Warnings: 18+, Adult Toph (ofc), a little rushed lmao
You stood Infront the mirror, various containers of pigmented paste lay around as you carefully perfected your face paint. Every swipe of the brush carried colour across your skin, every stoke brought you closer to the exhilarating image conjured by your creative mind.
"Are you doing your make-up again?"
She moved softer than most, quieter, more mindful. She was always quite difficult to hear coming, her steps light as she wandered up behind you, but you knew her well. The airy sounds of her became second nature, an instinct that tickled when she was near. You knew when she spoke with mockery, but not with any malice. Toph never understood your customs, but she tried to tolerate it. 'Make-up doesn't save your skin in a battle' she said. 'If I die, at least I will look good' you rebutted. Her face had grown sour in seconds; it had you giggling for hours.
"Would you like me to do yours?" You merely jested.
You knew how she felt about her appearance, or rather the non-necessity to alter it. For good reason you assume, but looking at the way her brows furrowed, eyelashes kissed her pale cheek and plump lips twisting up in refusal you couldn't help but think about how pretty she was, and how beautiful she would look with her face in your hands and your colours on her cheeks.
"I told you already I have no interest in your make-"
"And I already told you it's not make-up," You shut it down, standing up to face her. You stared right at the very embodiment of defiance and swiped your thumb across her lips, smearing it a bright red.
"It's just paint."
it was cute how fast she caved. Plopping backwards on the bed with an exasperated sigh and defeated expression. Before you could coo in excitement, she bended every opening of your space closed, trapping you both in darkness. "I don't want anyone to see me looking like a clown," she bite.
You'd be lying if you said that one didn't sting. You light the lanterns decorating your room and a few candles, irritation building in your chest and spreading to your fingertips. You had half the mind to kick her out, but you couldn't ignore the desire that stirred from its dormancy. You're rough as you force her to lay back on the sheets, she goes willingly, smirking as you straddled her hips, but it falters when you force her legs up from their bend and her feet off the ground.
"What are you..." You shush her, your hand gliding down her sternum to the bindings holding down her chest. She wore only her long, flared earth-bender pants low on her hips and white bandages tight around her chest, letting your eyes lick across pale, scared skin and well-defined twitching muscles. But you think it is not enough. You wiggle your fingers under the bandages, poised, like you had done it a million times. It slips away smoothly, revealing the damp skin of her breasts and brown resting nipples. You used the white cloth to tie her hands together above her head, she winces as you tie it a bit too tight. You can feel her slightly accelerated breath fanning your own chest, warmth spike against your skin. You can feel the unease radiating from every pore and the fast beating of her heart between your legs.
Patience renders your movements slow and tender. Taking the smaller of your brushes and dipping it into the vibrant ink, you call upon your ancestors to guide you in decorating the pretty canvas below you.
The first stroke against her skin had her flinching slightly, gasp willed to stop dead in her throat. Her milk eyes blinked light and fast, inevitably searching for you in the darkness. From nervousness, maybe. You both knew she couldn't see what you were doing. You took away her only virtue. She was accustomed to not seeing, instead she would have to smell the fragrance of the pigments, hear the hum under your breath, and she had to feel everything in volumes she never had to before.
You concentrated on your work, the image you had in your mind blooming across her skin. You were especially skilled in painting porcelain. You carved vines, and etched flowers across her body. Savoring the art, god you were so locked in. You hadn't noticed when your canvas had started trembling. Every fine brushstroke brought a tremor, like an earthquake cracking a ravine in the soft snow. Her squirming intensified as you swirled the brush around her nipple, a flower, the bud hardened under your teasing. You barley paid it any mind and moved the brush to paint across her stomach.
"I-I knew this was a bad idea.."
It took you awhile to realize she spoke, so soft, so uncertain, so not Toph. You stole a glance at her face, breath almost catching in your throat. somewhere along the painting of her sternum to the brush against her nipple transformed that expression of stubborn defiance into one of inappropriate, frustrated need. Her eyes were pinched shut, sweat rolling down her skin, cheeks so flushed it rivals the paint still smeared across her lips. You willed yourself to look away, and pressed down her stomach, forcing her torso back down. She jolted beneath you, a punched-out gasp left her as she leaned into your warm touch and away from the cold paint brush.
Gods know you would never finish if you kept looking at her.
---
It had to have been a few hours at least, you didn't really know how much time had passed, but you knew she was counting every moment.
At some point, you had grown tired of the ache in your joints and persistent throbbing between your legs. You lifted over her stomach, slinked your way around her body and between her legs, spreading them wide to accommodate you between them. You made sure to rest her legs around your waist, unwilling to give her back her sight. She whined. You ignored it.
Truth be told, you had finished minutes ago. "You look so pretty toph," You murmured. You just couldn't will yourself to look away now you've seen the full image, the brush now carries cold water across her skin. "I'm almost done."
She shivered beneath you, but she didn't dare complain. By now she knew better than to open her mouth. so, she let you have your way with her.
She let you paint across the entirety of her body, no skin left uncoloured.
She let you tease her; let you feign innocence as you fondled her breast, rolling the raised bud between your fingers.
She let you pull her pants down dangerously low to paint across her hip bones.
She let you hold her down to the ground, as she trembled against the cold ink, moaning when it came so close yet so far from the throbbing between her legs. She let you tease the fuck out of her with little complain and lots of whimpers.
"God, look at these lips." Your finger spread her drool across the plump flesh, almost wiping away the red. Your finger dips past her lips, pressing down on her tongue. Her eyes lashes flutter, blush long taking over the paint that dusts her cheeks. She trys to maintains eye contact as she bites down, rolling your appendage in between her teeth and then sucks, sliding her tongue around the indentations. You shiver above her, heat drawing near your core as lewd sounds escape the gaps in her lips, letting her coat your finger in her hot saliva.
"Such pretty pale skin," you commented, finger forced from her mouth despite a poorly swallowed whine. You guide her head up by her jaw, allowing yourself a self-satisfactory squeeze at her neck (earning yourself a gulp) before trailing your hand down her chest and grazing her bare breast. You couldn't care less about the smudged paint. Her skin was so pale, almost translucent, and so soft, She rivaled the smoothest of silk.
"You wanna feel?"
You made swift work of the binds, forcing her hand from around your biceps when they rush to hold you, and with her hand in yours cupped her breast. She shivered, mouth contorting into a open sneer as she readied to tell you off. before she could, you took her nipple between your fingers tugging with way too much force. Her face contorted in a hard to control grimace, you would think it unpleasant if not for the dampness that soaked through her pants.
What a beautiful cunt. You took both of your hands down between her legs and smuggle your hands down her pants. Your fingers practically slide across her puffy folds, you slap your finger on the mess before gathering the slick to ease your fingers to pillage her hot pussy. She clenched down like a vice, pulsing around the unexpected stretch, slick flowing down your palm. "Look how easily she gets wet, such a good girl."
You hadn't looked at her once, transfixed on the creature absolutely salivating for your attention. She lets out a whimper. You ignore it. You dug your fingers deeper, dragging hers with you, Curling against the sopping walls of her cunt and hard against the jolting indication of her special little spot. Your heart raged against your ribcage as you watch her grind down on your hand, even curling her own fingers to catch that pesky relief.
"I wish you could see yourself right now." You would be lying if you said you didn't take pleasure in the way she reckless rut onto your fingers. You ground her palm hard against her clit and watch as her hips lose its own rhythm and try to find yours, her pussy already throbbing in an earnest tempo. "A gorgeous clown you are." You whisper. Irritation circled back at your own words, and you find yourself leaning down to snag every twitch of her brow and bite on her lip, licking the drool that rolls down the corner of her lips and bring it back to her mouth with your tongue.
She almost chokes at the ferocity. Her tongue dances with yours as she groans and keens on your lips and grind her pussy into a puddle against your hand. You let her breathe with a sickening 'pop' of your lips, just in time to hear her breathless complaint as you slow down the siege of her cunt and pursuit of bliss.
"Wha..?" Her voice carried a shivering heat that had your own sex pulsing. "You have got to be kidding me."
"I want to hear you say it." You purred in her ear, nibbling it as you stroked her clit.
"Sa- what?" She breathed, shivering and curling against you.
"I'm so pretty," You poorlymimic her voice and chuckle as her face fights off pleasure to show her disgust. "Do it for me." Your voice sickening sweet against her ears.
'No frighing way.' She thought.
"I'm...so pretty" She muttered.
"C'mon baby, you can do better than that" The seriousness of your coo and the stillness of your hand had her swallowing back every rebuttal to part of lips and give up her last drop dignity.
"I-I have pretty long hair."
"a-and I have nice muscles
"And I like how small my nose is."
Her eyes drifted up as if looking at you through her lashes, water gathered on her milky iris. It so fucking cute.
"Yeah?" You bite back a smirk, teething at the flushed skin of her neck as you drag your hips against hers, bringing an unprecedented ache in her thighs. The movement has your fingers moving in and out, dragging your nails against her quivering walls and palms sliding down on her clit.
"Uh..mMhmm" Her moans stuck to your ears like a honey trap. "a-and you're right- my skin is soft."
"Did you think I would lie?" You fake concern, lingering against her thumping pulse, rubbing relentlessly against her g-spot. The way she went silent you would think she wasn't enjoying herself, but you were right there with her, and you know everything. The way her pulse seems to stutter against your lips, the way her legs contact against your waist and toes dig into your back, and If you listen close enough you can hear the way your name seems to be a plea stuck in her throat; but let's not forget the biggest indication of all, the loose wet mess between your legs.
"Cmon Toph, you want to cum, right?" You pull back from her bruised neck, completely transfixed with heat of your own coursing through your vital points, but mind still has enough of a shape to think and greed for more.
Rough sex with them. Your cock bullies its way in and out of their puffy hole, the surface you lean on creaks at your rough and quick movements but the claws at your back and desperate clenching around your dick force any rationality from your brain. It's rough and painful, hard surface scratching at the flesh of their back but their legs lock desperately behind your back, lips leaking praise, forcing you back into their soppy and already spoilt cunt.
"Fuck...Ye-Yeah, right here..."
"C'mon...ha...harder..!"
"That's it, That's a good fucking boy..."
They whined, voice stretched a thin mess. Muscles strain against you then relaxing in the next second. The slight burning from your teeth sinking into their soft flesh has them clenching around you before they're drawn towards your lips with a gravitational like pull. They kiss you like they've been starved, deep and savoury, teeth nipping at the flesh that surrounds them like a prisoner savoring their final meal. Your mouths fill with each other's blood. It tastes like pennies, off-putting to most but fuck if it doesn't a bullied moan from their throats, tongue darting out to lap up every smear. Licking the wounds as an apology or to coax out more.
It was so suffocating, the burst of blinding pleasure as you plunged into them. 'it hurts' their mind stutters out as their toes curl up against ur back, pleasure gripping their minds so hard they cant tell when their body is begging to be let go. They become pliant against you, skin hot, bruised and stained with a mix of their fluids. They can barely concentrate and their face twists with pain. You slow down, teasing them with degrading taunts and whispers, but they feel the love in every deep brush against their insides, and without meaning to they just take it. Whimpers bubbling behind their clenched lips and vision becomes unfocused as they threaten to roll back into their skull.
Theyre slow to come around, but quick to run their swollen lips. Their face a mean, fucked out flush, eyes hazy but glaring with such amazing defiance as they degrade you with your cock still up their twitching hole.
"...ah-why did you stop..?"
"F'uc-Fuuck...you're such an asshole..."
"I hate you so d-Ahhmm much...!"
They're smart, they're prideful. Slow to change their tone, manipulation that usual works. But you know better, and so do they. So they try to take matters into their own hand, forcing their body against the rough surface they're held against to bounce themselves up and down, legs digging into your back to force you in deeper. They kiss around your neck, your jaw, and when they're denied your lips, their attitude falters. You can see it in the way their expression grows teary, so distraught, so wronged. They can feel the heat in their gut dispense and gather around your cock, highlighting how good you feel inside them. How good you fuck them up and how much you put up with them. So they swallow back an exasperated sob and then beg for it.
"C'mon baby...Ah- didn't meant it..."
"Im- s'orry..."
"Oh god- I need it...please-!"
"please..- please..."
Their faces flush even deeper with embarrassment. They try close their eyes to escape the self-satisfaction on your face, but you grip their jaw and force them to maintain eye contact as you pull out fast and push back in harder. The slide is so smooth, so wet. Your cock slides in with a sickening sound, the wetness of it all leaves little friction to be had. You watch tears gather in their beautiful eyes, falling down their jittering chest and joining the slick mess between your legs.
They don't even understand how much they affect you. Their body bouncing with each thrust, enticing you more than any trap. You lean in closer, enough for their breath to warms your lips; you stare deep into each-other's eyes soaking in the waves of pleasure that passes through your expressions. Raspy tired moans drip from their throat like honey. You lick a long stride up their neck, tasting the salt off their skin as you pushed deeper inside them. Their eyes beg for a kiss. Deny them again. Keeping them wanting, until they're bursting at the seams and they don't know what they're begging for.
-> Rick Sanchez, Arthur Morgan, Gegory House, Kakashi Hatake, Toph Beifong, Lynoel Baratheon, Jaime Lannister, Askeladd, Semiu, Melissa Schemmnti, Solider Boy, Derek Hale, Carmen Berzatto, Jiraiya, Harvey Spector, Daemon Targaryen, Jinx, Tyler Durden, Maekar Targaryen, Joel Miller, Daryl Dixon, Cecil Stedman, Stan Pines, Your favorites.
As children you both loved sleepovers. you were always at each other's house, snuggled under the covers, sharing laughs, giggles and snot bubbles. Even as you grew older you two always found yourselves taking refuge in each other's homes. It was a thing share between only the two of you. Even now you find yourself wrapped in his sheets, hyper aware of the heat that radiates off him. You were about to learn that just because tradition doesn't end, doesn't mean they can't change.
-
You woke up gradually, sweating, breathing heavily and confused and way too aware of the breath on the back of your neck. You're sluggish, too slow to realized when he shuffles closer practically fusing to your back, his musk invading your nose, hot and suffocating. You try to shift away, your heart picking up speed and pounding against your fragile rib cage. 'A mistake' your brain conjures, searching for any excuse, anything that could distract you from the heat coursing through your veins and the solid body that stuck close to your skin. Over the years you'd spent together you had grown use to his presence but never like this.
This proximity forces you to feel everything, especially how much hotter he seems and just how much he starts to squirm. You feel the same pounding in his chest, its erratic and fearful the way its trying to jump out his chest. You stiffen as his hands grip your sides, lips trembling against your skin. A nightmare, you think by the way he whimpers and whines into your neck, dragging you impossible closer until you're slotted together like a jigsaw pupzzle, and hunching himself in you as if to hide.
You refuse to acknowledge it. Mind and will overpowering your traitorous body. You and Mark were friends, just friends. You played tag together as kids, played uno with each other's families, caught frogs in a ditch and ate dirt out each other's hands. You remember his gummy grin. For God's sake you knew him since he was a child. You could never think of him in this way, never, never, never. You didn't notice the way he grew taller, filling out his clothes in ways you could only imagine. You didnt notice the way his voice deepened, every call of your name sending shivers down your spine. You didn't notice how his gummy smile transformed into that shiny bashful grin, framed by those plump pink lips. You didn't notice. You couldn't notice. You didn't. You— could have sworn he moaned your name.
His heavy breath fans across your flushed skin, his heart pounding against you in the same rhythm, so in sync as if he's feeding on what you radiate. He squirms against your back like a worm, muscles tensing to grip your sides until pain fans across your waist, ripping at the last of your restraint. You're just about ready to turn around and wake him before you feel it— Something grinds against your ass, strong as steel and relentless. Only then you realize his whimpers and whines change into something more like a groan which then bleeds into gasps and moans as you find yourself rolling your ass into his arousal.
For someone so strong, he is painfully vulnerable in mind, responding so generously to your touch. "F-Fuck..." has you mindlessly shifting each other's positions, and settling right on top his throbbing arousal, putting in extra work to coax more sounds from his drool smeared lips.
Something in the back of your mind probes you to stop, begging for the last piece of dignity left alone. Instead, you find yourself reaching deeper, feeling at his twitching abdomen with trembling fingers, tugging at the loose waist band of his pants, and playing with boundaries that you should've never been near.
