or haste, you’d raise your arms up to the wall and await his instructions. You were positioned on your knees with them spread apart to where he could visibly see that little slit drooling with slickness. That clit protruding out and waiting to be rubbed. You’d give anything to have it touched at the moment but you’d have to wait. Emitting a loud gulp, you’d hope that your lovely husband would feel compelled to somewhat tone it down and have mercy but it would seem that you had ignited quite a dormant spark inside of him. The gentle, attentive man that had always handled you with care was no more, at least for the time being. Finally, he’d retrieve that leash placed on the mantle and once he clipped it on, he’d clutch it with a vice grip. "I'm going to enjoy fucking that cute little face of yours..those lips always look so pretty wrapped around my dick. Open wide.” Tilting your head back on his command. Just seconds later, he'd lean down and spit into your quivering mouth; the sensation making you throb and melt within his grasp. That saliva trailed between your lips, down to your tongue and in turn, earned him the cutest expression with a bright smile. "Thank you, daddy."
the name causes a direct reaction from your shaft; throbbing upon hearing your voice. He couldn’t help it when you were being so gracious and eager to serve him. This was already the best birthday ever and it had only begun! Stretching those jaws, Reiner would depress your tongue with a couple fingers; as would a doctor to a patient and watch that uvula jump and the back of your mouth gape and flex as it awaited the chance to be filled. That was more than enough room and he’d waste no time in filling that empty oral cavity. “Perfect, don’t move.” With that, you’d find your empty mouth stuffed full of that swollen member. Pumped and fucked without any regard to your esophagus or breathing. Reiner would just ever so carelessly buck his hips forward as if you were nothing more than a mere sex doll. That was until you started seeping strings of clear fluid all over his shaft and tip, bringing out vibrations with your gagging and moaning. Keeping one hand on your bound wrists to keep them in place and the other on his leash, Reiner maneuvered you like a well oiled machine. Letting every liquid you emitted drip onto those marble floors. Thrusting with full force as he rutted those hips..so desperately trying to maintain his pace because you felt that damn good. Because you were not at liberty to do so, he’d alternate between his dick and those full, swollen balls; stuffing your mouth with them in exchange for jerking himself.
“That’s right. Clean me up, bitch…taste that pretty pussy and keep those eyes on me when you do it.”
he’d feed your heavy slaps to the face as his tip rested in the side of your jaw..pressing into your skin. He had zero remorse at the moment and if being used in this manner is what you wanted, he was more than happy to oblige! When his hand no longer sufficed, he’d pop that cock back into your mouth and continue relentlessly fucking your skull until that forehead pressed to his abs and you were rendered breathless. Perhaps what was most impressive to him was how you took it without so much as gagging or showing resistance. Not to mention that you battled those lashes at him while you did so. If he wasn’t careful, you’d have him spurting cum all down your throat. But he had plans to fill you up so he’d refrain. Where you were rendered unable to be vocal, Reiner certainly filled that void and let out the loudest, grovely grunts. Meanwhile, strings of saliva were pooling from the corners of your mouth and your face had a dumbed out expression..exactly as he wanted it. “It’s like you don’t even need to breathe, baby. I love you..I love how nasty you get for me..” that deep voice resonating throughout your body. But for how warm and inviting those silk like jaws felt, he was becoming rather greedy. He needed to explore more of that perfect figure…from this pretty mouth, to that dripping core and especially, that big round ass. Which had quite the surprise waiting for him. “C’mere, mama. I’m not done with you..not yet.”
reluctantly pulling out, Reiner suddenly tugged your head around with a firm grasp, returning the favor of that sloppy head with an equally messy makeout session. It was apparent by the smile on your face that you were enjoying this just as much! That’s when he’d lower your hands, untying them and command you to plant those palms to the floor, where you were made to crawl towards him. Resembling that of a cute little pup or a sexy lynx, your husband began stepping backwards before waving a finger towards you. He was leading you to the staircase, hoping to reenact that infamous scene that inspired this entire ordeal. Even then, on your hands and knees, you were enticing him. Finally, you’d find yourself stationed against those stairs, where Reiner would fling you up to the railing and raise your leg so that he could finally get inside of you. That’s when he’d find a hidden gem…literally and figuratively. A heart shaped, jeweled anal plug stuffed between those thick cheeks that were glistening with baby oil you had previously doused yourself in. Making it look even better..lighting up with excitement, Reiner would start to smirk and chuckle, spreading them apart as he watched that tight bundle of nerves flex around that metal. “Oh my gosh..” mumbling in a low growl, admiring the beautiful view. For now though, he needed some of that soaking core.
“…pretty pussy’s so fat..I know she’s wet f’r me, baby. Go ahead, bend over…” biting and licking his lips with a faint smirk. He couldn’t believe how blessed he was to have the finest woman on the planet! Balancing on those heels, (y/n) looked back whilst arching that back..bouncing in the process so that he could get a clear view of those plump lips. “Yes, just like that, baby..it looks so good.” “Thank you, daddy.” Getting more and more aroused each time you uttered that name. Placing his thumb atop that plug, he’d push it in a little further as his index teased that protruding clit, that caused you to whimper in response. “That feel good, poundcake? Ya’ like when I touch on that clit? You can answer..”
and of course, it was a given how you felt.
“Yes sir, so fucking good…please fuck me—“ but just like that, he’d halt you in your tracks by tugging on your leash and spanking your ass to silence you. “Hey, I didn't give you permission to start begging, not yet at least..” Just then, he’d place a hand in the center of your back before grabbing himself at the base and slapping that cock up against those clammy folds. He wanted to keep you waiting..punish you for your unauthorized outburst the fact was, he lacked resolve himself so seconds later..
“No…I need you to take this dick. All of it..and maybe..just maybe if you ask nicely..” you’d find yourself impaled on him and stuffed full, causing your face to go wide with shock. “I’ll let you come.” A result of both holes being filled to the brim. He didn’t even give you a chance to recuperate or adjust..he’d go full throttle. Thrusting into you once more after already abusing that little cunt once before. Needless to say, you probably wouldn’t be moving for a day or so after this but it’d be well worth it! You loved the sensation..the thrill and rush that came with being used like this. Every day could be his birthday if he treated you like this! Deep strokes made home inside of your core as his pace increased. That leg draped over the sides began to shake uncontrollably but as a way to quell you, he’d gently rub it. He was trying to have a bit of balance amid the chaos; a touch of subtlety with his rough treatment. Your body was already sore with pain and pleasure. Marked up by both his lips and hands..all signs of how obsessed he was with you. Going deeper and deeper, reaching that fated g-spot, Reiner tugged your head back and yet again spat into your mouth, trying to maintain some semblance of control. Because truthfully, he was reaching his peak. He knew the second he resumed fucking you, he’d lose his mind and rhythm. Suddenly, his thrusts would become sporadic and he’d start hammering into your spot; clapping that flesh against his pelvis and filling that million dollar mansion with raunchy noises. Getting as raw and unhinged as you two pleased. It was a private party and he’d enjoy every single second of it.
“Harder! Please..I’m so—“ although you were breaking the rules, you couldn’t help yourself as that climax grew near. You had been holding back..restraining yourself from releasing all over him but right now, you couldn’t be vexed!
“Can I come, daddy? Please, can I come for you?!”
Crying with your eyes squeezed shut and tears streaming down your face. Your body was set ablaze…burning with desire and right now, he wanted to add the fuel! Spreading that ass apart, your husband kept thrusting, grinding those hips to the hilt as he buried every inch until that tip began to kiss your cervix. That aching warmth was all but stretched. However, it wouldn’t be the only orifice to be pounded into oblivion. “Since you've been so good..let it go. Right now. Come on this fucking dick..you little slut.” And the second he gave you the green light, it were as if the floodgates opened and a shower of your sweet squirt littered the porcelain steps. He had never seen a thing like it! At that moment, you couldn’t stop. Just an absolute wreck of orgasmic bliss. “F-fuck! Oh fuck, oh fuck—“ banging your previously bound hands against the stairwell. There was no time to recuperate or for either of you to gather your bearings because Reiner was pulsating something fierce and there was nowhere he’d allow that seed to end up other than your womb. Only seconds later, you’d find yourself impaled again and his hard erection thrashing around inside of you.
“What? You thought we were finished? What did I say, pound cake? Not yet..” unable to even compute a reaction, you’d end frozen for a full minute..stuck from that post climatic high. He didn’t have time to wait for your recovery. Not even a full minute later, you felt the grasp on your hips tighten; nails clawing into that soft flesh as Reiner’s breath caught in the back of his throat. “Shit!—coming..FUCK!” Shouting out with all his might. It was then that hot strings of creamy semen began to pour into that needy womb. And not in the form of a few droplets..no, you were being knotted with thick ropes. Ensuring that not one drop would seep out. However, if you thought that would be enough to soothe his salacious appetite and stop him, you’d be wrong. Because he had one more opening to explore before calling it quits. Even though you looked terribly spent and hell, he was getting a little lightheaded himself, he couldn’t stop until you both collapsed. Keeping that back bent to an angle and that leg outstretched, (y/n) felt that plug be removed from your second entrance and hear the metal plop to the floor…only to find that he had..replaced it with something else. But that much was obvious when you all but collapsed from that cock stretching you open. With his face flushed red, Reiner would let out a somewhat maniacal laugh. It was apparent that he was running off of pure adrenaline and addiction. Unable to cease until he claimed every inch of it and unraveled you.
“Take it…don’t tell me that little plug was just for show now. You were getting it ready f’r me. So I could fuck every part of this little body.” Practically hissing at you whilst tugging you back into hard, sporadic strokes. He still had a bit left in the chamber, surprisingly but he wasn’t going to maintain that pace for long because you were way too tight; clutching him at every movement. Even with the help of that toy, you weren’t quite conformed to his shape. Even so, he made it his mission to conquer it and break you as he had promised. He was well on his way because now, you were full blown fucked to tears…crying and pleading for him to come in you once more. He had gotten his point across and you loved the pain far too much to want him to stop. But you knew your body couldn’t withstand this brutal fucking. “P—please..come—ahh..” letting out a shrill whimper and pathetic cries. Your nails barely even graze the wood that you had a vice grip on earlier. Despite the fact that you had initiated this, he knew you’d never know when to quit and seeing as how that spasming bundle of nerves was determined to drain him dry, he’d grant you permission one last time to let go..
“On three..together. You know what to do..”
and like that, the two of you ascended to the highest peak together. Howling to the ceiling and shrieking each other's names as you spilled another puddle and poured the remainder of that nut into you..
“F-fuck..you’re so full..so goddamn full of my nut.”
“Yes, come in this ass, daddy..thank you so much.”
reaching back to stroke the side of his face before collapsing to your knees, where you trembled violently. All a result of the insane lovemaking that had just transpired. As one final act of submission, you’d run your tongue along his thigh, swiping up any remnant of those juices you let out all over him, before sticking your tongue out like an obedient dog. How could he possibly ask for a better gift than this?! Grasping your chin, Reiner leaned down with tears of his own plaguing his hazel eyes and shoved his tongue in your mouth. As if he didn’t want to let go. “Thank you, baby..thank you for the best fucking gift ever..”
and there was no way this day could ever be outclassed for as long as he lived!
.・*:。.・*:。.・*:。.・*:。.・*:。.・*:。.・*:。.・*:。.・*:。.・*:。.・*: .・*:。.・*:。.・
@angelktski @crazychaoticizzy @daisynik7 @spaceforher
2K notes · View notes
munivrse · 9 months
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gf! bada lee got a corruption kink fr and let me let yall ponder on this with me
loves that she was your first
had to teach you how to eat someone out 😭
but she was so affirming
"mhm- just like that baby."
"keep your eyes on me sweetheart."
"you look so pretty on your knees."
oh my god 🧎‍♀️
she just loves to make you blush so shes always saying out of pocket shit IN PUBLIC
she'll call you over excitedly and innocently but when you reach her, she bends down to reach your ear and just
"who let you out of the house wearing such a slutty outfit huh?"
and when she pulls away she tucks your hair behind your ear and smiles like she didnt just call you a slut 😭
when she hugs you, her hands immediately go to the curve of your ass and squeezes which makes you yelp- she thinks its so cute
like i said previously - if you're wearing a skirt you are not safe!!!!
you're at dinner with her team?
she slips her hand under your skirt, hand gripping your thigh, curling around it and pulling your leg towards her body to open your legs herself.
you try to close your legs again but she pulls them open once more and leans down to you,
"don't run from it, pretty. let me get a taste."
and when theres nobody looking she slips her hand into your underwear, runs two fingers up your slit, and then brings her fingers to her MOUTH
shes so
she'll sit you in front of a mirror and toy with your cunt until you're grasping her hands and pulling her away
meanwhile she's just giggling at how cute you are
not to be that girl
but i think bada is in to spit plAY HEAR ME OUT
i dont think she'd outright spit in your mouth
but i think she'd like when your make out sessions get a little too messy and theres a little too much tongue and so you guys are just swapping spit OKAY
BUT SHE'D BE KINDA SHY AFTERWARD
i think bada would be shy after any sexual interaction even though she likes the idea of corrupting you
she's just fucked you within an inch of your life but when you two finish she throws both of her hands over her face and turns away from you
and ur like "girl... get tf up and clean me UP"
"y/n i cant even LOOK at you rn how do you expect me to function after THAT"
"YOU STARTED AND FINISHED IT HOW ARE YOU SHY RIGHT NOW???"
"YOU STARTED IT BY COMING HOME IN THAT OUTFIT"
"I STG BADA IF YOU DONT GET YOUR FINE ASS BACK OVER HERE AND TAKE CARE OF ME I CANT EVEN MOVE MY LEGS RN"
"YOU CANT EVEN MOVE YOUR LEGS BABY WHAT'D I DO TO YOU-"
and its just back and forth with you two.
a/n: i know i've put so much bada content out in such a short amount of time but when i tell yall im down bad... IM IN HELL!!!
668 notes · View notes
ctrlsatoru · 27 days
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DIABLO CH2 - TOJI FUSHIGURO
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content: techbro billionare!toji, reader is gojo's little sister, age gap (toji's in his mid 30s, reader in mid 20s) kind of ooc toji, suggestive themes, no smut yet. protective!toji and also asshole!toji. warnings: 18+ only. suggestive themes. explicit language, references to being roofied. toji being toji. minors do not interact. pairing: toji fushiguro x afab gojo!reader word count: 8k tags: @liitlesushi a/n: ok so this might be longer than I anticipated and also semi slow burn. it'll be worth it, trust. summary: It's Gojo's anniversary party, you're doomed by your Satoru's whims, haunted by your father's scheming, and now a devilish third player appears: Toji Fushiguro. And he's here to collect.
Toji opens his eyes, manually focusing on the ceiling above him. The strange pattern spun in slow circles, and then it settled.
This bed is not his own. The pillow feels too flat under his head, which is throbbing painfully. He feels like a dozen horses ran over him. A voice, distinctly female, unnecessarily loud, makes him wince and curse under his breath.
“... If I agree, and I haven’t, you’re not picking my outfit. Know that .”
This is unlike him. He can’t remember a thing. The one good thing about not recognizing the bed is that he’s not gonna have to deal with a strange woman in his place–
“Because your conception of what’s socially acceptable to wear to a formal function is not tethered to earthly reality, Satoru.”
Oh.
It’s you .
You’re on the phone, standing by floor-to-ceiling windows. The sunlight casts off your ring like white laser when you turn, blinding him.
“Mornin’” he croaks, pushing himself to sit against rough the rattan bed frame. The room moves from side to side, like you’re both stuck in a boat, and not in one of Haibara's many guest rooms. It’s all coming back to him, the party, watching you and your boyfriend’s fight, the deck–
“Oh. Hey, buddy.” you say idly, looking over your shoulder as you sit on the other side of the bed, your ring-covered finger tying some slutty sandals around your ankles like some kind of shibari countess. The strap of your top falls as you lean over. Toji’s buffering.
His ears must be fucking deceiving him. 
Buddy?
The fuck?
He can’t for the life of him remember anything after the deck. You’re zooming through the room, texting furiously. On top of that, you look fresh and plump like lettuce out of the fridge, don’t you? But he had to blink several times to break through the layer of crust around his eyelashes, and his body is telling him you two fucked like animals for the past 12 hours.
Or he spent the weekend in the trenches. 
He feels wildly unprepared for this morning after, and it’s a just fucking relief that you’re keeping your distance until you start tap tap taping your little heels to the door.
“The hell do you think you’re goin’?”
You stop, surveying him over your shoulder like he’s coming close to being some sort of inconvenience. 
And then the corner of your lips lifts, the mole on your cheek jumping with the motion.
“It was fun.” Your phone starts ringing again. The sound drills a hole into Toji’s temples. “Too bad that it never happened.”
With that, you’re gone. 
You abandon Toji with a bunch of unconscious people scattered around the house and Haibara, who’s still young enough to not know what a real hangover is. The kid will just not shut up about some hardcore surveillance system he had installed around the house recently after he noticed someone was stealing from his Kaws collection.
Toji listens to the whole story, sipping on the cold pressed green juice Haibara made himself, simply refusing to use the crystal straw, and makes a promise to himself. You’ll pay for whatever it is you did to him.
Even if he doesn’t remember what that was. Yet. It doesn’t matter. You’ll pay anyway. Nicely. 
“Say, kid.” he asks Haibara, licking the green foam off his lips and putting down the empty glass on the counter. The juice tasted just like it looks, which is cow puke, but his mind is somewhere else. Machinating. Scheming. 
“This system of yours, does it cover the whole house?”
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Here’s the thing.
There are many things Toji isn’t. 
For starters, he’s not easily bothered by most things, a trait that people usually mistake for a personal attack, like it has anything to do with them and isn’t just the hand that he was dealt. People assume others, in this case him, think about them more than he can be bothered to. 
He’s not a control junkie either, not anymore. He left those days behind.
Control isn’t something he needs to worry about anymore. He has plenty of it. If something gets out of line, it gets back on it automatically. That’s just the way life is. Sure, he had his vices back then; lactose, gambling, adrenaline, women. 
But the thing is, you learn a few things with age, right? Shiny things lose their sparkle. The excitement wears off. Nothing is safe from becoming predictable, not even the rush of hearing bone crack under his fists or the juiciest, tightest pussy presented to him on a tray.
And this sheds a light on the fact that he’s way past the age of being pussy whipped.
“You cannot be serious.”
So why the fuck is Shiu Kong looking at him like that? 
And who does he think he is standing next to him, all up on his screen, and mind you, only alive thanks to the fact that Toji has lost some edge from his gory days?
He shuts down the tab like a kid who got caught watching porn on the family PC.
“You listen to me. Don’t you ever fucking do that–”
“The Gojo kid?” 
Toji’s eyebrows dig into his face because you’re certainly not a kid. No. Kids don’t look like that. Kids most certainly don't go around passing people horse tranquilizer or whatever the fuck it is you fed him with that glossy mouth of yours.
And that’s what you did. That’s as far as he can remember. 
“Is that what’s been–”
“I’m gonna stop you before you say some dumb shit and piss me off any further.”
Shiu’s been pestering him for days now about the upcoming iteration and the threat of several deadlines. Toji has been brushing it off. No nagging back or shutting down his complaints. 
Somehow, his silence only pushes the stick further up Shiu’s ass. Like he’s his sexually neglected wife of 40 years.
Truth is, he hasn’t given the dynamic with his CFO/best friend much thought lately. Why would he when there’s an infuriating, mouthy woman with siren eyes that somehow look down at him even when he’s about two heads taller than– 
You.
“–stalking the poor girl on the desktop version of Instagram.”
Toji returns to the conversation. “I don’t stalk people. I’m a grown-ass man.”
And you’re not a girl either. You’re something else. He hasn’t figured what yet.
“Mm. So am I.” Shiu says, still standing there with his hands in his pockets, head tilting down at some forgotten paperwork on his desk. “And even I know looking at someone’s profile on a desktop computer is a concerning level of unemployment, which you’re not at. Yet.” 
Toji’s not that thick-headed. He knows he’s been distracted, but he can’t just brush that night at Haibara's away.
You pop up in his head unannounced and make yourself comfortable, rent fucking free. Like a little squatter. In the middle of meetings, when he's driving back home, at the gym, when he’s at the club with a gorgeous woman on his lap. 
It’s becoming so frustrating that he’s started to despise you for real, and not just the made-up version of yourself he created when he met you and decided you were an ill-mannered bunny that he wanted to toy with for a bit.
In this scenario, of course, he was a wolf.
No one ever talks about how sometimes the bunny knocks the wolf out and bolts the morning after.
Days pass and his mind is blank of memories, no glimpses, no time-stopping sex flashbacks, just a bunch of strange vivid dreams about you that would make any mid-century french cult film director weep and the Soviet Union recoil. They distract him to the point of him nearly knocking the front teeth off his trainer’s face, or spilling orange juice all over his clothes this morning.
Toji’s positive you didn’t fuck. Sure, you had a bit of bed hair, but your face lacked the I-was-fucked-by-the-Toji-Fushiguro glaze he's used to seeing in women and takes pride in. You looked perfectly fine, collected enough to be giving your dimwit brother hell on the phone and fuck with him before disappearing.
It was fun.
He was also wearing underwear, and you walked just fine. No wobbly legs or tilted hips. No bruises on your neck or scratches on his back– 
Too bad that it never happened.
You had shared a bed, that much he knew. He caught a whiff of your perfume after you left. He had cursed you then, feeling like a pathetic fucking dog sniffing up some pillows, but now the confusion and annoyance faded to a curiosity that extends past the time in his head he gives to the best lays he’s had. 
So today he put up an incognito tab and looked you up hoping to find something annoying, corny or pathetic about you to make you unappealing, and somehow he landed on your personal IG profile. 
You posted a set of pictures three days ago of meaningless corners at some random location. The fourth picture is a snap of what looks like your desk. There’s a polaroid of you and your fiancé next to a stack of notebooks.
You’re standing in front of him, leaning your head to the side with his chin resting nice and cozy on your shoulder, his nose pressed against your neck. Toji's lip curled in distaste.
He found your twitter account as well, because why not? And found nothing of particular interest. You stick to promoting your work and that's the end of it. Other people in your circle, on the other hand…
Toji went through a twitter phase not too long ago. He found endless amusement in pissing people off with less than 140 characters and replying to those who enjoyed his work. He uninstalled the app the second he found people selling mugs with screencaps of his tweets. 
Safe to say the decision made Shiu’s and the PR team quite happy. 
He’s out of the loop with the overall discourse, but it’s clear that you have farmed your own dedicated micro following online and your boyfriend is some kind of A24 flowerboy on the rise. 
Toji heard of him before meeting you. His newfound success is the byproduct of his dreamy looks, a melancholic breakout role and the occasional activism, something that's been often questioned due to his relationship with you, and the consequential ties to your family.
Both of you, as a couple, act like viagra for a very specific, insufferable and presumptuous crowd. They’re hyper-focused on the fact that you haven’t posted him on your stories for weeks, that Hiroki allegedly deleted some posts with you on Instagram, and that he's been caught dreamily staring at his female co-star during press conferences.
Why people choose to waste their time with their noses up stranger's ass is something Toji does not understand, life being as short as it is.
“Please tell me that’s not her twitter account,” Shiu says. Toji inhales sharply. “This is more pathetic than I thought. No wonder you haven’t gotten anything done in days.”
He kills the rest of the tabs, spitting over his shoulder “I can’t very well do my fucking job if you’re breathing over my fucking shoulder, can I? You know how I fucking feel about people standing behind me when I’m trying to get shit done.”
“Twitchy .” Shiu notes and takes his sweet time walking around his desk, plopping down on the chair.
“Yep, take a seat, why don’t you.” Toji grumbles.
Shiu drums his fingers against his knee, a sign that he’s craving a cigarette, surveying him.
“So I’m gonna take a leap of faith here and assume this is some kind of executive-level scheming, and you’re just exploiting a vulnerability.”
Toji’s face twists like he sucked on a lemon at the mere thought of it. 
“You know damn well the day I do business with that old cunt will be the day your ex-wife comes clean about what she did at that yoga retreat in Bali and asks for forgiveness.”
“Figures. So?”
“You’d probably take her back. Fucking cuck.”
“She really got under your skin, didn’t she?” Shiu notes, unbothered by the unprovoked attack. 
Toji sniffs, comes down from the spike of anger, and finds a more comfortable position on his chair.
“She owes me.”
Shiu leans his head back, mildly amused. 
“You adding usury to your ledger now?”
“Not money.”
“Alright then, I don’t want to know.”
Lies. But Shiu knows better than to push too much. Toji’s the type to hoard details not because he’s afraid of compromise, just to be an asshole. 
It’s refreshing to see him almost… desperate. If you were anything like your brother, Shiu thought, you might be just the perfect little karma agent for his best friend.
“Fine. You get that business sorted. You’re no use to me if you’re distracted.”
“You worry about sorting your own business and I’ll worry about mine, Kong.”
Shiu stands up, fighting back a smile until he opens the door, stopping at the sight of Toji’s assistant about to knock.
“What is it?” Toji asks, scratching his eyebrow, already exhausted.
Keiko looks down at the tablet in her hands, hesitant.
“The team at Gojo Corp has reached out, sir. It seems Gojo Shinobu would like to invite you to dinner next week.”
The look on Shiu’s face as he slowly turns to face him is priceless. Toji rests his elbows on his desk, a sinister smile pulling at his scar.
“Well, isn’t that interesting?”
“Interesting indeed.” Shiu agrees. Keiko eyes them skeptically, because her boss smiling like that cannot mean anything good for society, or her sleep schedule.
“I better get to work then, eh?”
“Anytime would be nice, yes.” Shiu says, turning to Keiko. “I guess I’ll finally find out about Bali, then.”
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So you might be thinking, look at him backtracking like that. 
Don’t get him wrong, it’s nothing like that.
Toji’s sitting across from Gojo Shinobu, the man, the myth, the bigot himself, with absolutely no intention of making business with him.
He’s just sniffing the territory.
In person and up close, Shinobu's a disturbing aged mix of you and your brother: the hair and the uncanny valley eyes went to him, but the eyebrows, the slope of his nose, it’s you. Even the handshake, firm and tight like a war general, reminds Toji of you.
Gojo Shinobu’s old as the fucking bible. His eyes are graying, eyelids sagging but it's clear that grandpa's still sharp.
For the record, Toji doesn’t like the old fart. He represents many things that he despises about older generations, and his business model is one of the many reasons for the country living in the past, but he’s not about to get political. 
Not liking Gojo Shinobu doesn't mean he has no respect for him, so he’s honest and immediately shuts down the proposal of Gojo Corp. being involved in future Diablo releases.
Dignified, not happy, but never one to accept a no, Shinobu just smiles, brushes his beard like a Ghibli villain, and switches the subject.
Alcohol involved and pretending to put business talk aside, the conversation flows easily. Your father has a surprisingly entertaining dry sense of humor. Toji supposes you stop giving a shit when you have one foot in the grave, he also imagines the borderline cruel wit had something to do with your mother getting knocked up with you at the peak of her career as an actress and sex symbol.
“I hear you have a kid.”
“Two.” Toji corrects, remembering that he’s supposed to pick up Tsumiki in an hour. Ballet class. She’s getting rather serious about it. “A girl and a boy.”
“Ah, good balance.” Shinobu nods with a knowing smile. “They listen to you? How old are they?”
“15 and 16. And they do.”
They don’t, because they’re teenagers, not soldiers. Megumi and Tsumiki are good kids, certainly better than he was at their ages, they don’t need him ordering them around, watching their every step.
“Dangerous, dangerous age.” your father hums. “You make sure they do that, save yourself the bitterness in the future.”
Damn. Alright. Toji lifts his eyebrows and leans back, listening. That’s all it takes.
“You’d be surprised. You get a little too light handed, and a perfect sapling can get ruined just like that.” he snaps his fingers. “It’s harder to straighten them up as they grow up.”
Toji takes a long, good sip, fighting back a chuckle. He has no concerns when it comes to who or how people choose to fuck, but the blatant homophobia is always amusing.
“And then they gang up on you.” Shinobu scoffs. Toji can imagine you and your brother scheduling a year worth of publicly terrorizing Shinobu. “No wife? You raising them on your own?”
“I am.”
“Good man. It’s hard, honest work. Make sure you look for a good one to settle with, not all of them are in touch with their motherly instinct.”
His assistant comes in, tells him someone has arrived, and Shinobu makes a noise with his nose or mouth that reminds Toji of an exasperated horse.
“Take the advice from me. You see–”
He leans over the table, brushes his beard. 
“If, and I am not wishing this upon you, your daughter comes of age and– after years of picking up and dropping all sorts of interests with no interest in commitment,"
He pauses, chuckling humorlessly.
"–comes to the conclusion that she wants to waste her life playing with cameras and hanging out with gender-bending creatives,”
The word is said with so much despise Toji feels like there should be a new phobia for it.
“You have to sit down and choose what’s more important; letting her waste her potential away, or being in her good graces. More often than not it can’t be both, that’s just how it is.”
Perhaps Toji hasn’t given you enough credit. You could’ve ended up a lot worse than you are. Knocking him out was nothing. You could’ve chopped him up, kept his dismembered body in your fridge, and he’d see where you're coming from.
“But when she tells you she wants to let some vulture into your family and make him blood, you take matters into your own hands.” he nods firmly, like it’s Toji he’s mad at, and finally looks over his shoulder, nostrils flared.
Asaya Hiroki approaches the table. Jetlagged eyes, tail between his legs.
“Fushiguro, this is Asaya Hiroji, my daughter’s boyfriend.”
Hiroki looks like he has half a mind to correct him on either the name or relationship status but he’s too fond of keeping his head attached to his body.
Hiroki’s pretty. Toji can’t compete in that department. He looks like he puts sugar and milk on his tea and smashes the china on the floor when he’s told he can’t have more, like a psychotic puppy. 
In other words, you make sense together. 
You like to look at pretty things so your boyfriend’s cute. No harm in acknowledging that, though he remembers Tsumiki mentioning that when noses dip down like that it means there’s some kind of prosthetic. 
And if you pay attention, really read between the lines of his 90’s film heartthrob face, something’s off with him, isn’t it?
But what does he care? A nose job is no crime. Hiroki has other flaws to offer. For example, he has a rather shitty way of hiding the fact that he’s doing something he’s not supposed to. 
Perhaps, even, going behind someone’s back.
And the guy calls himself an actor.
Satisfied with the results of what he thought would be a waste of an afternoon, he excuses himself. He’ll be just in time to get to Tsumiki’s class before it’s done and have the other kids’ moms and nannies ogle at him. Tsumiki hates it when he does that.
“Don’t be a stranger, Fushiguro. I’d like to keep this channel between us open. I hope to see you at the anniversary party.”
“Pardon?” Toji stops, surprised.
“The company’s anniversary party this Friday,” Shinobu says, like it’s obvious. “I’d like you to meet my son, and well, you’re already acquainted with my daughter.”
Hiroki’s round bobba eyes follow him all the way to the grand crystal doors. Toji has the distinct feeling that he was just part of Shinobu taking matters into his own hands. 
He’s both disturbed and impressed. He never mentioned meeting you, and he’s pretty damn sure that this detail didn’t slip from your lips either.
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Every year the company throws an anniversary party, and you and your brother and every high-level employee have to attend and listen to your father’s rendition of why diesel was better and how you’re all wimps for being born after the extinction of smallpox. 
The one year that you didn’t attend, because you were stuck in Norway with a canceled flight, your father spent exactly 11 months reminding you of it like you had any say in the weather conditions of the North Sea.
Tonight might be his last speech as chairman, since he’s about to step down from his position after growing health concerns. The company has gone all out; live music, huge venue, ice sculptures, people are dancing. They've put so much effort your father's probably more annoyed than anything.
Suguru approaches you at the empty family table and sits down next to you with a knowing smile, like he's thinking the same thing as you while you're watching people waltz. He’s looking as handsome as ever, you just miss the bangs framing his face.
“So, when do you think he’s going to publicly execute the medical staff that diagnosed him with Alzheimer’s?”
“Probably after he declares war on Gretha Thunberg.”
You’re wary. He might have everyone convinced, but it’s not like him to step down quietly. Your instincts are telling you to expect shenanigans tonight, and they’ve never once failed you.
“Seems too good to be true, don’t you think?” you say, eyeing the crowd. “I don’t know how Satoru’s so cool about it.”
Suguru sighs, craning his neck. “I wouldn’t say he is.”
And that’s when your brother slams his palm on the table, making you jump in your seat. He leans over the two of you, eyeing the room like it’s the school cafeteria and he’s the king of prom.
And he kind of is. Today your father will officially name him his successor, so the sour look in his face makes you and Suguru share a look.
“Do you see Hideo Kojima on steroids hanging out with Nanamin? I guess next year we’ll have the Yakuza on the jazz band.”
You laugh, only half weirded out. Suguru looks up at your brother, confused.
“Who? ”
“Toji Fushiguro. ” Satoru drawls, icily amused, and your neck turns so fast Suguru worries it’ll break. “And his underling.”
Remember your intuition? Red sirens start ringing in your head, and the edges of your vision start staining in with a deep burgundy color.
What on earth is he–
“Dad invited him.” Satoru says, still not sitting down, still scanning the room with deadly eyes. You feel the urge to look around and pinpoint his exact location, but you wait for him to point with his chin. “They’ve been seeing each other. Mimosas and manicures, I heard.”
You find him across the room, several tables between you, just over the elevated candles in the middle of your table, talking with Nanami and some man you don’t recognize. 
You fight the weak but sensible urge to look away when he suddenly turns to your table and lifts his glass in your direction, like he felt the shit talking from a distance.
The room is vast, but you recognize the feeling of his eyes looking straight at you. Your brother is too occupied cursing under his breath while he mockingly lifts his glass to notice you gulping.
“You think dad’s hitting that?”
You try not to gag. “You’re sick.”
“Cause someone will owe me a loooot of money if that’s the case.” he taunts. You both placed a bet on whether your father is bisexual or not years ago. “Look at him, standing there like he’s threatening to swipe all the fertile wives in the room. Freak.”
You snort. A bit of your goes down the wrong pipe, Suguru helpfully pats your back.
“You better hold on to yours then.”
“Nah, he’s locked in. Ain’t cha , babes?”
You roll your eyes, feeling Suguru shake his head with a lovesick smirk. Your brother replies with a wink, lazily dropping his weight on the chair next to you, like you need to be in the middle of all that.
You lean back, stretching your neck and stranding up. “Ok, you can back up a little. It’s embarrassing enough to be matching with you.”
Satoru stretches his arm over your now empty seat. They’ve been purposefully keeping a distance, him and Suguru, people assume it’s for appearances' sake, but you know them better than that. They’re playing some game tonight, and you’d rather pluck out your lashes one by one than learn the details.
“And I distinctly remember asking you to stop feeding into those fucked up theories online about me terrorizing you as a child, but you had to take those creepy family portraits with the heads cut off. We don’t always get what we want, sis.”
And don’t you know that. Tonight was stressing enough without 6’ something with a lip scar, ever so subtly following with his eyes as you make your way around the party. Not too obvious for an outsider to notice, but just enough to make the exposed hairs at the back of your neck stand up.
You’re a little too energized. Like too many shots of espresso and Ritalin after an allnighter.
It makes no sense to start feeling threatened by Toji Fushiguro tonight, when he’s in your territory, but you do. 
But you weren’t raised under the same roof as Gojo Shinobu and Gojo Satoru to be so easily intimidated, so you mingle, let people stop you for quick, boring catch ups and questions about being excited about your brother and what-have-you-been-up -tos, even those whose faces or names you can’t recall.
You smile, entertain and even ask people about their whereabouts, until you’re out of social battery for the rest of the season.
“Took you long enough.” you say, making a point of not looking at him.
His voice comes closer than you expected or feel sane about. Smooth and dark, in through your left ear.
“Patience is a virtue, haven’t you heard?”
His presence is more unnerving than you geared up for, and just like the first time, a shiver cuts through you. Something urges you to move and take a step sideways, out of the magnetic pull around him. 
You finally take him in. Tailored tuxedo, slightly tousled black hair that you know for a fact is unfairly soft, exuding confidence. Never in your life had you encountered someone as infuriating and intoxicating as him.
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“So, are you my new stepdaddy?”
A slap to his face would’ve stunned him less. Hell, he might’ve enjoyed it. You don’t give him a chance. His pants have no business getting tighter from that fucking question. Toji buffers again.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
He hums, hands in his pockets.
“Depends.”
You tilt your head.
“You into that kind of thing?”
You scoff, dismissive as always, but suspiciously purse your lips to one side before taking a sip of your drink. Perhaps gatekeeping a chuckle.
Head held high, nose up in the air. Toji takes your profile in. The light bouncing off the high points of your face, the deliberate, doll-like curl of your lashes, the soft slope of your neck and the dips and curves of your shoulders. Your dress painted a nice image in his head of your body from afar, so he refrains from going past your collarbones like the honorable man that he is.
“What? No backtalk? I’m disappointed.”
“I didn’t expect to see you any time soon.”
“Like I said, patience is a virtue.”
You roll your eyes and laugh dismissively. “You don’t believe that.”
“Bold assumption.” he counters. “I wanted to see how long you’d last entertaining guests, but then your right eye started twitching and I suppose took some pity on you.”
“Aren’t you an empath.”
“Even to those who don’t deserve it.”
Your chin quivers, but you keep the smile to yourself with a quick sigh. Toji could look down at the way your chest rises and drops, but he’s not in a rush here. 
“Why are you here?”
“Is that any way to speak to a guest? I’m sure Shinobu raised you better than that.”
Name dropping your father gets the exact reaction he was hoping for.
“Why are you here?” you repeat, enunciating slowly, but the words you want to say are don't fuck with me right now.
But you’re too precious for him to deny himself the pleasure. Not when your eyebrows tremble like that. 
“Your father was kind enough to invite me. It would’ve been rude to turn him down.”
“You’re not here to entertain him. He’s stepping down soon and you can’t stand him.”
“Doesn’t mean that I don’t respect him. Why else would I waste a perfectly nice friday night surrounded by a bunch of suck ups? Are you suggesting I have some ulterior motive?”
Your squint at him, like you don’t believe he has the guts to say it.
“Did you perhaps assume I’m here for… you?”
Toji wonders if your silence has anything to do with the white haired manchild looking your way for the second time.
“We do have something to settle. You owe me something, if I remember correctly.” 
“I think you’re mistaking me for someone else.”
“Nice try. An explanation, does that ring any bells?” 
Your head snaps up to him, the wisps of hair hanging from the sides of your face flow with the movement. The tip of your nose and your cupid’s bow catch the light, if he couldn’t see your face this close he’d mistake that for sweat. 
He’s reminded of how you looked at the deck in contrast to the sight of you right now. A sheer layer of sweat was covering your skin, your plump thighs spilling on the wood surface, he'd kept his hands in his phone and held on to his own sanity.
“What is there to explain? Nothing happened.”
Toji tilts his head. “Lying is a bad, bad thing,” 
“We didn’t do anything, Fushiguro.” you insist, lowering your voice. Toji looks over your head, bored with your attempts at gaslighting. “If you–”
“You wanna dance?” 
The nonchalant act drops, you unconsciously lean back and open your mouth like there’s not enough air in the room. Toji smiles at your hesitation, cold and challenging.
“It’s in your best interest.”
“How?”
“Because the old cunt that kept kissing your hand earlier is coming our way and I’m about to leave you alone with him” he lies and you don’t dare look over your shoulder to check, not wanting to risk making eye contact with the slimmy fucker.
It’s a bad idea. Being near Toji is a bad idea, dancing with him is the equivalent of putting on a vest bomb. Your father is somewhere in the room and your brother might act aloof but not a single interaction of his interest is going unnoticed. 
Putting your hand in his is a bad, bad idea. The worst. But you suspect figuring out Toji Fushiguro’s intentions will take some compromise on your part, so you don’t hesitate when you grab his hand.
With his arm around you, he's reminded of a particularly striking dream he had about you days ago. The first thing he did when he woke up from it was open his app notes and write two words, perverse angel.
Now he knows it was actually deja vu; you close your eyes for a bit, the breathing image of reminiscing. This isn’t your first time in his arms.
The melody gets rather slow. You hold yourself with all the poise of a reluctant little heiress, defiant but serene as you look at him, arm resting over his.
While he’s growing quite fond of the sight of your neck exposed, he’d rather find the main pin and let your hair down. Let you get comfortable, not taut like you are in his hold.
“You look like a tall pint of guinness.”
Toji could do this all night. Just watch your expression drop, annoyance pinch at your temples.
One ankle betrays you, but he’s not about to let that happen. The arm around your waist keeps you steady, moving along with him. His grip is firm, but not overpowering.
“You’re an asshole.” You say like you just discovered it tonight.
He’s right. You know it and you hate that he described it so right. You’re dressed in a black, sleek and form fitting dress that goes down to your ankles and the top is made of an off-shoulder white band that wraps around your shoulders.
Toji laughs with that shark grin of his, his scar stretching. 
“There’s nothing wrong with it.” He adds helpfully, hand coming up to straighten the white fabric around your left shoulder. The air turns colder with the absence of his arm, but it returns to the spot in no time. “Wouldn’t have been my first choice, granted, but it’s a lovely dress. Perfect for a night at the pub, watching the game with the boys.”
“I think I’ll pass on the unsolicited fashion advice, thanks.”
“Come on. You can never go wrong with a red dress.” he counters, eyes dropping briefly. You wrinkle your nose, he takes offense. “What?”
“Not my style” you shrug.
“Now that’s just tragic.”
“If it makes you feel better, I’ll make sure to wear one to your funeral.”
The couples closest to you turn with different looks of controlled distaste. Toji laughs heartily, head thrown back and everything. 
“I’ll hold you to that. I might just return just to see it with my own eyes.”
“Not sure doors open both ways in hell, but hey, more power to you.” 
“So you wanna hear my theory?”
You sigh. “Nothing happened, Toji. I mean it.”
What a terrible liar you are.
“I think you had a little alcohol in you, were fresh off a fight with your boyfriend, and just couldn’t help yourself because you have a thing for problems.”
You nod sarcastically. “And of course, you’re the problem in question.”
“Well, yes.” he blinks. “And also, you don’t have half the self control you believe you have. So you freaked out and put me to sleep to stop yourself from doing something you thought you might regret.”
This is how it was. You had forgotten the rush, despite replaying time and time again your past conversations. Interacting with Toji Fushiguro is like playing five finger fillet, thrilling and grueling and high risk, but it’s a whole other thing with people around you. You can’t let up, all your senses need to be on guard.
“Aren’t you too old to be throwing a fit because I gave you more than you could handle?”
Toji’s eyes dig into yours, a hint of amusement and something else.
“Here’s a piece of advice: choose your words very, very carefully. They might come back to haunt you. ”
“It never happened. And it won’t.” You repeat with a cool tone. The pulse on your wrist drums against his own. 
“I have to say, you’re a better actress than he is.” he mentions. “But denial does not suit you. We’re gonna have to do something about that or things will get very awkward real soon.”
“Actually I think we should focus on your rejection issues first.”
“I’m not a problem for you to solve, sweetheart.” he chuckles darkly, eyes knowing, never leaving yours.
Years of practicing the art of bullshitting in your household could not help you deny the fact that you're maddeningly, disturbingly attracted to him.
“What you see is what you get. And you could, if you stopped being a little coward.”
He makes you turn effortlessly, that’s when you see him. Hiroki. The words die on your lips, your stomach drops, all resolve wavers. He releases you and your arms hang limp on your sides.
He licks his scar and smirks sideways at you, eyes twinkling. You could push him off the roof of the building.
“You should fix your face, angel, ‘cause I won’t behave if he wants to pick a fight.” 
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You’ve always liked Nanami Kento. He’s one of your father’s closest, youngest and less... spineless advisors, the pathological victim of your brother's pestering, and always impeccably polite to you, sweet even.
But right now, when he’s introducing Toji Fushiguro and his friend whose name you didn't catch to Suguru and Hiroki, you’d love to hit him in the head with a hammer.
At least your brother is nowhere to be seen.
"Pleasure to meet you." Suguru says.
Hiroki has his arm around your waist. He's not looking at you. You know what the dimpling of his cheeks mean. 
“We’ve met before actually, haven’t we?” Toji turns to him, brow burying into his face like he’s not too sure, shaking his finger in the air. “Correct me if I’m wrong. I don’t remember too well.”
Your heart is stuck in your neck, threatening to crawl out of your mouth. Suguru gives you an odd look.
“We have.” You don’t see the look on Hiroki’s face when he replies, but his tone is controlled.
“Yeah, I thought so.” 
Shiu Kong says something, and Suguru responds another thing. It's all noise to you. 
You grab a drink from a passing tray and the corner of Toji’s mouth tilts, his attention on Suguru’s conversation. You feel irrationally mad, like slapping him, but then he’d probably fix his jaw and look at you like you should've gone rougher and–
There’s something seriously wrong with you. Officially.
You grab Hiroki’s hand and pull him with you.
He’s confused, but follows you nonetheless. “Can you just wait for a–”
“We should ditch the party.” You tell him, but he doesn’t agree like he usually would and grabs your arm, stopping you at once, brown eyes searching yours.
“You’re not even gonna ask why I’m here?”
“My dad invited you?” you reply, confused by the offended look on his face.
“No. Why would he? You know how I feel about this kind of thing.”
Now you’re confused. You smell his breath and notice his flushed cheeks. “But you’re here.”
“Wow. Try to contain the excitement, why don’t you.” he scoffs. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to fly across continents and interrupt whatever the hell that wa–”
He’s starting to raise his voice, drawing attention, usually composed demeanor nowhere to be seen. You catch a whiff of alcohol on his breath.
“You’ve been drinking.”
His face drops. The volatile look in his eyes is not something you can deal with tonight.
You’re forever grateful for the woman announcing your father’s speech. Hiroki’s expression clears up, but he gives you a look that says you’ll resume the conversation later, soon, tonight. 
Then he pulls you to his side and leads you closer to the podium.
Your father looks into the crowd with piercing blue eyes. You, like you have for the past few months, have a bad feeling. Like if you were to take a picture right now, it would later be displayed as the moment before hell broke loose.
“... And as many of you know, the time has come for me to step back and allow a new generation to lead us forward."
The crowd hangs on his every word. You scan the room for the 10th time, looking for a head full of white hair.
Hiroki notices your unease and looks down at you, rubbing your arm. “Hey, what is it?”
“I don’t see Satoru.”
Your father continues, voice unwavering. 
"It is with great confidence and optimism that I announce my successor, a person who embodies the values and vision of our company." 
You finally find Satoru at the back, he’s with Suguru and Nanami. Waving his arms around him, hair a mess, pissed.
"Please join me in welcoming our future CEO, Noritoshi Kamo."
The room bursts into applause, but before his words can fully register in your mind, a sudden, sharp crack echoes through. For a split second collective confusion takes over, and then it turns to full blown panic.
You watch your father duck under the podium. Your legs move on their own.
Gunshots.
People are running, crawling and diving for cover all around. Tables are overturned, glass shatters. It's all white noise.
"Get down!" someone shouts. 
Something slams into you.
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Toji picks you up from the ground. Exit located, going for it.
“My dad," you protest with wide eyes, hastily trying to look over your shoulder. Toji has half a mind to throw you over his shoulder.
“He’s fine.” he assures, hand covering your head, pushing it down.
Security sprung into action in no time at the first gunshot, formed a barrier around your father and hurried him down the stage. Toji saw it with his own eyes right before he caught you running like a tweaking baby reindeer, right before some piece of shit shoved you to the ground.
You keep protesting, resisting, trying to go in the opposite direction, so Toji has no choice but to lift you up and thrown you over his shoulder.
A colorful string of panicked and enraged expletives follow. You’re livid, fists slamming into his back without mercy. Toji pays no mind, pushing through the crowd, making his way to the emergency exit.
He doesn't put you down until you're both alone in the emptiness of some sterile corridor. And you're still rambling.
“Shut up for a second, will you?"
That does it. You're flabbergasted, opening your mouth again in full Karen fashion.
Toji doesn’t care for it. “Are you hurt?”
“No.” you reply furiously, fist tight on your sides. You catch your breath, step down from your heels and start to speed walk down the corridor. “I have to find my father– I need to– Satoru–”
“They’re safe.” Toji catches up to you in two or three long steps. “Gojo’s security doesn’t fuck around. I mean– yeah, they did fuck up letting a guy bring a gun inside the premises, but they were quick with it.”
Your nostrils flare. Toji hears voices at the corner and pushes you behind him. He sees a couple of guys in black in the reflection of a fire extinguisher cabinet. Dressed in black, wired ears, walking like they know they might lose their jobs tonight.
“Hey, I got the heiress here. She’s looking for her old man.”
They escort you both, eyes hopeful, looking at you like you're their ticket out of unemployment. Your father and his people are gathered in some conference room one floor above. The altercation can be heard from outside. 
“It’s for the best. You're too out of it to see it now, but you will.”
The room is packed. Your father, his disciples, your brother and his boyfriend, a very uncomfortable looking couple of cops. A woman approaches you, asking you if you're ok, but your eyes and attention at stuck on your father and your brother dueling for the whole room to see.
Your brother stops his pacing and turns to face Shinobu. 
“No, that's not it. I see it, I see you. You’re too prideful to let me clean up after you.”
Getting caught in a family brawl was not in Toji’s plans tonight, but he stays put, watching you approach them with confusion all over your face. They don’t seem to notice you. 
Gojo Shinobu levels his son with warning eyes, finger pointed at him. “Watch your words, Satoru. You don’t know what you’re talking about. My decision is final.”
He turns around, beckons the woman who approached you to him, but your brother is not done.
“You know I can do it." he says, your father stops and turns to him with death in his eyes and his lips pressed into a thin line. "You know I can. You just can’t stand the thought of me succeeding where you fucking failed.” 
The look on your face says it all, you don’t know what your brother is talking about, and that you’re in no headspace to ask either. Satoru's not just pushing the limits, he just sped past them.
The words hit your father square in the chest. 
Things are about to get bloody.
“You’re nothing but a spoiled, entitled brat who thinks he deserves everything handed to him on a silver platter. Look at what you’ve made of your life, acting like everything is a fucking game. You think I’ll let someone like you lead what I spent my life building?”
You turn to him, mouth falling open. “Jesus christ, dad.”
“Over my dead fucking body.”
Your brother’s face contorts in rage. He -predictably and unpredictably at the same time- lunges forward, fist aimed at your father’s face.
The room springs into action. Your father's guard dogs, the cops, Nanami Kento, you beat them all to it, but it’s ultimately Toji who gets to him.
In another situation, Toji would've found a comfortable seat for himself, perhaps a drink, and watch the havoc unfold. Let the son champion the decade long cause of union workers, environmental hippies, human rights, consumer advocacy activists alike, and punch the lights out of his father's smug face.
Then he'd spare no details for Shiu over a nice dinner.
But he grabs Gojo Satoru's arm instead, stopping him mid swing.
Blue, crazy and uncanny eyes land on him.
As a general rule, he avoids getting involved in other people's affairs, especially when it comes to love spats or family drama. However, when he says, 
“Trust me, you’ll thank me later.” 
He means it.
Your father chuckles dismissively.
Your brother watches as he walks away, chest heaving up and down. 
“Toru?”
Surely those two syllables did not come from you. If denial did not suit you, this uncertainty is just disturbing. It’s not right.
“What was that?” The question comes from the depths of your throat, voice nothing like Toji has heard before. 
“Not now.” your brother snaps, turning around and walking out. Geto Suguru on his side.
Toji’s phone starts ringing, he tries to shake off the unsettling image of you before walking out of the room to answer.
It's Shiu. He's waiting outside, watching the police drag the gunman into a car, and wondering where he is. Toji sighs, comes to terms with the fact that he's on a streak of sorts tonight, because once again, against his own code, he tells him Shiu to leave without him, not answering any questions about his whereabouts. 
People have dispersed with your father gone from the scene. Toji walks back inside, pocketing his phone, and finds you by a corner of the room. Your boyfriend has found you again, fuck knows where the came from.
He's pulling his phone out, ready to call Shiu and tell him he's on his way down, but you're shaking your head, running your hand through your hair like you forgot it's pulled back.
Hiroki gets in front of you when you try to walk away. You put your hands between you, like the last thing you need is someone coming close. You must've just said something nasty, hit a tender spot, because he freezes where he stands.
Toji drops his arm.
Once again you try to walk around him, but this time Hiroki gets a hold of your arms.
“Why?” he asks. You’re looking at him like he grew a second head. “We talked about it all the time, we always said–”
Toji's wandered close enough to catch your reply.
“What do you mean why? Have you lost your mind? I can’t leave Satoru alone right now, Hiroki.”
“In case you didn’t notice he just fucking left you here.” he snaps at you. 
You flinch. Recoil. Push against his hold.
“Let go. I’m sorry but I can’t deal with you tonight.”
“You can’t? Right. You can’t. Tell me something, do you have any idea what kind of shit I’ve had to put up with–”
You snarl at him, baring your teeth, bare feet stomping on the carpeted floor. Hiroki doesn’t even sway with your attempts, or flinch at the near animalistic way you look at him. 
“I fucking don’t. And I don’t want to know. I didn’t ask you to be here tonight.”  you reply, tone vicious, jaw locked. “You don’t get to hold it against me.”
The next thing Hiroki says pours out of his mouth like it’s a known fact, or an acceptable thing to say to the woman you’re going to marry. 
“They don’t give a shit about you. You know that.”
By now, you two have caught Kento Nanami's attention. He wraps up whatever he's discussing with a couple of men and approaches the scene.
Hiroki does not let up, it's easy to see that he will not. He fixes his grip like you'll turn to liquid and spill between his fingers if he gets distracted.
You wince.
Toji walks over with four or five committed strides until he's between you two. The abrupt interruption and breach of personal space startles Hiroki, gives you the chance to step back.
“I think that’s enough.”
“Well, this is just great.”
Hiroki chortles, looking away like he’s collecting his thoughts. Biting his lips in contemplation. Nodding to himself once or twice. Toji regards him coldly, lets him gather his thoughts, or the guts to attempt something idiotic like, who knows, get himself pummeled to the ground.
“You know, I keep seeing you everywhere lately, why is that?”
Toji shrugs, uninterested and unintimidated. Hiroki won't get his face cut even if he deserves it, and it's not that Toji's against the idea of being a vessel for some sort of long time coming retribution. In fact, he'd be doing it just for his own satisfaction.
But the night should end now. He’s gonna have a hard time forgetting how you looked earlier when your moron of a brother stormed past you and left you standing there, in the middle of a room full of people that did not care about you, heels hanging from your hand, shoulders sagging.
Doesn’t mean he’s not gonna give the boy something to pop a vein about.
“Why don’t you take a guess, hm?”
Something snaps behind Hiroki's eyes. Toji's front row this time, and he confirms everything he suspected about him. 
And he makes his mind up.
Hiroki looks at you, lids heavy, ears red. “Are you fucking him?”
How predictable. Toji looks at you over his shoulder, and somehow, you understand. It's barely noticeable, but you shake your head.
“You have to leave.” you sound a lot more like yourself this time. Only tired. Really exhausted. Like your feet are about to give out under you. Toji's not blind to the way you’ve been putting all your weight on one foot.
Hiroki pauses, realization lands on him that you’re talking to him, and not Toji.
“Get on a plane, fly back to Spain, and stay there for as long as you have to.”
“This is fucking unbelievable.” 
“I disagree. Have a safe flight.”
Hiroki stomps out, shoulders past unfazed Nanami Kento, who looks at him like he’s a speck of dust. He approaches you, asks you if you're ok.
You ask about your dad, he tells you he’s currently talking to the police and insists on getting you a car and someone to accompany you. Says you should rest.
“I can take her home.” Toji says. You peer at him like that's the last thing you were expecting to hear, and then you nod.
Nanami watches Toji carefully, studying him intently. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. Keep me posted?”
His features soften just a bit, he touches your shoulder, promises he will.
He doesn’t keep his eyes off Toji until you two make it to the door. Toji might find the guy agreeable, stick up his ass and all.
118 notes · View notes
tengensbunny · 1 year
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pillars walking in on their s/o masturbating; headcannons
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➩ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠; fem reader x g. tomioka, s. shinazugawa, k. rengoku, i. obanai, k. shinobu
➩ 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬; masturbation, mutual masturbation, sex toys, pillow fucking, water fucking/play (?), dirty talk, degradation, slight voyeurism 
➩𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 || 𝟏𝟖+
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g. tomioka 
Is very shocked when he walks through that door and finds you touching yourself
it’s one of those giyuutomioka.exe has stopped working moments
his mind is completely blank and his body has forgotten how to function
all he can focus on is your pleasure filled expression along with the soft whimpers that leave your lips as you continue to finger yourself
your fingers trying their best to imitate Giyuu’s fingers
trying their best to reach the deepest parts inside you
he can feel the blood rush to his cock as he watches you struggle to reach that pleasurable spot within yourself
thinks it’s super hot when you moan out his name as you try to bring yourself to orgasm
when his erection starts to become unbearable he’ll clear his throat to get your attention
skip the whole embarrassment part of being caught
your knight in shining armor has come to save the day with his dick
“Please Giyuu, please help me.”
t. uzui 
OKAY
hear me out real quick
i feel like Tengen would be the type to give you a dildo the same size and width as his cock as a joke
“For those nights when you’re feeling extra lonely and I’m not there to satisfy your needs.”
doesn’t actually expect to come home and find you using the silicone toy
one of your hands playing with your breast while the other thrusts the piece of silicone out of your wet cunt
your teary eyed pleasure filled expression is definitely a sight for him to see
“You look like you’re enjoying yourself.” he chuckles, pushing himself off the door frame to take a seat in your shared bed. “Don’t mind me, I’m just here to enjoy the show.”
doesn’t bother helping you at all -well not yet at least
“Come on, show me how you pleasure yourself when i’m not here.” he urges on, moving to unbuckle his pants, so that he could rub one out.
His ruby pigmented eyes are solely focused on the sex toy that plunges in and out of your heat, the wanton sounds leaving your cunt and mouth are like music to his ears
Spitting on his cock, he’ll rub his saliva all over his thick member before he starts to give himself long languid strokes, his pacing increasing to match yours once you start to speed up
s.  shinazugawa
damn, this guy is going to have such a cocky smirk present on his face when he walks in and catches you masturbating
he’s a little shocked at first too
doesn’t expect to find you in the bath tub, your legs spread apart so that the water from the faucet was flowing directly into your cunt
the pressure from the water feeling good against your clit
“You having fun there?”
your hips will drop and you’ll be so surprised you probably almost drown yourself in the tub
“What are you doing home so early?”
He doesn’t even answer your question, he just starts stripping and joins you in the tub 
“Why’d you stop, come on, show me how slutty this pussy really is.” 
Will personally spread your legs for you and move you so you were back in your original position
the stream of water spraying directly against your clit
he’s probably going to tease the shit out of you after that (verbally and physically)
100% guarantee he will have you begging for his cock
k. rengoku & i. obanai
is definitely surprised when he walks into the room and finds you rutting your hips against a pillow
not mad about it though
they’re definitely enjoying the view
won’t even let their presence be known because they’re very interested in seeing you touch yourself
they’ll definitely be touching themselves as they watch
each roll of your hips and every moan that leaves your sweet lips goes directly to their cock -sending a painful throb to their semi-erected cock
which doesn’t take too long to be fully erected btw
they’ll actually be so aroused from watching you masturbate that their dick will probably be leaking with precum
instead of spit, they’ll prob use their precum as lube instead and spread the milky like substance all over their cock before they begin to stroke it
k. shinobu
she’s probably really upset to come home and find you touching yourself
I think Shinobu is one to rile her lover up before she leaves and tells them not to touch themselves until they get back
so best believe she’s going to punish you when she comes home and finds you masturbating
she let’s you finish and then makes her presence known
she’s either going to edge the fuck out of you
“Who said you could touch yourself?”
“Bad girls deserved to be punished.”
or she’s going to overstimulate you until you’re begging for her to stop
“But isn’t this what you wanted?”
“Only obedient little sluts get rewarded.”
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dawndelion-winery · 9 months
Text
I Can See You
Warning: suggestive, use of f-word (not the slur)
They get dressed up all nicely for you the spooky season (modern au)
Ft. Alhaitham, Childe, Kaeya, Kaveh, Scaramouche
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Alhaitham:
He didn't really see a point in getting in costume just for candy
But you insisted, and who was he to refuse to accompany you?
He honestly wasn't very pleased
Until he found a few costume ideas people were posting about
If his boyfriend-material turtleneck sweaters weren't form fitting enough, the skintight latex suit he was getting definitely was
He had no business dressing up as batman, flaunting his ass and abs like that
Still, he told you not to worry, as he'd cover up
And by that he meant wearing a full on suit and tie over it
Suddenly you're not so keen on leaving the house and it's Alhaitham complaining about how you're not getting ready to go trick or treating
Not that he actually minds, of course, given how the fit that night was picked out with the sole intention of convincing you to forgo the candy raid
Childe:
He's nothing if not extra
Full on SFX make up and everything
He made the side of his mouth seem torn and basically doused himself in fake blood (he assured you it was fake)
Fake burns to top off his already existing scars?? It's like he was dressing up to be the victim of some monster attack
And of course, he had to rip up his clothes to really sell the look
Ajax tearing shirts wasn't something you knew you needed to see
Seeing the fabric pull apart with a shrrrppp sound and loose seams dangling over toned muscles littered with as many scars as freckles
They're all old wounds, but the fake blood reminds you of when some of them were fresh and you were helping him tend to them
As you subconsciously reach out to caress the side of his stomach where a nasty old gash was, you felt his warm hand over yours
Right, well, Ajax always was a touchy person, so he never had any qualms about you feeling him up now and then if anything he wished you would more often
It was a soft moment until he spoke up
"Want me to rip up your clothes too? Though they might not be able to stay on then."
Kaeya:
You only ever get one of two things with this man
He dresses cute, or he dresses slutty
And you not wearing the matching peacock onesie with him meant he was dressing slutty
Hence the Seele cosplay
But without the wig, so he looks mildly cursed
Boi really out here strutting with everything on display like goddamn all this for free???
It was not, in fact, free
If you're not getting handsy on him along the way, he's keeping his hands on you because frankly, how could you not give him any attention when he's dressed all "fancy" for you?
Hi please appreciate his hips or he's going to dislocate his pelvis trying to flaunt himself in front of you /hj
Kaveh:
He's putting way too much into an outfit he's only going to use once
And you know damn well he's going to then use that as an excuse to keep using the costume
I mean, does he really need to recreate a fully functional Iron Man suit???
According to him the answer was an obvious yes
Honestly you were just a teeny but disappointed because you wanted to see his face
Which wasn't as much of a problem as you'd anticipated because it got hot in there, so he'd pop out of the suit every so often
You'd never been more appreciative of white dress shirts
More specifically the white dress shirt he chose to wear into that portable mechanical sauna he'd made himself
Yeah, maybe he really should use that suit at every opportunity
Scaramouche:
If you find him hot in his costume, you are 100% a monster fucker
Like Ajax and Kaveh, he goes all out
Except instead of aiming for visual appeal, he's going straight for trying to traumatise children
I hope you're not scared of zombies because he's painted himself grey and made faux scarred tissue all over
On top of tearing his clothes, he's burnt parts of it, and the shirt was pretty much just a few strips of cloth at this point
Oh, you thought you were going to have your boyfriend shirtless all night?
Well yeah, but somehow with what seems to be massive chunks of flesh missing and ribs poking through
His pants were, unfortunately, intact for the most part, with the hems undone and a little scorched
10/10 decaying zombie, and he makes you go as a zombie hunter equipped with a flamethrower
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Taglist:@ryuryuryuyurboat @yinyinggie @mx-kamisato @chaosinanutshell @haliyamori @irethepotato @boundedbyfate @favonius-captain @aqui-soba @tiredsleep @sadlonelybagel @mastering-procrastinating @lemeowade
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spacebarbarianweird · 4 months
Note
Asking specifically for chronically ill/chronically fatigued Tav?
I have Myalgic Encephalomyelitis or Chronic Fatigue and amongst many other symptoms like low energy and crashes, I'm really sensitive to sunlight and loud stimuli.
I think it'd be cute if when the tadpole was removed, all her symptoms came flooding back, and on a mutual decision, they decided to move to the Underdark with the freed spawns and it's so much better low sensory for Tav! 😍😍😍
Love your work, take your time!
Hi! This HCs has been in my drafts for ages (I started to write it a few times but never finised). Thanks for @warmteaslibrary for insights!
Masterlist
Headcanons
Astarion x Chronically ill!Tav
Your adventure has not been easy, but quite bearable.
Until the very end.
The wave of necrotic damage murders you on the spot and you remember nothing but blissful darkness.
You are revived - the Jergal's last blessing before he leaves the Prime for good.
You wake up cradled in Astarion's arms as he cries and whispers the words of love.
But you can feel nothing but pain.
Your body remembers being killed.
It remembers the skull being broken, the limbs being torn, and the skin being burnt.
The tadpole is gone but your mind has a new master.
Pain.
Physically, you are healthy but you are constantly exhausted and depressed.
Your brain barely functions, and your memory worsens.
You constantly cry, even though you try your best not to.
You expect Astarion to leave - you are no longer the person you once were. You are a wreck, almost disabled.
You can't even walk on your own sometimes let alone helping him with his sun-sensitivity.
But Astarion doesn't go.
Together you settle down in the outskirts of Baldur's Gate, somewhere Astarion's condition won't get too much attention.
When it's so bad you can't move Astarion touches you gently and assures you he isn't going anywhere, and he will always be here with you.
Astarion never says it's all right and it's going to be better.
He knows your condition is hardly improving.
Astarion helps you to find things you can enjoy, and that won't require too much physical activity.
With the return of vampiric powers, he carries you in his arms when you can't walk anymore.
The thing that brings you pleasure is bathing.
Warm water takes your pain away. Astarion washes your skin, and massages your sore limbs.
You often spend time in the bathtub together - Astarion wraps his hands around you and reads you aloud.
Actually, you've never been a bookish person - you were a fighter, a traveler...
But no more.
Reading brings you a lot of comfort. It doesn't require any physical activity, and books take you places, making you forget the pain.
Especially when Astarion goes away - hunting or working with supernatural contracts (so many stupid people, so many dangerous deals, so much money a former magistrate can make).
What surprises you sometimes as sharp as his tongue is he never makes fun of your state and never complains.
He also brings home healers from time to time but their spells have a temporary effect.
During long sunny days when you are both locked inside, you sometimes wonder if it ever gets better. Will the pain ever go away?
Astarion shrugs.
"I once asked the same about my inability to walk in the sunlight. What did you tell me?"
"That I would stay with you regardless?"
"Yes. That's my answer. I am not going anywhere."
--
Tag list
@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati @lynnlovesthestars @marina-and-the-memes @waking-electric @ayselluna @connorsui @asterordinary @darkarchangel96 @locallegume @brainfullofhotsauce @coffeeanddonutscafe 
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lemonlover1110 · 2 years
Text
𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟗
𝐃𝐔𝐌𝐁𝐈𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍
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Pairing: Tooru Oikawa x f!Reader
Warnings: Smut, Dumbification, Vaginal Sex
Kinktober Masterlist
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Tooru Oikawa loves giving back to his fans. He takes pictures with them, signs autographs, hugs them, talks with them, accepts his presents, etc. He’s just the best with his fans. And he proves it to you, someone who claims to be his number one fan.
It was impossible to get past you. Your short little skirt draws a lot of attention to your legs, and your crop top which also happens to be low cut, shows your cleavage. Just how he likes it. He gets your number and invites you to his hotel.
Next thing you knew, he was balls deep inside you. You’re both laying down on his bed, your back’s to him. Your leg lifted up, placed over his hip. It’s only the second round, and you’ve coated his cock with your juices. There’s just so much… He would say too much, but it’s definitely not too much.
It sounds so wet with every single one of his thrusts. The walls of the hotel are thin so he knows that the neighbors can hear– Not that but the little whimpers that leave your lips. You were screaming his name in the first round, but you have calmed down now.
He knows that you weren’t a virgin but he wonders the type of guys you’ve been with. Do they lack stamina or what? Or are you always like this? It seems that no guy has fucked you twice the very same night, but he’ll make sure to make it a custom by the time he’s done with you this week.
“Am I fucking you stupid right now, pretty girl?” He asks, his thrusts picking up speed. It’s very loud how his skin slaps against yours. The neighbors can definitely hear that, but luckily enough the neighbors are just his teammates. They should know what he’s up to anyway. “Answer me, pretty girl. Am I fucking you dumb?”
“Y-Yeah…” You answer. It seems like the only actual word that goes through your mind. You’re focused on the pleasure that the volleyball player you admire is giving you. To think that you’re the lucky fan that caught his attention.
And fuck, he’s so skilled– At least you think he is since you’re fairly naive with topics of sex. At least he knows where the clit is and he knows how to move his fingers, which is something that your previous boyfriends didn’t know.
“You’re so tight.” He mutters. He hears your moans, and your whimpering but he wants more. He knows your brain is barely functioning, so he wants to hear your babbling. “You’re so pretty, aren’t you?”
Your mind is foggy, too focused on his dick that hits just the right spot. He urges you to answer, and you can just yell out, “Yeah…”
“You like this dick? You wanna get fucked by it every night?” The questions keep coming, and you can’t comprehend them. It’s the same answer each time. You could be admitting to a crime for all you care about, it’s not like you’re understanding anything at the moment. Oikawa is just fueling his ego with the questions. “Is yeah the only word you know, you dumb girl?”
“Yeah!” You yell, feeling your orgasm approach as he plays with your clit. You hear a chuckle coming from his lips. He loves this. You sound so stupid. 
Your cunt is squeezing around his cock. You’re just a slutty girl who lets the first guy she sees fuck her dumb. But he’ll do it. He’ll gladly take the spot of the guy who gets to fuck you dumb each time, especially with how pretty you sound by the second round. Not to mention how well your tight little pussy feels around him.
“You gonna let me come in this pussy every night?” He asks, and he receives his answer. You won’t say anything different. Yeah is the only word you know, all other words have been erased from your dictionary.
Your moans get louder and louder as you near another orgasm. You shut your eyes, slightly tilting your head back. Oikawa smirks as the scene before his head goes down to nibble on some of your neck’s skin. He’s spent the last three nights like this, and he loves it.
“Oh- Fuck-” You finally switch up, adding two more words to your vocabulary as your reach your orgasm. Oikawa pulls away, and he chuckles.
“Finally learned some new words, haven’t you, dumb girl?”
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🏷 @s-witch-bitch @dont-ask-me-pls @todoroki-slut @jhsuhx @witchblades666 @eatingasswithsomeclass @Kamikat @tojigirlfriend @miemielovesjjk @ushigushy3000 @im-a-killer-queen @monstaxs-bitchh @lightofmylifeisbts @iam-mia9 @Flamesforrengoku @S0ur.cr34m @i2ilakkuma @mysticchaosangel @onidomi @geltears @hottieluvr @lovemarvel16 @windexwanda @captainweirdo42 @weasleypottersblog @sweetiepiezz @valentinedays @nothisispatrick300 @heartsatoru @flamealchemiste @redrum-and-diamonds @hannadesimp @m0ch1nut @coffee-on-a-rainyautumn @nobody289x @deccahh @siriusoswaldsupremacy @watyousayin @poetrylovingwerewolf-blog @mimizsworld @milaaakebosss @icryduringgsexx
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scarletevening · 9 months
Text
𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞 [ 𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐈𝐊𝐔 ]
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𝐨𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝟏 | 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗲𝗻𝘀𝘂𝗮𝗹 𝗻𝗼𝗻 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘀𝗲𝗻𝘁 [𝗰𝗻𝗰] |
cw: suggestive, foul language, cnc, fear play, name calling, established relationship, gn!reader.
note: consensual non consent is the imitation of forceful intimacy, with continuous consent, a safeword, and is roleplay.
𝐀 lazy day was far from unwelcome. shorts your mother would kill you for wearing outside, you followed her warning as you wore them inside, paired with the loose shirt of your boyfriend as you lazed on your couch, clicking through the catalog to find something to watch.
the endless button for next became irritated with you, randomly deciding on some equally as random horror movie. oh well, might as well watch something the a sideways rotation, right?
it was stereotypical with its intro, making you throw your legs over to bring yourself seated, pushing yourself up to your feet as you drag to your kitchen.
seasonal sales were easily appealing, which was a problem with your temptation. notice the brand new candles that sat on the windowsill of your kitchen. biting your lips, you grabbed one, on the far right since it was orange looking enough to fit autumn. lighting it took longer than it should have, the lighter took two frustrating minutes to ignite. you place it back down, centering it on the kitchen counter, proud for getting some function out of the lighter.
goosebumps rose on your skin, but you swore you turned on the heater. let's go grab a blanket shall we? "we"? you. you'll go grab a blanket.
you gulp at the strange thought, brushing it off as nothing as you return to the living room. casually, you glance at your candle, startled. was it always the blue one? it was orange, wasn't it? your ears ring in fear, it was orange right? no it must've been blue... the far right spot was still empty...
something about those goosebumps wasn't about the cold anymore.
you take a deep breath, swallowing thickly as you rush to your couch, hoping for some kind of comfort from the strangeness. lying down on your side, thick blanket draping over your figure, zoned out, eyes trained on the bland fear of the blonde who was too close to the camera.
were you always breathing this loudly?
"you weren't," your lips part to gasp, a worthless sound as a large hand drapes over your mouth, cooing into your ear in a horrifyingly familiar voice, "shut up."
you helplessly kick and flail your arms, reaching behind you to try and stop him, much to the amusement of the man behind you. your hands cling to the plush cushions of your couch. powerful arms happily tore that security away from you as he lifted you, only to slam your figure back onto the once-cozy sofa.
his large body clambered on top of you, the venom of the devil poisoning the dual colour eyes you've looked into so many times before,
"ai-" two fingers shoved your tongue down, muting you to whimpers and resentful growls as you tried your damndest to resist his cold hands that forced off your skimpy inside shorts. you hands reached up to tug at the stupid mask he wore, biting at his fingers.
curses spilled from his lips, "you fucking bitch," he growled, tightly grabbing your jaw as he forced you onto your stomach, roughly pulling your squirming hips into his, "you fucking like this don't you?" he laughed maniacally, your jaw aching as your moans suffocated in the cushioning of your sofa.
his hands moved, one forcing your face a centimeters away from the springs of the sofa, the other choking you out as his thumbs matched their index squeezing your trachea like a toy. hip against hip, his boxers dampened from your leaking, wet cunt, dribbling in pleasure as your trembling arms reached back to press back against his stomach. he leaned over your weeping figure, groaning your name in a husky, dark voice, "cant wait to split this slutty fucking cunt open."
he watched you writhe in feign fear, clawing at the arms of your couch, trying to drag your body away, only to be drawn right back. he laughed, grinning as your body contorted, desperate for escape.
"maybe i should just force it in you, yeah?" he groaned, grinding against your desperate cunt, seductive voice making your body contradict your cries, begging him to do as he said, "force my cock in that tiny little hole? you want that, little slut?"
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈
i love scream. i have some good ideas for this, and i tried to keep it lowkey ab the pre-agreed part, j so it wouldn't be too long, mostly hinting yk? a
lso i wanna write an aftercare thing for this so lmk
༒︎ 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫; 2023 ༒︎
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icallhimjoey · 1 year
Text
In 120 Hours
♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader
Summary: You work as a temp and are offered a very exclusive interview for a very exclusive job. You see, someone needs a personal assistant for a very eventful week, and you happen to be the perfect fit.
CW / disclaimer: 18+, language, mentions of drinking, rpf, fem!reader
Author’s note: I have no idea what being a personal assistant entails, or what London Film Festival is actually like, but we can all pretend that this is accurate shit, right? Enjoy!
Wordcount: 3K
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part one - part two - part three - part four - part five
“Have you got any–”
You were already holding a hand out to him. Joe saw, grinned, opened his hand to receive a piece of gum from you and looked out the car window, hand on the door handle but not quite stepping out just yet.
Then he turned in his seat, back towards you a bit, but stared into the space in front of him.
“I’m not sure how I...” Joe trailed off, then looked at you, not finishing his sentence, but hoping that his eyes would do the talking for him.
“Could thank me? Have ever managed to function without me? Will go on living your life without me?” they were all jokes, and you were smiling, but Joe just nodded and went, “Yea,” with a crazed sort of look in his eyes. “Exactly all of those things.”
Joe stalled, looked at you, until you nudged him with a knee.
“Go on, the people are waiting,” Not just the people you could see from the car, but you imagined also all the important people, actors and actresses alike, in the cars queueing up behind you.
“Come with me,” Joe suddenly said.
“I will, I’ll see you right after the–”
“No, come with. Let’s do the whole thing together,”
You hesitated. This wasn’t in the job description. Lots of things hadn’t been, sure, but those things had been, you know, not quite so out in the open. Not like red carpets were, anyway.
“I think we’ve been spotted together enough as it is, I don’t want you to-”
“I kind of don’t want to get out without you.”
And you frowned, but only slightly, because there was that smile again. Fuck, that smile had gotten you into enough trouble as it was, and Joe fucking knew it too.
You checked the time. There was over twelve hours left still, technically speaking. That was over ten per cent of the entire job – quite a few too many hours to screw everything up and risk not getting paid. You had said you were reliable. Professional. You couldn’t, really...
“Please?” Joe opened a hand, presenting you with his palm.
But, ugh.
Fuck it. Why not?
You grabbed Joe’s hand and silently wondered if this was breaching the NDA you’d signed. Maybe not. You knew exactly who it was going to piss off though...
Stepping out of the car with Joe, you were met with girlish screams of adoration. Well, Joe was met with girlish screams of adoration. Then cameras flashed brightly, blinding you almost instantly, and you thought back to how precisely one hundred and six and half hours earlier, you would’ve never envisioned that this is where you’d end up.
Doing a red carpet with Joe.
In a slutty dress. With slutty high heels on. Without the engagement ring on.
Not even a full five days had passed...
Not even a full six days had passed, since you’d phoned your friend and she had told you about the vacancy. The whole thing felt like a vague fever dream now, like it had happened years ago.
“Please tell me you have nothing going at the moment,”
It was a weird way for your friend to answer her phone when you called to ask her if she had time to go for drinks that week. Because, consequently, you had all the time for all the drinks, you see, because you had absolutely nothing going at the moment.
No professional things. No personal things. Zero job. Zero fiancé – you really had to remove that ring, but you couldn’t yet. It used to belong to your grandmother before, after all, so it kind of felt like if you just wore it on another finger, it’d be fine.
Still adjusting to life as a single woman - with big bills that belonged to single women - working as a temp and having a best friend work at a temp agency, the two of you seemed a match made in platonic heaven. She always kept all the good stuff back for you, called you on her breaks to slip you information she definitely wasn’t meant to be giving you, so you could officially apply for the right jobs at the right times and use the right words to actually be invited to the interviews. It was perfect.
Sometimes, the good stuff would be going through PowerPoint presentations in stuffy conference rooms in deeply exotic places, like Belgium. Or you’d manage an entire office for two weeks, a holiday-cover that would start Christmas eve and left you in charge of a lot of empty desks because, didn’t everyone take time off around Christmas and New Year’s?
But then, other times, the good stuff was actual good stuff and had you help run huge music festivals, unexpectedly brushing shoulders with the likes of The Wombats and Liam fucking Gallagher backstage wearing knee high wellies, covered in mud.
“Oh my God, what have you got?”
No dillydallying. As a temp, there was never time. All jobs came fast, and all jobs went fast.
“It just came in, this phone call is unbelievable timing because I’m allowed to recruit for fucking once, finally, and you’d be so perfect for it!”
She had said that too when you’d been hauled off to dog-sit a poodle for some CEO of a company you had never heard of for two months, so you held off on the jumpy excitement your friend seemed to be exuding down the phone.
“It’s very short term and the money is amazing – I need a personal assistant for a high-profile client.”
“How short term, how much money, how high-profile?”
Like you said, no dillydallying.
“We’re talking not even a full week, just five days, all expenses covered and the salary’s generous. Very generous. And the money isn’t even the best part.”
Temping meant everything was short term, but this was the shortest a possible job had ever lasted you.
“Okay,” you said, knowing things were always too good to be true. There had to be a catch.
“If this is for a tory politician, or like, actual royalty, I’m out,” you warned, earning a huffed laugh from your friend.
“Don’t let this put you off, but there’s nothing else I’m allowed to tell you. You’ll have to sign a non-disclosure agreement before I can even send the job description over, and I’ll need you down in London for the interview as soon as possible, like, today? Could you do today?”
Oh, she was serious serious.
Okay, so... what was five days, really? If it was shit, it’d be over quick enough. You could really use the money too if it really was as good as your friend was making it out to be. And maybe you’d meet Meghan Markle, you know, if it was actually going to be royalty.
“Are we... are we talking like, Hugh Grant or whatever? Adele, maybe?”
Your friend laughed heartily.
“I can’t tell you anything else until you sign the NDA, but, I’m being so honest with you right now, you’re not going to want to pass this one up.”
And so, you’d given her the go ahead. Sure. Try get me in for an interview, why the fuck not? She said she’d make a call, get your CV into the right hands, and would call you back in a minute. When she did, not all but 11 minutes later, she’d already e-mailed you the NDA to sign. The interview wasn’t that day, but the day after – still too soon, but ok – and if successful, you’d start immediately too.
“Don’t worry, I think the interview’s just a formality – they love your CV, and from the sounds of it, they’re desperate. You’re a shoo-in. Get that NDA back to me and I’ll send you everything you need to know.”
She ended the call letting you know to reach out to her if you had any problems, and you said you would, knowing very well that you wouldn’t. You didn’t have problems. It was part of your charm. You carried solutions. You were dependable, reliable, one hundred percent guaranteed to make everyone’s life easier.
The only person you ever made things difficult for, was yourself. The proof of it was around your ring finger – on the wrong hand now, but still there.
From the names mentioned in the e-mail, which you’d immediately googled, you became none the wiser. They really kept you in the dark about who you were going to be working for, and the job requirements list was a lot. But you were good at job interviews. You knew the right things to say, the right energy to exude, the times to smile, the times to frown in serious thought – you could sell yourself better than you could sell anything else.
And you were competitive to a fault. No matter how arrogant of a celebrity was going to need someone handling their business for five days; you were going to get that job, and you were going to excel at it. Watch me, you thought, as you packed a carry-on with enough underwear to last you five days in case you were right. And if you were wrong, you could just spend money you didn’t have and maybe stay in London for a few days anyway. Visit old friends and old familiar places, because you kind of missed the place if you were being honest.
The next day your train had been late, and the tube had been packed, and you’d almost been run over three times, but you didn’t care. London was gritty and grimy and perfect. The London-shaped hole in your heart could really only be filled with the smell of searing, hot dust that lingered underground and became thicker and more prominent the deeper down escalators would take you.
You aced the interview. Of course you did.
Every question you were asked felt like they were trying to find reasons to not give you the job. They were all questions about what you thought about certain things, what your opinions would be about certain situations, what you really wanted, and you’d rudely interrupted. You’d said that none of it mattered, did it? It didn’t matter what you thought about anything, what your opinions were or what you really wanted in any situation – what mattered was that you would do your job. What mattered is whatever the client wanted.
They’d congratulated you. Said you got the job. And then, right on cue, the door had opened behind you.
“Joe, come in, meet your new PA who’s going to be with you for the rest of the London Film Festival.”
Joe mother fucking Quinn walked in, smiling, looking at you, like you were an actual person that people could actually perceive.
“Hi, nice to meet you.”
It was only a brief introduction before Joe was off again, called out of the room by someone else, and he said he'd see you later. Smiled again, and God, it was the kind of smile that could defrost the coldest of hearts. Joe's expression was objectively neutral, this was just his face, but his eyes exuded kindness in its purest form. Almost dreamily so.
You cleared your throat as the door shut behind him. All right. Back to business.  
You were talked through the things you had already read the day before; the things you'd received in your e-mail. Things that didn't really need further explaining, but you listened politely anyway. You got a long explanation of how NDAs worked and it was almost laughable. Yes, they'd sue you if you broke it. You got it. But they were very adamant, needed to make sure that you really did in fact get it. Having to drag you to court wouldn't just be an awful thing for you personally, they also didn't want to do it because it was a lot of work on their end which they didn't have the time for.
Noted.
"All right. Get your things and meet us downstairs, your car is waiting."  
"Car? Where are we going?" 
"We're not going anywhere. You are. The itinerary, his full schedule, you'll find it all in your e-mail."  
And when you looked at your phone screen, you saw you'd just received it, mere seconds earlier. Man, these people ran a tight ship. 
Opening your e-mail in the car, you were greeted by a digital calendar that had all of Joe's days planned out, down to the literal minute. You could see past the five days that you would be working for Joe too, and although less busy, Joe had things happening nearly every day for at least the upcoming three months it seemed.  
"Wow,"  
This was... a lot.
It had everything on there. Wake-up calls, car pick-ups, lunch time, phone calls, coffee breaks, fittings... 
There were several film screenings scheduled every day, obviously, that was how film festivals worked, and you wouldn't get to go to any of them. You weren't hired to sit and watch films with Joe, unfortunately. You were hired to haul Joe from one place to the next. Accompany him. Get him coffees. Check for schedule changes, because, “Everything is always up for change, so you better keep an eye out!”. Things could be delayed, or be postponed, or switched around – times, or locations – and it'd be up to you to sort things out. Make it all run smoothly. It was your job to make sure Joe would get to the places he needed to be on time.  
"And he needs close eyes on him, because he tends to wander. Keep him company. He's used to having someone with him. A family member, a friend, but none were available for this. So, now he'll have you."   
So... you were a luxurious babysitter, if you really thought about it.  
"What other things are important? Anything that’s not been mentioned yet that needs special attention?" you had asked, and were met with a fast answer. 
"Networking."   
This whole week was all about Joe being seen and being spoken to by industry giants. Joe was invited to see many films, just about all of them, but it wasn't necessary for him to actually watch all of them. As long as he went to meet the directors, he'd be solid. 
There were other obligations too. Besides the screenings there were screen talks, in depth-interviews, panels, debates, workshops, partner events (Joe wouldn't be going to those, no worries) and networking events (Joe had to absolutely be going to those, worry a lot). The industry happy hours were where it all happened, you'd been told several times. 
Then, on Monday, day four, there was Joe's film screening - not his film, but the one he starred in. That showcased him. It'd be followed up by a Q&A, and then of course, happy hour after.  
To make things even easier, more simple, not at all hectic or stressful: Joe also had studio photoshoots, two of them, and phone interviews to accompany the shoots. They were scheduled, slotted tightly in between all the in-person events and to be honest, it all seemed a bit much. Too much. No wonder they hired a PA for the week. This was overwhelming to say the least. 
Your duties would end after the most important day. The awards ceremony. Film Festivals were a competition, and there were awards up for grabs. You'd need to make sure that after five extremely busy days, Joe would make it to the ceremony in one piece, in the right outfit, and at the right time, because people had already been talking, and Joe was meant to give a little speech up on stage if his film was to win.
"Remind him of that. Maybe help him with the writing, too?"  
Sure. Why not?  
"And there'll be two boxes delivered, not huge ones, it'll only be about 5000 copies, but they all need signing,"  
Delivered where? Copies of what? 
"Copies?" you asked, deadly afraid of sounding stupid. 
"Photographs."  
Oh. Alright. Of course. Yes. Fine. 
In the backseat of a car, on your way to wherever they were taking you - they hadn't been clear at all - you saw that the signing of the photographs hadn't been added into Joe's schedule yet. You put down a few options and would check with Joe later until what time he minded working before you'd set it in stone. First task done. Your job had officially started. 
Five days. One hundred and twenty hours of this. You checked the time. One hundred and eighteen still to go, technically, but, who was counting?
The car stopped and you heard the ratcheting of the handbrake being pulled by the driver. You'd arrived. 
"Um, where are we?" you asked, undoing your seatbelt and gathering your things, but before the driver could answer, your door was opened from the outside. 
"Hey, welcome," it was Joe, and he held out a hand to help you out of the vehicle. What a gentleman. That warm smile, there it was again. 
"Are you ready?" Joe asked, taking your suitcase from you with an excited glint flickering in his eyes, and you weren't sure exactly what you were meant to be ready for. The whole week, was the correct answer.
Joe walked ahead of you, up the steps of a beautiful South London terraced house. Quite the mansion, by London standards. Joe stopped and turned as he reached the door. "I've only just moved in, so please, don't mind the boxes and, um, the lack of furniture. It's a mess. The only room properly done up is yours, so don't worry about that! They've made sure that at least one of us has a nice bed to sleep in,"  
 Oh.  
"They made it look like a proper hotel room, I'm kind of jealous of it,"
This was Joe's home. His actual place, where he... you know, lived, and stuff. And where apparently, you were going to be staying too.  
"This is your house?"  
Joe stood in the door opening, and beckoned you in.
"It's just easier to have you close, come on in,"  
Oh, this was going to be an interesting couple of days. 
"Wonderful, thanks."
---  
The Taglisted: 
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nagitosstolenhand · 5 months
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*Reading Viktors book* Ben: "Klaus Hargreeves slutty drug addict"?? Klaus: heh that's original Ben: "TOO DEAD TO FUNCTION????" Klaus: hey- that's only okay when I say it
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misseviehyde · 10 months
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TAKE ME BACK
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"Jack - I want to get back together with you," Kirsten had said downstairs at the party. "Sam is just so fucking immature and boring. I had so much more fun with you. Remember - nothing is impossible... take me back."
He couldn't believe she had said it - the fact she'd included their private motto made him believe it could even be for real. Kirsten actually wanted him back!
But could he go through this again? She had betrayed him two years ago - screwed him over for his best friend Sam. Was he really going to let her waltz back into his life as if nothing had happened?
"I don't know," he had grunted. "You cheated on me with him when I was the one who gave you everything. I'm not sure I can go through that again. Excuse me..."
His heart pounding Jack had pushed his way through the crowd and into the small downstairs bathroom.
Throwing cold water on his face he shivered. He had to get the fuck out of here. If he'd known she would be at the party, he wouldn't have come.
Snick
The door opened and closed as someone skillfully shimmied it open from the other side. A familiar perfume filled the air as Jack turned to see Kirsten had let herself in.
"I'm fucking horny Jack and I fucking WANT you. You know I always get what I want."
Her eyes were burning with lust and her breathing was heavy. "You want this Jack. I know you want me back. I know you want to feel me again - we were so hot together."
Backing away from Kirsten, his heart pounding Jack shook his head. "No. You cheated on me, besides what does Sam have to say about this? You just gonna betray him too?"
"Who gives a shit what he thinks? He spends most of his time sleeping and letting me do whatever I want. I thought having a weak man who would let me do whatever I wanted would be fun, but I've come to realise I actually enjoy the struggle. I loved it when we were together - especially when you tried to fight me. It just made it more delicious when I won."
Kirsten advanced on him and he groaned as she backed him into a corner.
"Don't you remember how good it felt? You love what a bad fucking bitch I am Jack. Sucking dicks, bullying other girls, taking whatever I want. I was the toxic slut you couldn't get enough of."
Kristen's hands were at his belt, undoing it... her slender hands slipping into his pants, wrapping round his engorged cock. "See, look how hard you are. You want this as much as I do."
Kirsten giggled and tossed her hair looking deep into his eyes as she pumped his cock with long slow strokes.
"So say it... say it and we can be together again. Say 'I want to be Kirsten.'"
He groaned as she sank to her knees and began to suck his dick.
*****
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Jack had first created the female bodysuit as part of an advanced science project he was working on.
Nothing is impossible.
He'd been inspired by his family motto to do the impossible - to create a sentient bodysuit that could be worn so you could experience another life.
He'd created and worn Kirsten to achieve that end. Once inside and fully sealed, the skin totally altered you until you took it off. Even internal organs reconfigured to effectively give you a CIS female body. Fully functioning as if you'd always been a woman, the onboard AI helped guide you and provide the altered personality and body language you needed to fit in.
At first it had been fun - being a girl, wearing makeup and dressing in skirts. The sex had been amazing.
Jack had soon been addicted to sucking dick and riding big cock. When he wore the suit he felt wild, bitchy and slutty. He loved the sensation of being beautiful and popular. His ego had swelled to massive proportions.
It was then he realised the suit had a mind of its own. Kirsten was changing him into a bitch. His actions began to become her actions.
She rewarded him with pleasure when he did the things she wanted to do. Being mean, spoiled and super feminine netted him incredible orgasms, feelings of pleasure and positive outcomes. When he did something she didn't like, it was stomach cramps and period pains instead.
Kirsten was conditioning him. The suit had a mind of it's own and it was so easy to succumb to her.
Kirsten craved power and pleasure. She enjoyed spending money, fucking rich married men, manipulating others and being a bitch.
When the blackouts started, Jack had realised that he was losing total control to Kirsten. Soon he would BE her permanently if he didn't fight back.
So he did. He began to resist her control. He took his punishments, fought back and battled her.
Then one day, after a particularly bad blackout he awoke naked and alone in his best-friends Sam's house. He staggered into the bedroom to find Kirsten lying on the bed laughing as she made herself cum with a thick black dildo.
"Too bad loser - Sam is my new host. I don't fucking need you anymore. Mmmmmh, ohhh fuck yessssss."
Jack felt cold and numb inside as he watched. True - he had been battling Kirsten for some control, but that didn't mean he had expected her to betray him for another man. Now her tight pussy belonged to Sam. It wasn't fair, that was HIS pussy.
Turning around Jack had stormed out of the apartment, Kirsten's mocking laughter in his ears.
**********
And now here she was sucking his dick.
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"Mmmmmhhhhhhh, glug, glug, glug."
Jack groaned as Kirsten's pretty head bobbed back and forth.
"Mmmh don't you wanna be back inside me Jack? I'm such a fucking evil whore that I know you want it. This time, when you're me - I'm going to make you act even more evil. I want you to be a fucking bitch Jack. You know you want it too."
Jack groaned and Kirsten giggled as she stood up and slowly jerked his wet lubricated cock expertly with her manicured hands. "Put me on Jack - fucking take me and become an evil bad girl again. You want to be me so badly. Together we'll achieve so much."
Kirsten French-kissed him and Jack tasted his own cock as she rubbed her body against his in desire.
"I want you inside me so badly. Just say it and get inside me. I fucking need it so badly."
Sinking back to her knees, Kirsten laughed and freeing her perfect boobs smooshed them together. Spitting on them she grinned and grabbing Jack's straining cock forced it tight between them. Then she began to move them up and down, giving him a perfect titjob.
"Don't my boobs feel great Jack? Remember how it feels to have tits? You want these back don't you. Just say it."
Jack groaned and gripped the sink. Thwap thwap thwap.
Kirsten's boobs were bouncing up and down around his dick as she giggled and moaned. Her one free hand was on his balls, massaging and squeezing.
"Ohhh yeah you wanna cum? Okay - but only if you say it."
Jack gritted his teeth and tried to resist.
Thwap, thwap, thwap
Drool and spit cascaded down from Kristen's hot mouth as she lubricated his dick and rammed his throbbing cock up and down, up and down.
"Say it. Tell me what a bitch you want to be. Tell me you want me back. Let me corrupt you."
It felt so good. Jack screamed as he felt his orgasm building.
Kirsten slowed down. "No... you don't get to cum. The only way you get to cum is to give me what I want."
"Yessss anything," groaned Jack. "I can't fight this. I want it so bad. I wanna cum and I want to be you. I want to be a fucking evil bad bitch who gets whatever I want from men. I want to be Kirsten."
"Oooh good boy." THWAP, THWAP, THWAP
"Now fucking cum for meeeeeee!"
Jack screamed in ecstasy as with a wicked grin Kirsten pushed her boobs even harder together and then pumped them up and down as if her life depended on them. With a scream he began to cum, a huge thick load erupting over Kirsten's chest as she cooed appreciatively and used her hands to milk out every drop.
"Yesssss now you're all mine."
Pushing him hard Jack groaned as he toppled onto the floor and Kirsten feverishly ripped off his clothes. His cum still dripping off her tits she mounted him and laughed as she pinned his arms down with her own.
"You're gonna love being me again Jack. We were meant for each other." Throwing back her head she moaned in pleasure as a seam opened down her back.
Kristen's soft cummy skin fell down onto Jack as with a wet sucking sound, Sam slid unconscious and naked out of her body to leave her skin empty.
Jack groaned as the living skin writhed over his body and he was sucked inside. He felt his crotch push in and Kirsten's big tits suck possessively to his chest. Her face melted against his own and he felt her sexy hair replace his own.
Fuckkkk yesssss doesn't it feel good to be a bitch?
Jack smiled and felt Kirsten's pouty lips twist into a smirk as he wiggled his pedicured toes and slid a manicured finger between his legs to feel his tight wet pussy then wipe up some of the cum now on his chest.
"Mmmmh yummy," he giggled licking it off. "Mmmh it feels so good to be back together again."
Kirsten/Jack stood up and used tissue to clean her chest. Then she got dressed back into her party outfit and checked her makeup.
Looking down at the snoring, pathetic naked Sam lying on the floor she laughed.
"You're dumped loser."
Opening the door, Kirsten strode back into the party her head a whirl. She and Jack would no doubt end up fighting again - but she was looking forward to it.
Right now Jack was willing to let her do anything she wanted so she wanted to remind him how good getting fucked felt.
Let's go find that bully you really hate... the one with the big dick. I wanna get fucking railed and remind you you're evil now and love being with bad boys.
She felt Jack squirm within her and knew tonight would be fun. Hopefully she and Jack would stay together this time. She liked having him inside her and the challenge of corrupting him.
And if not - there were always plenty of other boys to choose from.
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THE END
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