“ Accidents Happen ” || Tokyo Rev. Pt.2

what lesbian situationship does to mfs

aka

caitvi matching pfps

ref

this is pretty much what happened. right.

Happy pride Lawlighters 🖤🏳️‍🌈🤍

the baddies and their overprotective big brothers

Who is she?

Someone new comes in

ft. Satoru, Suguru, Choso, Nanami, Sukuna, Toji

CW: Angst

A/N: Hi besties! Here we have the 2k celebration smau. I have to say, I had a lot of fun making this. It was tied up between fluff and angst for the celebration but ultimately angst won by a dick hair hahaha. Don't worry fluff lovers, there's things to come for you guys. After all, it's almost valentines day 😉

somewhere out there, heimerdinger just dropped the biggest, most justified ‘i told you so’

pitfighter!vi knew it was bad to be indulging in something like a whorehouse, yet, she found herself at babettes often since she starting fighting in the ring.

usually, it was a quick in and out, but this time, she heard of a new worker. since the others started declining her because they were too rough with them, she decided to take the chances with you.

she drunkenly stumbled into babette’s place, grabbing onto the doorframe to steady herself.

that’s when she saw you. standing there, all pretty in nothing but pink.

vi’s eyes widen. she sees you talking to babette, no doubt starting as a worker there. vi chuckles to herself as she thinks, oh, i’m having fun tonight.

vi stumbles forward, grimacing as her shoulder hits the wall. she walks forward, leaning against the front desk.

“hey, babette.” vi slurs. she turns her glance to you, peering you up and down. her hungry, raw eyes make a shiver go down your spine. her badly-dyed black hair, ends pink, like how you assumed her hair used to look. she had bruises on her face, blood stained on her lip.

you gasp.

“hey, beautiful.” the girl rasps.

“vi.” babette says calmly, “i’m afraid.. you’ll have to take your business elsewhere.”

“what?” she turns to babette. “why?”

“well.. none of my girls will take you anymore. if i mention your name, they instantly say no.”

what the hell could this girl have done that makes it so every girl would decline her? money is money, you thought. and this girl seems willing to pay it.

“that’s bullshit.” she scoffed, slapping her palm on the desk. “bunch of wimps.”

“that’s precisely why, violet.” babette shakes her head. and her name is so.. un-fitting, you think. maybe the girl she was before, the girl with pink hair, was violet. but, this didn’t seem like a girl who deserved the honour to be named after things as delicate as flowers. but then again, you never liked delicate girls.

“i will.” you speak up. you straighten your back.

the girl— vi, turns to you. she eyes you up and down. and she reeks of alcohol, but, you could overlook that.

truth be told, you wanted to see what she would do that the others that made them not want to take her as a client anymore. you wanted to see what she could do.

“will you?” vi leans toward you. you smell the alcohol on her tongue. what made her this confident.. and if she can back it up?

and babette gives you a look. “alright. goodluck, then.” she snorts, leaning back.

you glance back toward vi. her eyes are staring at you like she can see underneath your clothes. undressing you with her eyes. and you wonder how she could look so damn hot.

red jacket. black hair. face-paint on her face. the way she held herself was so.. unreal. she knew she was attractive, and that’s what made her even more attractive.

you hadn’t had a good fuck in a while. at your old brothel, it was nothing but smelly, old, beer-bellied men, often from piltover looking for the thrill on cheating on their wives.

so, you hoped, maybe, just maybe, her reputation holds up, and you can just.. let yourself go.

oh, and boy, was she able to hold it.

you were writhing. your legs shaking, wrapped around her head as she eats you out like you’re a damned feast on christmas eve.

“o-oh, gods!” you’d scream, hands digging into her black hair, gripping and pulling her scalp. vi whines against you as you pull and tug, your plush, soft thighs wrapped so tightly around your head.

her fingers curl inside of you, only adding to the pure euphoria you feel. you’d fully forgotten everything— nothing mattered but vi’s tongue on you, licking through your folds, tasting you, feasting on you.

“ugh— fuck!” you whine, head throwing back against the pillow. the smoke of the candle around you, earthy scent only adding to the fog in your head.

how could anyone pass up on this? you’d think as her tongue brings you to your fourth orgasm of the night. your voice cracks from the sounds you’ve been making, no longer caring about how people might hear you. you’re too far gone to care.

“that’s it,” you hear vi whisper, voice vibrating against your skin in the most pleasurable way as it could. her voice was rasped, so drunk on your taste that she swore she’d never tasted better pussy before she met you.

“vi, vi, vi—“ you chant her name like a damn mantra as her hands tighten on your hips, dragging you toward her as you begin to pull away.

“oh, fuck, s’too much!” your voice slurs, her tongue chasing you as you pull back.

but that wasn’t true. you wanted this, you wanted more then this, you wanted to be treated so well that you forgot your own name.

she takes a second, pulls her head away, and you sigh in relief. “you asked for this.” she says, before running her tongue along your folds, your hips jerking at the sudden stimulation.

she placed a kiss against you, before pulling back, running a hand over her hair, inhaling a deep breath.

yet, her hands don’t pull away. she smiles a toothy smile as her fingers begun rubbing small, long circles over your most sensitive spot, leaning toward you.

“mmf, vi.” you cry, eyes opening to peer up at her. you don’t realize the tear running down your temple before she wipes it away.

“so beautiful.” vi gasped, fingers dipping inside you only to move back up. you cry out, legs shutting against her hand, preventing her from moving her hands any further.

but, her eyes darken, and her other hand rips your leg to the side, pinning it to the side of the bed.

“don’t do that.” she nearly damn growled, “do that again, and you’re only getting it worse.”

she leans toward you, eyes glancing all over your body, at the plush of your stomach, so soft, and twitching, pushing up from the bed, leaning into her touch despite your protests.

“ohmygod!” you whine. “fuck, oh my god!”

everything around you was so hazy. so foggy, so unreal. her hands were unreal, so laced with skill it almost drove you insane.

“said you can take it.” vi’s slurred voice only brings you more into the spiral of your own pleasure. her lips find your neck, placing sloppy, open mouthed kisses on your skin. her teeth nip at your neck, grazing against your skin, and it’s such a sweet gesture if you weren’t so out of it.

the feeling makes your skin set ablaze, prickles all over your body.

“you can take another. can’t you? hm?” she hums against you as her slender fingers dip back into you, curling, pressing against that spot she now knew drove you absolutely crazy.

and you whimper and whine, but you don’t protest. you wanted this. that’s all you’ve wanted for years. someone who can keep up with your stamina, your needs.

and vi not only meets that, but surpasses it. you swore she was between your legs for three hours and didn’t move once to breathe.

she was so enveloped in you. and that’s what you need.

her fingers rile you up, ignoring the absolute ache of your core, your whole entire body. you relished in the fact that you’d probably be here all night, but that’s what you wanted.

and as you feel your stomach untwist, that knot release, your vision goes fucking white from the searing, hot pleasure through your whole body.

“ohm—“ you cry, chest heaving as her fingers work you through your orgasm, slowly, yet continuing to abuse your bruised spot that she’d been hitting all night. “fuck, fuck! fuck me, oh my god!” you cry, gasping for air.

your arms throw around her, pulling her against you, entire body curling into her, legs clamping around her hand. your body shook, your nerves feeling like they were alive, and they would never die.

and finally, she stops.

you gasp a satisfied breath of air, mouth falling open, eyes squeezing shut before she finally lets her hand slip away from you.

her hands glide up your body, stopping at your hips before she hauls you over her own body. her hand rests on your back, her own breath heavy as she tries to regain herself.

“you’re amazing.” she whispers against your hair. you freeze, taken aback by the sudden intimacy, but you let yourself melt into her, both not having the will or the strength to pull away from her.

“you’re fucking amazing.”

and slowly, you laugh. you glance toward her.

“are you.. are you done?” you say quietly, timidly.

she cocks a brow. “do you not want me to be?”

you shake your head. “no, no..” you inhale a deep breath, hand moving to take one of the strands in her hair in your palm. “for now, im done.” you snort as you shake your head, body still compelling from the previous orgasms. “but..”

“but?” she hums, hand moving to grab the plush of your ass, before running up your back. you gasp at the crude gesture.

but, you shake it off.

“you.. you haven’t let me touch you at all.” you say, shakingly pushing yourself up, resting your palms on her chest.

you let your hair spill over your face as you move closer, lips hovering just above hers.

“yeah. that’s not what i’m here for.”

vi gasps a breath of air. she brings herself closer, hands resting on your hips.

“that’s what you paid me for.” i cock a brow, before laughing and pressing kisses along her jaw, up to the corner of her mouth, testing the waters.

you smirk, you hand moving down to her jacket, slowly pulling it away.

“let me do my job. huh?”

“fine. but you’re not getting anything out of me. i give. i don’t receive.”

“you underestimate me.” you smile against her lips. “i’ve been in this business for years. i know how to pleasure a woman, vi.”

she pushes herself up, nose touching eachothers.

“we’ll see about that, cupcake.”

vi left the brothel feeling like a new person. all she could think was, what the fuck?

she clears her throat as she passes by babette, not daring to look at her as she struggles to stand on her shaking legs.

she discovered something about herself she never thought she would that night. and oh, she’d definitely be coming back if that meant you were there.

a/n. for @obivari :,)) more info on my taglist here

part 2 here.

just a pretty face part four (pre-relationship)

summary: let me explain !! warnings: angst, talk of drinking, talk of food, suggestive, language, slut shaming, 18+ minors and ageless blogs do not interact, not proofread incl: gojo, geto, nanami, toji, shiu, sukuna, choso, ino ps: if your not being tagged, check your settings

this is kinda a filler chapter to show how the jjk men are reacting before the real drama happens. im kinda stuck between a few different options for ch. five, so peer pressure me into what you guys want !!

part one, part two, part three, part four

taglist: @higuchislut @entr4p3 @waterfal-ling @yourname-exee @kuro-chi69 @ourfinalisation @erishishigami @your-favorite-god @queenmimis @b0nez9 @mikorinstan @spookypeacesandwich @boyimjustaloserforyourlove @ventila98 @viatorem-maris @reivunzu @softobvvillion @blurpleuni-squid @hellv1ra @shesabeeler @tatsuomii @mortallyshadysoul @animereaderinsertwriter @v1x3n @satoruswifeyyyy @indiewritesxoxo @justbelljust @emi311 @rosieandthethorns @r0ckst4rjk @rawwrrgal @linaaeatsfamilies

15. waka's girl

★ pairings: plug!wakasa imaushi x f!reader

★ synopsis: the one where you have the hots for your dealer, and Wakasa is always eager to please a customer. (don't let your bf stop you from finding ur hubby)

★ content warning: smut, angst, lotta porn w a lotta plot, car sex, dealer wakasa, cheating, oral sex, sneaky link, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, sex while high, consensual drug use, mentions of abuse, unprotected sex, smut in this chap... going out w a bang...

★ a/n: I never thought id be writing this... omg... but after almost a year, we are finally at the end of party monster!!!! I feel so emotional writing this up. I don't wanna spend too much time yapping, so I'll finish this a/n at the end teehee... but I spent sm time on this chapter so I hope u all like it!! enjoy the final installment of my fave ff ive ever written!

★ w.c.; 7.4k

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THE FEELING OF WETNESS on your skin roused you from your slumber. Groggily, you glanced up at the ceiling. It was higher than you remembered, a little grander. In fact, the bed you woke up in didn’t seem to have been yours at all. It was a hell of a lot bigger, and it had wine red sheets laid over it.

There was a black cat on top of your chest. He was a lightweight thing, small paws pressing into your skin while he peered down at you curiously. His eyes were yellow, almost unreal. The cat hopped off of you.

You glanced down at your arm, the one that was crossed over your stomach. There was a wet patch on the skin there, like the feline fellow had licked you.

He had a cat?

There was a body next to you, a warmth – and you felt yourself breathe a sigh of relief. So it wasn’t a dream.

Slowly, you rolled over. Wakasa was sleeping peacefully next to you, golden brown lashes fanning over his rose-dusted cheeks, lips parted ever-so-slightly. His hair was down and slightly wavy, golden rays cascading over the red satin pillowcase like a halo around his face.

You felt your heart jump at the sight.

You reached out for him, pulling the stray hairs away from his nose and his mouth. He stirred, but only slightly, easing back into a deep sleep while you traced your finger over the slopes and valleys of his pretty face.

The black cat crawled into the gap between the two of you. He sniffed at Waka’s hair – who scrunched his nose up in his sleep. Finally, he turned around, letting his silky black tail glide over Waka’s nose as he settled down into the bed between you.

Waka woke up a moment later, tired eyes blinking slowly while he appeared to be remembering yesterday’s events – just as you had. A hundred million memories were trapped within the confines of his lavender hues, blinking at you like you had just been spat out from the heavens.

“G’mornin’,” He grumbled, the faintest grin flitting over his lips despite his apparent distaste for early mornings.

“Mornin’, Waka,” His name rolled off your tongue like butter. It felt natural. 

He folded the sheets down away from his face, stretching. 

“So…” You began, trailing off. There was an elephant in the room. “Last night…”

Wakasa chuckled. “Not g’nna tell me you regret it again, are ‘ya?”

“No, just that I meant it,” You sighed. It felt nice to admit that to him after all this time. “The part about lovin’ you. I meant it.”

He sighed, laying his head back on the pillow and smiling at the ceiling – you think. “Good,” he replied. “I meant it, too.”

And you felt the worries melt away. Felt your eyes crease as you leaned in closer to him, brushing your lips against his in a tender kiss. Then another. He was intoxicating. It made your head spin with bliss.

You pulled away when you felt him deepen the kiss. “Nooo,” You whined. “I have morning breath.”

Waka gripped your chin, deepening the kiss anyway – a borderline nasty mix of your morning breath and his, but you didn’t even care. Your hands found their way to his shoulders instinctively.

When he broke away, that grin was still on his face.

“We still on f’tonight?” He asked.

You glanced down at your surprisingly un-naked body. You were wearing one of his tee shirts.

“Yeah,” You said after a brief pause. “I should probably go home and get into some fresh clothes.”

Waka pouted. “You’re leavin’ me?”

“You’re literally gonna see me in, like, six hours,” You retorted, sliding out of bed with a great deal of effort. Your back was completely shot.

You really ought to remember you were going on 30.

When you turned around, he was still pouting. It was a little funny, actually. Here he was, a grown ass man, pouting while you threatened to leave the warm confines of his bed. Oddly domestic, but not entirely undesirable. 

You realized you could probably get used to this.

“I’ll be countin’ the seconds,'' he hummed, finally dropping his faux-angry facade in favor of snuggling into the wine-colored sheets. His cat hopped up over his legs, crawling over to him and curling up against his bare chest. 

With a faint smile, Waka petted his hands over the cat’s fur. He looked up at you, offering, “Matter of fact, can I take you home?”

You thought for a moment, briefly remembering that you really didn’t have another way home. Waka had been your form of transportation last night.

You shrugged, “Alright.”

Wakasa grinned like a child on christmas morning, hopping out of bed. He jogged over to you – still remarkably shirtless, though he had the decency to have put a new pair of boxers on.

You poked a playful finger into his chest, warning him, “No funny business, you hear? You’re gonna drop me off out front. You’re not coming inside.”

“I can do that,” he chuckled rather boyishly, pressing a kiss to your lips.

“Waka,” You reiterated sternly. “I mean it. You’re not coming inside. Say it, say ‘I’m not coming insi–’”

“I’m not coming inside,” he sped out. Reaching into a drawer in the bedside table, he pulled out a shirt. “Now let’s go.”

There was some odd feeling you couldn’t shake as you gazed at your reflection in your pocket mirror. You looked… good. Better than you had in ages, actually.

Your eyebags had been covered up – thanks to some trusty concealer and a vision. Your lips were painted a deep shade of red, the same color Takeomi had always told you he hated. The same could be said about your lashes, which were done up with black mascara and curled to perfection. The slightest hint of red dusted your cheeks. 

You looked good.

Snapping the handheld mirror shut, you sighed. You glanced up at the wooden door in front of you. There was a wooden plaque to your left, one that was faintly illuminated by a warm light. It read; ARAGAWA.

You smoothed your hands over your black evening dress. 

You were here. You were actually here.

When you opened the oak door, you were greeted by a man with a warm smile. Immediately, you caught a whiff of something distinctly expensive – perfume, steak, wine. He was wearing a well-sculpted black suit. “Good evening, Miss, Welcome to Aragawa. Do you have a reservation?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, I think…” You bit the inside of your lip. “I’m not sure what name he put it under, though. Imaushi Wakasa?”

“Miss [L/N], my apologies,” The man’s expression changed, as if the grand reveal of your reservation had caused him to warm up instantaneously. He stepped out from behind the table, gesturing to the small, carpeted set of stairs which led into the dining room. “Right this way, please. Emi will escort you to your table.”

You nodded politely, mustering an awkward smile. You stepped back, making your way down the aforementioned steps. 

There was a woman waiting for you off to the side. She had a short, brown bob and a cute button nose. The neckline of the black dress she wore plunged below her breasts. Against your better judgment, you felt your eyes wander.

She bowed in greeting when she saw you, “Good evening. Please follow me.”

You fiddled with the hem of your skirt, smiling warmly as she led you further into the dining room. The place looked expensive. There was red carpet all over the floors, amber and gold art all over the walls, and lantern lights over every table. There was a bar at the side of the room. She led you past it. 

The hostess stopped in front of a wooden stairway – one that led up. She turned to you and gestured to the stairs. “Right up these stairs, miss.”

“Thank you,” You bowed ever-so-slightly.

Somehow, you felt out of place at a restaurant like this.

As you made your way up the stairs, you felt your heart begin to race. 

The corridor you came into was dimly lit. There were two private dining rooms, one on your right and one on your left. You turned your head both ways, searching for a sign of your date. When you looked to your left for the second time, you saw him.

He was sitting at a circular table, a menu propped up in his hands. He looked so handsome that you felt your fucking heart do a somersault. 

The room was small, but it looked bougie. There was a golden Chandelier above the table. Behind the table, a large wooden shelf displayed bottles of red wine with expensive names – Sauvignon, Merlot, and so many more. A tasteful painting hung next to a set of double doors, behind which you could only assume lie the kitchen.

The wine-colored napkins were folded neatly on the table, along with a set of silverware, a fancy-looking wine glass, and an empty water glass.

You sauntered into the private dining room with your head down and your hands clasped around your clutch purse. Wakasa noticed you the moment you arrived, pretty eyes twinkling beneath the warm candle light as they flitted up to you. Immediately, his resting bitch face melted into a familiar grin.

“Long time no see, princess,” He greeted you. Before you could sit down, he stood up – and, shit, if your heart wasn’t racing before, it was now. 

He was dressed to the nines tonight, something uncharacteristically nice. It should have been illegal for a white suit jacket to fit someone’s body like that, tailored curves hugging the slopes of his waist and shoulders. He wore a black dress shirt beneath – first few buttons undone, just the way you knew he normally liked to wear his shirts. The matching slack hugged his hips and fell loosely over his legs. He had a gold chain around his neck, one that glimmered beneath the romantic lighting.

And his hair – fuck – his hair was done back into a bun. A single intentional strip of hair was left out to frame his handsome face. His eyes, his lips, his cheekbones, his chiseled jaw… he was perfect.

“That dress is perfect on you,” Waka took your hand with a gentle firmness, raising it to his lips and pressing a chaste kiss to the top of it. “You look stunnin’ tonight, baby.”

He stepped around you, pulling your chair out from beneath the table. 

 “Thanks. Not too shabby, yourself,” You felt your face flush. With a timid smile, you replied sarcastically, “You’re all dressed up tonight. What’s the occasion?”

“Nothin’. Just a date with the most beautiful woman in the world,” he answered. “Sit down. I just ordered us an appetizer.”

What a schmoozer, You rolled your eyes. Still, you couldn’t help but feel a little flustered by his comment. He always knew what to say to get you going.

You took a seat, smoothing your hands over your dress, setting your clutch on the table.

Wakasa walked around the table to sit in front of you. You noticed his glass of water was half full. He must have been waiting for me.

“Sorry if I kept you waiting,” You hummed quietly, tucking your hair behind your ear and reaching for the menu. “My makeup took a lot longer than I thought it would.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, Love,” He dismissed your concerns with a wave of his hand. His eyes drank you in almost hungrily. “You look good.”

Love. You felt your cheeks warm at the nickname. It took every ounce of restraint you had to not hop the table and kiss him right then and there.

You returned your gaze to the menu in your hands. The pages were lined with fancy sounding steaks and obnoxiously high prices. You winced, though your gaze trailed over the options with a sense of yearning. Everything here looks so good.

“D’you like red wine?” He asked you suddenly. He was watching you with an earnest expression on his face, chin perched on his palm. 

With a quiet hum, you nodded. “It’s a rare treat for me. Why?”

“I ordered the house wine. I heard it’s good,” He mused quietly. His eyes lingered on your neck, where you knew a dainty gold necklace was fastened. 

And he smiled at you. 

“Takeomi never took me out to dinner,” You blurted out nervously.

Great. Let’s talk about my ex on the first date.

Wakasa didn’t seem to mind it, though you took note of the way his lip twitched when you said his name. 

“His loss,” Was all he said, licking his lips. He looked like he was going to say something else, like there was another sassy remark on the tip of his tongue, but he was interrupted by the sound of double doors opening. He glanced behind you.

When you turned around, you saw another pretty, young waitress holding a bottle of wine and a vase of… flowers. There were two more men behind her, holding two more — albeit much larger — floral arrangements.

You knitted your brows with a quiet interest. The vase she set down was a burst of color amidst the intimate ambiance. It looked like a spring arrangement — colorful lilies, dahlias, and all sorts of other flowers you didn’t know the name of.

“How pretty,” you mused quietly, raking your eyes over the vase the restaurant had so generously provided. The two larger vases were placed on either side of the table — making it so that you and Waka were framed by the pretty petals like something out of a movie.

How romantic.

The waitress popped the cork off of the wine bottle. She grabbed your empty wine glass by the stem — then, with practiced ease, she poured your wine. 

“Thank you,” You nodded at the girl. You took the glass up in your hand, swishing the crimson liquid around until it sloshed around the bottom. “For everything— the flowers are nice, too.”

“I knew you would like them,” Wakasa remarked. Sitting back in his seat, he allowed the woman to pour him a glass.

She set the bottle on the table. Then, with a curt bow, she quietly excused herself.

You raised a brow at him. “You picked these?”

Wakasa mirrored your action from earlier, giving the deep-colored liquid a few swishes. “‘Course, princess,” He answered. “They’re yours.”

With wide eyes, you glanced over at one of the bigger vases. “All of this is… for me?” You asked.

“All for you, baby,” He replied.

You looked back at him with even wider eyes. You feared that if he made one more outlandish statement, they would pop right out of their sockets. “They look so expensive, Waka, I— …I don’t even know how we’re gonna get these out of here!”

“I’ll have one of my guys bring them to your house,” Waka rolled the stem of his glass between his thumb and his index finger. His lavender hues flicked up to your painted red lips. “I was gonna have ‘em sent there in the first place but, y’know… would’a ruined the surprise.”

You spared one more glance at one of the large bouquets. It was huge — weeping stems and bright flowers spilling out over the edge and towering at least two feet tall.

“Waka, this is too much…” You licked your lips, looking back at him. You almost wished you hadn’t. Fuck, it should be illegal for blondes to look that good. “I can’t accept this— I can’t repay you for-“

“You’re not repaying me for anything, Mama,” He hummed. That devilish grin of his was gonna be the death of you. “I told you I could treat you better than that bum you were fuckin’ with before. I plan on makin’ good on that promise.”

“But—“

“Let me spoil you, princess,” He added, instantaneously shutting down any argument that had formed in the back of your mind. “Can’t treat you good unless you let me, yeah?”

You sat back with a pout, though it melted into a shy grin. You felt the blush creeping in at his words — again, it took a great deal of restraint to keep from kissing him right then and there. “M’kay… thank you, Waka.”

“Anythin’ for you, Mama,” He smiled back. He reached over the table with his spare hand, taking your fingers into his grasp reassuringly. 

“Now I don’t want you to worry your pretty little head about money again, okay?” He warned you rather sternly, though you could tell there was a grain of humor behind it. “You know that’s not an issue for me, and even if it was… that’s for me to worry ‘bout. All you gotta do is sit there and look pretty with whatever I buy you.”

A horde of angry butterflies paraded through your stomach, your chest, leaving a trail of red blush over your face. You had to avert your gaze, pressing your thighs together beneath the table. 

“Okay…” You murmured timidly, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Thank you, Waka.”

Woah… so crazy how you were dripping wet, all of a sudden.

He released your hand just as the waitress returned. The two of you fell back into a comfortable silence — you basked in the warmth in your cheeks, your neck, your whole body.

“Are you two ready to order?” She asked.

You had completely forgotten about the menu. Quickly, you flipped it open, scanning the page for something that looked interesting. 

“I think we’re ready,” Wakasa said. He adjusted the cuffs of his jacket. With a warm smile, he asked you, “Whad’ya gonna have, my love?”

You felt the tips of your ears burn at the nickname. 

Fuck. You were going to combust.

“I’ll take the Sanda Beefsteak meal,” You told her. “Could I have that cooked medium well?” You asked.

The waitress nodded. Then, she turned to Wakasa with the same polite smile she had greeted you with. “And you, sir?”

“I’ll have the same,” He rattled off. Gently, he pulled the menu from your grasp, stacking it over his and handing it off to the girl. “Thank you,” he said.

You were melting into your seat. There was something about a man who was nice to food service workers that was just….

“We’re on a date right now,” You blurted out rather awkwardly, as if you were still attempting to process it – nevermind the flowers and the dinner and… well, everything else. 

He turned to face you with an expression which could only be described as lovestruck, half lidded eyes settling over your painted lips before he answered, “We are.”

He reached for his glass again, this time holding it towards you. “Wanna make a toast?”

You reached for your own, rolling it between your pinched fingers with a pensive hum. You thought for a moment, then you giggled, “I can’t think of anything.”

Waka pouted playfully, “I’m right here.”

“Okay, okay,” You laughed. You held your glass up to the sky, translucent rim glimmering beneath the candlelight. “To the beginning of something beautiful… and… and the end of something terrible.”

He smiled, then he laughed – the melody made your heart skip a beat. “Movin’ a bit fast, ain’t we?” He asked. “Weren’t we friends, like, two days ago?”

You shrugged nonchalantly. What do I have to lose? “Says the one who likes to say “I love you” during sex.”

 “Who said it back?” he mused, holding his own serving of wine towards you. He leaned over the table, eyes darkening, “You loved all of me last night, ain’t you, pretty thing?”

“I can drink to that,” You giggled. 

The glasses clinked against one another and it was as if you had finally stepped into a new chapter – with him by your side. As long as you had that, you felt everything else would fall into place.

As long as you had him.

Dinner was a joyful blur. As the night unfolded, the two of you reveled in one other's company, savoring every moment. Laughter intertwined with the aroma of exquisite dishes. Time seemed to slip away as you enjoyed the many various culinary delights. It was perfect, him, the food… all of it.

Dessert had been brought out thirty minutes ago, on a cart adorned with an array of rich, sweet treats. At Waka’s request, the two of you had sampled just about everything. You indulged in the rare chance to taste such decadent flavors rather shamelessly.

You had eaten a few tarts, a piece of some chocolate cake… some other desserts, too, but you had far since lost track. 

You leaned back in your chair, shamelessly holding your stomach, a satisfied smile playing on your lips. “I’ve never felt so full in my life,” You confessed. Though you knew you looked tired, you were genuine in your next words, “Thank you, Waka. I mean it.”

Wakasa, with his shin perched on his hand, gazed at her lovingly. His pretty face was flushed with the faintest hue of red, as much of a testament to your wine tasting experience as the rosy stain on his lips was. After three or four glasses (maybe more), his eyes were droopy, half lidded, and shamelessly gazing into yours. He looked like he, too, had put in a great amount of effort to keep his hands off of you all night.

This very well may have been the longest the two of you had ever gone alone together in a room without kissing one another.

“‘Course, baby,” He said. His voice seemed to have dropped a pitch during the evening, suddenly rather heavy with desire. “I’m glad you enjoyed.”

Ignoring the warmth of your own reckless drinking habit, you pointed out the nearly untouched brown cake on his plate. “You barely touched your dessert.”

“‘M stuffed, baby,” Waka sighed, leaning back. “Plus, I gotta cut down on the sweets. I’m putin’ on weight.”

You knitted your brows, pouting at his admission of insecurity. You didn’t doubt that there was a lot of maintenance involved in achieving a body like his. Still, you didn’t like the thought of him feeling bad about himself. 

“Why? You look perfect!” You tried to reassure him. The moment he opened his mouth to retort, you held up a finger, effectively silencing him. Him, the most dangerous man in Tokyo, if not all of Japan. “And don’t start callin’ me a liar,” You added, waving your finger around. “I think I got a good view last night. Though I could always take another look, just to make sure.”

I just said that out loud. You froze immediately, face flushed at your own admission. The moment you saw his expression shift, you regretted your choice of words.

He peered up at you through his pretty blonde lashes. “Don’t start,” he cautioned, a playful smirk on his devilishly handsome face. 

Again, his effect on you was instantaneous. You felt yourself grow hot beneath the layers of pretty clothes and makeup you were wearing – hot to your core.

So, being the little shit that you were, you played into it. 

“Start what?” You pouted, feigning innocence. 

“Somethin’ you won’t finish,” He retorted. His eyes were dark with desire, gaze sharp.

I want him to fuck me right here, you thought. Not long after that, a brilliant idea crossed your mind.

Slowly, you kicked off your heel. You searched for the toe of his shoe, sliding your foot up his calf.  

“Who says I won’t finish it?” You teased, folding your hands together in front of your lips. Your foot brushed over his knee, his thigh.

He hummed in response. “Don’t– don’t play with me,” He stuttered – actually stuttered – when you put your foot over his crotch. Immediately, you felt him twitch beneath your fleeting touch. His eyes were on you, weighted with lust. “I’ll bend you over this table in front’a everybody.”

“That just won’t do,” You feigned surprise, widening your eyes. Your tone was condescending, exaggerating every syllable that left your lips. “Stop misbehaving. This is a classy establishment.”

He leaned over the table ever-so-slightly. “You gonna make me?”

The young waitress returned at the perfect time, holding a checkbook in hand. She set the sleek black book upon the table, bowing slightly as she did so. 

“Your card, sir,” She spoke politely. Then, she turned to you, doing the same respectful bow. “Thank you for dining with us tonight. I hope you have a wonderful rest of your evening.”

Without so much as another word, she was gone. 

You hadn’t stopped your ministrations once in her presence, hoping the tablecloth had done a good enough job at concealing the way you were rubbing him through his slacks. He was hot and hard underneath your sole.

It’s so easy to get him riled up, you noted with the faintest smirk upon your lips.

“Say,” He remarked, flipping the checkbook open and clicking the pen against the table. Without looking at you, he scribbled down a few numbers – the tip, you assumed, because it looked steep. When he was done, he took his black card and closed the book, returning his gaze to you. “How do you feel about dessert?”

Speaking in code now, are we?

“I think…” You put a little more weight onto your foot, dropping your voice to a murmur. “I think you should bring the car ‘round front,” You leaned in. You were all but whispering into his ear by that point. “And get us the hell out of here.”

He stifled a groan. “Should I?” He grinned.

“You should,” You nodded, licking your lips. When you felt you had gotten your point across, you let your foot touch the ground, slipping effortlessly back into your shoe. “I think I wanna take my dessert to-go.”

Wakasa, caught up in the spontaneity of the moment, stood up so quickly that his chair scraped unceremoniously against the floor. His enthusiasm was palpable. “We can beat the traffic if we leave now,” he suggested with a smile – one that you knew was a disguise for his lust-ridden expression. “Like, right now.”

He dusted his hands off on his coat, walking around the round table.

“Waka, what traffic? It’s 10 PM–” You began, but your witty retort was cut short as he pulled you up by your arm. 

He had all but dragged you out of the restaurant. 

Wakasa had to have been doing at least 30 over the speed limit the whole way home. As he maneuvered through the streets with an unusual speed for the hour, the cityscape blurred into streaks of light. The rumbling of the engine was loud, even more so from where you were seated between his legs. He had his slacks unzipped just enough for you to get your mouth around him. With one hand on the wheel, he gripped a fistful of your hair in the other. 

You went at it like you were made for it. Up and down, up and down, fitting him all the way in until the head of his cock bumped the back of your throat. 

You were sucking and slurping on him so lewdly that it caught you by surprise. 

"Mmm, baby," he whined, glancing down with a playful smirk. "Couldn't wait 'til we got home, hm?" Gently, he pulled your hair out of your face, tucking it neatly behind your ears. Then, immediately undoing his own work, he twisted your hair around his fist and fucked your mouth.

You made a noise in response, though it was broken up by the nasty, dirty sound you made every time you gagged on his dick. You peered up at him through half-lidded eyes, through long, wispy lashes, leaving a trail of saliva running down his thighs, strings of spit trailing down his cock.

He gripped your hair a little tighter. “Mmh,” he groaned, “Shi-it.”

And you just sat back and let him use you. You knew it was wrong, you knew it was fucking filthy and deplorable. You didn’t care. You loved it.

With a shudder and a moan, he pushed your head down a little further. You gagged on it again, swallowing him down, tightening your throat around him like you were made to suck his dick. 

The car swerved to the right. You felt your stomach drop. One wrong move and we could crash.

His focus shifted rapidly between the road and the dangerous display of affection unfolding beneath the dim glow of the dashboard.

He pulled you up by the roots of your hair, and you took the cue to slurp on his leaky tip. You wrapped your hands around what you couldn’t fit in your mouth, stroking, swirling, slurping – you felt like his personal whore. 

The car shifted rather suddenly. You lurched to the side. Before you could remind him to keep his eyes on the road, he shoved your head down, forcing you to take him to the hilt – until your nose was pressed up against his navel, until you gagged so hard on him that your throat made a vile ‘gluck’ sound.

Only a moment later, the car began to slow down. You assumed the two of you were approaching a red light. What you hadn’t expected, however, was for the car to glide over the indentations that marked the beginning of the shoulder.

Then the car stopped.

You pulled off of him, furrowing your brows, licking your swollen lips. You struggled to catch your breath, gasping out, “Waka… Where… What happened?”

He said nothing but, instead, put the car in park. He put his chair back. Then, without so much as a kind warning, he grabbed you by the hair, pulling you up into his lap.

Immediately, he searched for your lips – pressing his against yours in a passionate, intense dance of teeth and tongue. You felt exposed like this; out in the open with nothing but some tinted windows and a few dim street lights to conceal what the two of you were doing – but not entirely opposed to it. The thought of being caught like this thrilled you.

It was rushed, it was messy, it was hot – so hot. You felt yourself burning up beneath his touch. 

 He smacked your ass, grunting, “Backseat, baby.”

You didn’t have to be told twice. Quickly, you climbed over him, messily stumbling over the center console and sliding into the backseat. He zipped himself up, but only for a moment, quickly throwing the door open and sliding into the backseat with you.

"You look so good t’nite," His eyes dropped to your mouth, hungry and feral. "Can’t wait any longer." 

Then he pressed his lips to yours, and all of the air left your lungs. He slid his tongue against your lip, and you began to get lost in the kiss rather quickly, hands sliding up his shoulders, his neck, his chest. You straddled his waist, not even caring that the fabric of your skirt had ridden up to your waist, revealing your stark lack of underwear beneath your choice of attire. 

Not that you were planning on getting lucky, of course. You know… it just… happened to work out that way.

His hand had wrapped itself around your neck when the two of you disconnected – he was being uncharacteristically rough tonight, but you didn’t have any opposition to it. Waka pressed his forehead against yours, lips hovering inches away, breath fanning over your lips.

“You’re drippin’ on me, baby,” He panted. When you looked down, you noticed that you were, in fact, dripping – having left a wet spot on his white slacks. He laughed against your lips, slightly winded, “G’nna make me fuck you on the highway. You want that?”

Yes. You wanted him. Right now, right here in the back of his expensive car.

You nodded. 

“You got so wet from suckin’ me off,” He let out an airy chuckle, tired eyes peering right into the depths of your soul. Slowly, teasingly, he reached for your cunt. “No panties either, hmm? Think I’d slip right into ‘ya. Wanna try it?”

"Ngh…" You mewled. His hand around your throat was making you dizzy with desire. Still, licking your lips, you found the strength to nod.

"Dirty girl," he seethed. His thumb pressed deeper into your neck, mouth ghosting over yours. Unable to resist anymore, you rolled your hips down again… and again. He smirked against your lips, “You gonna take all of it?”

You were too shy to reply. Instead, you buried your nose in his neck, pressing hot kisses to his warm skin. The taste of his cologne lingered on your tongue. He released your neck, going for the back of your head next – taking a fistful of your hair again and pulling it taut.

You gasped, letting him pull your head back.

“I asked you a question, Mama,” He repeated himself. His tone was low, dangerous… threatening. “You gonna take it all f’me?”

“Mhm,” You whimpered, feeling him replace his large hand around your neck.

He pressed forward for another kiss, although this time there was something more passionate about it. His tongue swiftly entered your mouth, and with it came the lingering taste of chocolate cake. You welcomed it, bringing your hands up to the back of his head. His grip on your neck tightened as he tilted your head to get a better angle into your mouth. The restriction of your airway filled your mind with a blissful haze.

You wrapped your arms around him, bringing him closer, closer. His kisses were making you weak, dizzy with pleasure. Well, that and the fact that his grip on your trachea was unrelenting. When his fingers stopped digging into your skin, the air came rushing back to you. 

You gasped again, and then one more time as he lifted you off of his lap.

“That’s right,” He growled. He fiddled with the zipper of his pants, sliding them back down, past his hips. Thanks to you, he didn’t have any boxers to push aside – or any need for lubricant, for that matter.

You tried your best to feel shame at the prospect of being on the side of the literal highway where anyone could see you. (Tinted windows. Something you had forgotten about.) But there was little room for doubt when he positioned his tip at your entrance and then promptly slid into you.

“Fuck!” You cried out, fingernails digging into his pale shoulders.

"You got it, baby," He growled against your lips. This was wrong. Very wrong. But the moment his tip bumped your cervix, you threw your morals out the window.

You whined, moving your hips against his. He was right there, right where he needed to be, and the blissful slide of his dick against your wet walls made your vision go white at the edges.

"No panties under that dress – achin’ to be fucked right where everyone can see you. So filthy, hm?” He immediately picked up the pace, gripping your hips to lift and slam you down on his cock. The quiet groan of 'shit' that left his lips when your hips began to meet him halfway was anything but holy. "My dirty girl."

"I'm not--" Your sentence broke off into a long, drawn out moan as he slid back inside of you. "Fu-uck. Harder!”

"Harder, baby?" He teased before swiftly pulling out of you. He brought your skirt up higher around your waist. You felt exposed and -- quite frankly -- a little nervous. Just past the rearview window, you could see the cars flying by. Then you looked back at him, and you melted a bit.

He eyed you up almost animalistically. If you didn't know any better, you would say he looked like he wanted to fucking eat you up. 

He thrust his hips up sharply, snapping against your ass – pulling you down harshly in the same motion. He sheathed himself entirely in your warmth in a way that had you screaming out for him.

You cried out, feeling the table jolt with the force of his sudden thrust.

"Waka, baby!" You gasped out. Your nerves burned with the sudden sensation of him bottoming out. You struggled to accommodate his girth under such short notice, but, fuck, it felt good. 

He spared no time with picking up a fast pace, hips snapping forcefully against your ass. You had no time to adjust to him, no. Instead, apparently, Wakasa had made it his mission to fuck you senseless.

"I love you," he moaned. It was like music to your fucking ears. "Fuck, I love you."

With the slick of your arousal already dripping down your thighs, there was little need for any excess lubricant. His hand tangled itself in your hair. The other was looped firmly around your waist. 

"Be my girl," He purred, following your line of sight to the body-length mirror in the living room. You could just barely make out the devious expression sitting firmly on his usually emotionless features. He dropped down to grip your neck, pulling the upper half of your body up while keeping your lower half anchored to the table. "Please– be my girl, baby."

Then, if it were even possible, his thrusts became more forceful. The car jumped in tandem. 

He bottomed out inside of you once more. At this angle, he found your sweet spot with every single thrust. His brutal speed was unrelenting. Eyes unfocused, your nails scratched at his shoulders, at his leather interior, searching desperately for something to grab onto while he piledrove you into oblivion.

“Say yes," he whimpered weakly. He attacked the side of your neck, teeth and lips tugging harshly on the sensitive skin. You clenched around him. Your reaction caused him to moan loudly against your neck. “Please, fuck, be my girl.”

"Yes!" you managed to get out. “I’m your girl –”

You honestly felt bad for whoever was driving by with their windows down at this point, because your moans had become a lot more similar to screams in lieu of recent events (recent events, of course, being Wakasa’s goal of ruining your chances of walking tomorrow).

He let out a pleased groan at your willingness to let him abuse the everloving shit out of your pussy. "My girl," he hummed. "My girl, only mine– fuck– I love you."

You were his girl. You had always been his girl, right from the start.

His hips stuttered. "Say it back," he growled. 

You couldn't take it anymore. The pleasure was far too much to bear. It was making your mind go blank. 

You bit back a moan, feeling your legs begin to tremble again with the weight of your impending release. You were close, too close to resist him. You raked your eyes up his shirtless form in the mirror, watching as his mouth parted to release a few shaky breaths. His legs shook against the back of your own. The muscles in his abdomen tensed up.

Guess I'm not the only one getting close to losing it.

"Yes! Yes!" You gasped out as he landed another smack on your thigh. "I’m your girl, fuck– yes!" His eyes met yours in a lustful daze. “Love you, Waka–”

His.

You had always been that, hadn't you? You'd simply been too blind to see it.

"Mine," He growled back in response. "No one else's."

You were getting closer now. The coil in your stomach was pulled as tight as it could go. "Mmh- yours! P-Please!"

You hadn’t cum this fast in… well, actually, maybe not. He seemed to have that effect on you.

"Cummin’" Waka shuddered. “Cummin’, baby, shit–”

The coil snapped, and your hips jolted rhythmically against him. You felt your walls clench around his dick, a sensation that made him lurch forward and reach his own orgasm.

"Fuck, baby, ‘m--" You cried out. This one hit you even harder than before, wave after wave of powerful pleasure shooting through you at the speed of light – back arching as he spilled into you.

He went for your lips again immediately after, kissing you softly while the two of you came down from your high. He kissed you breathlessly, passionately, like he would die if he stopped.

“You wanna come back to mine?” He asked. His forehead pressed against your own, his eyes glimmering with a slight hint of mischief. Above all else, though, they held promises of safety.“I can make us some dinner. I don’t want you walking home high at night, not in this neighborhood.”

“What a gentleman,” you mused. Sarcastically, of course, but not really.

“I can be whatever you want me to be tonight, dollface.” Wakasa grinned ear to ear, pressing another kiss to your sore lips. “Just say the word.”

You pulled away from him with a breathless laugh. “We did it in your backseat the first time we hooked up, too, didn’t we?”

“Mhm,” He hummed, melting back into the seat. 

His cum was still warm inside of you, spilling down his dick, your thighs, his lap. You kissed him again. “And now you’re my boyfriend.”

He laughed quietly, “Bad timing?”

“A bit,” You smiled. You pulled back, drinking in the sight of him like this – blond hair wild and messy, lips swollen and parted, face dusted with a rosy hue. His lilac irises were locked onto yours like you had just fallen out of the sky. Like he worshiped you.

Then you squealed, grinning ear to ear, “We’re boyfriend and girlfriend.”

“Boyfriend makes it sound like we’re highschool sweethearts, or somethin’,” He chuckled. He wiped the sweat away from his forehead with the back of his hand. Pressing a chaste kiss to the apple of your neck, he added, “You can tell all your friends that the White Leopard’s y’er man.”

“You’re my man,” You repeated. The grin on your face was bright enough to power an entire city.

He replied, “You’re my girl, yeah? Everyone’s g’nna know you’re Waka’s girl.”

You kissed his forehead. “Waka’s girl,” You hummed, snuggling into his chest. “That’s got a nice ring to it.”

a/n: aaaand we have a (surprisingly) happy ending!!! omg. it has been too long. party monster has been in the works for a little under a year now. I hope u dont mind the hiatus, I was putting off workin on this chapter because I didnt want this story to end lol.... it's been such a long road. im so grateful for every single one of u. but id like to give a special shout out to @xiedoll ... they were my first ever fan! ill never forget when u commented on my ao3, ur comments are what really inspired me to adapt this one shot into a fullfic! there are so many of you id also love to thank. @sin-and-punishment, you have been such an avid supporter! omg! so many names, I can't possibly tag them all. I actually do have a sequel plotted out for party monster, one which I may or may not publish. let me know!!! I'm gonna upload an epilogue after this, then I'm done with (book one of) party monster. thank you all for staying tuned in for my rare updates, and for being so active in the comment section. my heart goes out to each n every one of you. as always, leave your comments and thoughts below!!! let me know what you thought about the ending (for this book ;)) with love, Leo!!!

comments + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

I obviously do not own tr or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

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