𝙍𝙀𝙎𝙏𝙍𝙄𝘾𝙏𝙀𝘿.

[co11apsesins]

@incantat1ons, @sincantations: i am happy any day that i'm with you.

THE  MORNING  AFTER  they’d  reached  the  pinnacle  of  ecstasy,  vestiges  persisted  within  each  of  their  beings.  of  course  an  emotion  of  such  potency  would  last  throughout  the  night.  repose  merely  managed  to  subdue  it  a  touch.  now,  it  was  not  a  source  of  energy  for  impassioned  exertion,  but  rather,  a  gentle  spur  for  awakening.

his  eyes  had  opened  in  slits  to  a  hazy  vision.  blinking  in  succession  restored  some  clarity.  then,  he  saw  the  curtain  of  violet  before  him,  tresses  cascading  down  her  back.  his  mind  brought  context  to  the  sight  as  the  rest  of  his  senses  stirred.  he  felt  that  his  arms  were  wrapped  around  a  slender  form,  cocooned  by  his  broad,  muscular  one.  the  only  fabric  that  clothed  him  (and  her,  for  that  matter)  was  the  blanket.

reminded  of  exactly  why  they  were  here,  nanami’s  love  surged,  threatening  to  drown  him.  his  heart  assumed  a  faster  rhythm,  while  curved  lips  came  apart  to  aid  his  breathing.

he  lifted  up  and  leaned  forward  to  access  her  cheek,  his  mouth  hovering.  kisses  descended  slowly  and  landed  softly  on  the  swell  of  skin.

the  onslaught  continued  until  she  roused  with  a  desire  for  reciprocity.  craning  her  neck,  her  mouth  met  his,  and  they  shared  a  deep  kiss.  nanami  savored  her  sweetness.

after  they  depleted  each  other’s  lungs,  they  parted.  panting  in  unison  with  her,  mirroring  her  smile,  all  he  could  do  was  admire  utahime.  surprisingly,  despite  the  depths  of  his  sentimentality,  he  was  at  a  loss  for  words.  their  physical  expressions  thus  far  had  already  spoken  volumes.  yet,  she  managed  to  make  a  declaration: breathy  in  sound,  profound  in  meaning.

to  be  a constant reason for happiness  was  a  great  honor.  especially  for  her.  but  while  it  spread  warmth  in  his  chest,  it  also  twinged  therein.  the  fondness  lining  his  features  didn’t  cease,  but  it  faltered.  his  gaze  was  still  tender,  but  it  had  to  be  directed  elsewhere  for  a  moment.

though  inadvertently,  she  blemished  this  dreamy  scene.  he  badly  wanted  to  believe  her,  but  his  awareness  of  reality  was  why  he  couldn’t.  she  was  in  his  home,  his  bed,  his  embrace,  but  she  wasn’t  his.  openly,  somebody  else  claimed  her,  had  unfettered  access  to  her.  whereas they  had  to  be  very  specific  when  convening  in  order  to  maintain  secrecy  and  avoid  suspicion.  he  will  always  be  second  best.

guilt  was  ingrained  in  him.  in  these  moments,  it  came  in  a  strong  pang.  it’ll continue to  prevail  as  long  as  he  played  a  role  in  her  duplicity.  intimacy  only  put  it  in  stasis.

it  was  one  thing  to  recognize  wrongdoing,  it  was  another  to  rectify  it.  rectifying  it  here  meant  to  keep  away  from  her.  but… the  chemistry  was  just  as  palpable  as  it  was  years  ago  (or  perhaps,  even  more  so,  because  distance  makes  the  heart  grow  fonder).  and  at  that  point  in  the  past,  they  ended  up  a  cautionary  tale.  a  couple  that  once  held  promise,  ruined  by  extenuating  circumstances.  currently,  they  were  salvaging  whatever  possible  under  the  current  conditions.  it  wasn’t  ideal,  but  addictive  all  the  same. maybe someday  he’d  conjure  the  willpower  to  give  her  up.  let  her  go.  but  not  today.

making  eye  contact  again,  he  returned  his  attention  to  the  present.  every  private  second  with  her  was  precious.  he  had  to  enjoy  as  much  as  he  could  before  she’d  have  to  get  up  and  go.  there  was  no  telling  when  they’d  be  able  to  steal  some  time  to  themselves  again.

he exhaled a heartfelt whisper,  ❛  likewise.  ❜

[sincantations]

a state of bliss, body comfortable, sated. utahime is at her best, she thinks. soft aches inside are no matter. they serve as a molten memory of the love, the passion. years off and away pouring out of them in attempt to compensate for such lost time. her lips make soft contact with his shoulder, a kiss. tongue tracing the scabbing seams of slices left by her very fingernails. metal, sour on buds. eyes flicker up to his face, another kiss to his chin, ❛ promise? ❜

because while he is not a man of many words, utahime still seeks them. his reassurance. his love. his unwavering honestly. kento is of fresh air. she need him to breathe into her lungs, supply her with his truth. provide her with devotion. her heart is not a feeble organ in the slightest. sex is a grand display of loyalty and it may be an act she revels in, she cannot get off unless it matters. unless there is something real in every shared gasp, moan, clutch. being aroused is an easy feat when nanami is as attentive and forthcoming with his actions.

she shifts, slithering atop him as if the complete lack of skin to skin is unbearable. face tucks into his neck and a sprinkling of kisses follow. hands smooth up and down expanse of broad chest, fingers tinkering with the pebbled buds on his pecks. ❛ i love you. ❜ lips trail down, mouth encompassing a stiff peak and laving at it as her eyes remain trained on his face to gauge what makes his facial muscles twice and cheeks pinken. teeth the skim the nerves slightly as she pops off to return attention to the other, ❛ missed you so much. ❜

hips slide to and fro, folds caressing girth beneath her. she's moistening him easily, her own excitement seeping from her in sheer happiness of being so close. their intimacy is coveted. even though she is not his, her body and heart actively feel otherwise. nerves and muscles buzzing with the pavlov style eagerness for him. she scoots down, hips wiggling in the air and nuzzling the heavy sac of him between his legs.

animalistic in the way she inhales the musk and rolls the weight of them over eyelids and bridge of nose. she shivers, salivating as wet kisses are bestowed upon the flesh. she licks her wetness off his length, smiling happily in the act as it twitches against her tongue, ever swelling, ❛ can i i stay over again today? i'll be good. do anything you want. ❜

[sincantations]

[ whisper ] sender leans in and whispers exactly what they want to do to receiver in excruciating detail

they're in her classroom. he stopped by with lunch to share. his face sweet. hands polite. he greeted her with a smile and a hug that lasted a second too long for just coworkers. they eat at her desk, conversation bordering on casual much to her disliking but she's a taken woman now. her partner's touch feels akin to a first date's now. awkward. not entirely unwelcomed. brushed off easily. she can't come. she can't get turned on. nothing can set her alight unless it's kento. and he's here. eyes flickering between her face and the window. utahime wonders if he can't look at her. if he feels guilty for encroaching on claimed territory. it would not be a surprise. nanami is an honorable man. he is respectful and chivalrous. he has morals. far better ones than hers. it is what she admires about him. that stoic, strong willed character. she thinks that she wouldn't deserve him if they had worked out. he's too perfect. too well rounded. she was starved for approval and he was secure in himself.

iori should not be gazing at his lips as he discusses his yuji's progress and instead thinking of the way they moved against hers. she should not be looking at his hands, eyes skimming the veins and ridges of the skin and recalling the fingers in her hair, the way they were steel against her face as he guided her along his length. that was a memory shared a month prior. it has been only twelve days since those very digits were curling in her during a friendly outing. utahime hasn't been able to return to normal.

her focus snaps back to him, a soft smile gracing her features as she tries to appear composed. but kento is observant. he knows her tells. her poker faces are no match for the way he has memorized her. was it the straightening of her spine and the way her legs crossed? the way she rubs moist palms down the length of her trousers. he did once point out the way she'd pinch just under her knee to relax. iori opens her mouth to reply and before she knows it, he's got her chin and his mouth is hovering close.

the tips of ears are burning, a shaky exhale following. his words burn. her own self imposed gasoline lit aflame by his own desire. he wants her. he feels just as high strung as she does. kento isn't avoiding her because he does not want this. he wants it too much. she cracks, crawling across the wooden table's expanse to kiss him messily. all tongue and teeth and saliva. she parts to let them breathe, hands holding his face, ❛ we can't-- not-not today. but i want . . . i want you. ❜ it would be too messy. she wouldn't let him stop till her hips honed finger print shaped bruises. her bow and hair destroyed, iori is sure of it. their loving is tender but not without force. she has a class after lunch to teach. the students would see her swollen lips and dazed expression. utahime grits her teeth.

she doesn't want the opportunity to go to waste either. could she kneel and worship him once more? no. most likely not. her boyfriend is picking her up today. dinner reservations. nothing fancy but he's excited about it. there aren't any spare toothbrushes on campus. he'd no doubt want a kiss at some point as well. but iori needs this. she wants it terribly and awfully and cruelly. the question of how goes off in her head like a light bulb. them experimenting. giddy and hushed because dorm walls were thin. both too eager to run to the pharmacy for a new box protection. kento pulling out just in time, his thumb rubbing slippery circles while she keened and her own hands held sodden folds open. finishing himself off, tip a few measly inches from entrance to fill but not make the dangerous contact that would lead to a lifetime of responsibility.

she's bending over her desk's edge, hakama shoved down trembling thighs in a messy heap. a whimpering cry. she's pleading, eyes wide and nearly frantic as she looks back at him over her shoulder, ❛ come inside. you don't ev-even h-have to put it in. i-i can . . . i'll k-keep myself o-open. like we d-did b-before? remember? how we used t-to? ❜

@co11apsesins . @co11apse .

[heavenhillgirl]

Normal People

[sincantations]

❝ say it. say you need me. say it louder. ❞

utahime is a mess of a emotions. she can't recall their first time being this intense. it was soft, delicate. he let her get on top, control the pace. he touched her, kissed her with a focus that was pure devotion. he had managed to make her finish just as he was emptying into the condom with the help of a dutiful thumb. he hid her under his covers when haibara burst through the dorm door to pass out in a fit of grizzly bear level snores. they giggled under the blanket and shared soft kisses till she had to go.

he's a prince, her kento. even now, kissing her wet cheeks, interlocking their fingers. her heart hammers, chest rattling with sobs that she had been harboring for years since he'd quit the society those years ago. she knows she can't look enticing in this state. she apologizes between hiccups too because she wants him to feel good. to take his pleasure in her. his hold on her hips is excruciating and she knows it's because he missed her too. they'd been toeing around this for too long. always sneaking kisses. quick releases that they can wipe off and walk away from.

now it is raw. pure primal desire that has bubbled up and spilt over from years of avoidance. his command is exactly what she needs to hear but what's new? nanami always knows what to do. in every aspect of his life he knows what is right. what needs to be done for the best outcome. it's why she trusts that this affair-- this rotten act they are committing together matters. it has meaning.

she holds her breasts, palms ceasing their prior bounces that began to distract her from the perfect way he filled her over and over. she gazes at him, sniffling and crying, ❛ n-need you! just y-you! ❜ only him. always him. her brain is static, only able to make out his face, the feeling of him inside her, the weight of his body as it crashes into hers. ❛ i love you. k-kent-to. l-love you. ❜

@co11apse .

[sincantations]

[ mirror ] sender takes receiver in front of the mirror so they can both watch

he has a nice place. spacious, painfully modern like something out a catalogue. everything looks close to brand new as if he barely lives there at all. utahime has half a mind to ask if he decorated the place himself when she spots the full length mirror to the far left of the living room wall. she pictures him giving himself a once over every morning, ensuring his hair is shiny but not oily. his shoes are free of any scuffs. his shirt is wrinkle free. the thought makes her smile to herself and she catches her expression in the object and it makes her sheepish.

they sit on the couch and she suspects it's because he knows how skittish she is. that if he took her to his room, she would sit at the very edge of his bed, keep her coat on, chicken out. utahime is a good girl. she doesn't kiss on the first date. she only has one drink, nibbles on finger foods. her mother raised her to be a proper lady and as a result, she is completely out of her depth at suguru's home. they've been tiptoeing around each other relentlessly. mostly her doing. but he's patient. playing the field as if it is a mere pastime and not something he wants nor needs.

yet, she wants to be brave. wants to prove to him that she isn't as fawn appearing as he observed in their time as acquaintances. it only takes her a whopping twelve minutes to shed her jacket, leaving it draped over the arm rest and she does it as casually as she can. hands moving animatedly as they talk, fabric slipping from her limbs in a quiet swish of movement. within the next seven minutes, she's crossing her legs, letting her knees brush his. a silent display of, see! look! you can touch me! please touch me!

when he does, a few moments after, it is to kiss her and she melts. eyes flutter shut, hands balling into fists on her lap because she isn't sure what to do with them. does he want to be touched? would he be okay with her running her fingers through his hair? caressing the sharp line of his jaw? iori wonders if he is the type to have ocd. if he'd hold her hands down for reaching out and bunching up his slacks or mussing with his hair. she doesn't want to assume but his tongue is on hers and she moans in surprise.

by the time she's bent over the coffee table, her modest knee length skirt bunched up to her waist, she's spinning. he touches her with a near surgical precision. obviously and well experienced on female anatomy. she's worked up to nines. inner thighs moist from geto's calculated scissoring. her chest feeling tight as it struggles between breathing fully and the pathetic urge to wheeze through self imposed suffocation. when he slides himself in, utahime tenses up with a huff of a breath. it's a stretch that feels eternal, akin to a bodily split in gymnastics.

she nearly apologizes, cheek against the glass, because her finger prints and hot breath are tainting the one crystal clear surface. luckily, his hips don't permit much to leave her lips outside of the stuttering mewl and shuddering gasp. just as she's about to open her mouth, the weight of his body presses down onto hers and he angles her face to catch the mirror. he nearly engulf her form in the reflection. the meat of her thighs are jostling with every stroke and she watches his throat bob with a deep swallow that precedes a groan. his hair is starting to come loose from the elastic that kept it neat and the stray ends tickle her back.

utahime is speechless then. succumbing to the act of being his marionette that twitches and shakes according to his pointed control. when her eyes catch his, she can see the twin hue of pink on their cheeks, the way their irises have gone from brown to black with dilation. leg kicks out behind her, knee jerk reaction to a particular thrust that tickles her insides just right. her face screws up, cutting out the debauched image of them from her sight and iori croaks, ❛ o-oh! s-sugu-r-ru! ❜

@lustraveil .

[ho11owsins]

@incantat1ons, @sincantations: ❝ don’t you dare finish until i tell you to. ❞

AT  THE  MERCY  OF  A  vengeful  woman.  above  the  pelvis,  his  body  was  planted  against  the  hard,  wooden  surface  of  her  desk.  below,  his  bareness  was  subjected  to  her  retaliations.  his  hands  were  restrained  from  taking  any  liberties  of  his  own,  left  with  no  choice  but  to  take  whatever  she’d  give.  as  anticipation  mounted,  his  breathing  lost  depth  while  his  heartbeat  gained  pace.  rapid,  shallow  huffs  were  expelled  in  an  interminable  series.  and  she  did  not  introduce  the  extension  of  herself  gently.  with  his  pucker  exposed,  she  rammed  through,  forcing  it  to  expand  around  her  size.  his  voice  would  then  come  up  to  yelp.  initially,  instinct  resisted  the  source  of  pain.  he  squirmed,  muscles  clenching  the  intrusive  thickness  as  if  to  deter  it.  but  with  a  strong  thrust,  she  ventured  deeper  and  made  them  yield. 

now  helplessly  filled,  heat  engulfed  his  face  and  covered  it  in  red.  baby  blues  were  wide  like  his  mouth  as  it  provided  passage  for  whimpers.  as  the  momentum  of  her  thrusts  increased,  so  did  the  impact.  each  one  pushed  him  closer  to  the  brink.  he  tried  to  wriggle  his  hands  free,  wanting  badly  to  soothe  his  twitchy  and  rigid  erection.  an  additional  ache  begging  to  be  tended  to.  but  he  couldn’t.  it  simply  had  to  suffer. 

his  skin  stung  as  her  hips  slapped  it  repeatedly,  rapidly,  fiercely.  overstimulated,  his  knees  were  shaking,  about  to  give  way,  and  his  stomach  was  twisting  with  the  rapid  ascent  of  his  climax.  however,  only  she could permit  its  release.  therefore,  he  somehow  had  to  summon  up  the  strength  to  stifle  it  until  then.  it  didn’t  matter  that  she  was  sapping  everything  from  him  and  turning  him  into  putty.

he  doubted  he  could. 

so,  in  a  desperate  attempt  to  appeal  to  her  merciful  side  (if  such  a  thing  even  existed),  he  decided  to  repent  his  past transgressions. 

❛  uta⸺hime, i⸺i….'m  s-sorry!!!  ❜  his  words  were  as  unstable  and  weak  as  he  felt,  but  the  height  of  his  desperation  produced  a  high  volume.  he  practically  yelled.

❛  p⸺p...lease…!!!  ❜

[sincantations]

it's a power trip she never thought she could have. the great and powerful satoru gojo crying for her. trembling like a leaf and broken for her. she wasn't a complete monster. she loves gojo. he's special to her. she came prepared with lubricant and careful fingers. obviously nowhere near enough prep to be painless but iori knows gojo. he can't properly adhere to authority unless it is imposed upon him in a way that pierces infinity. the first snap of her hips coupled with his sound is like a shot of adrenaline. her blood rushes in her ears and her hands spread the pretty apples of his cheeks to watch sparking silicone disappear and reappear. his rim used to be a pale pink that matched the head of his pretty dick but it's strained around her now, a soft poppy color red. she laughs softly, grinning down at the display, ❛ poor baby. you're so tight for mommy, sato. ❜

nails dig into the porcelain globes, wanting to leave indents that last a few hours at the minimum. she continues her punishing rhythm, hypnotized by the way the toy is swallowed by him. his wriggling and panting does not fall on deaf ears, she tilts head to the side and sees the bobbing erection and smiles at how it dribbles fruitlessly. utahime coos, ❛ oh, do you want me to touch you? ❜ with a mean display of strength, she is burying herself to his hilt and grabbing his hair with one hand to yank him up in an uncomfortable arch. other hand is held up to his mouth, ❛ spit, pretty boy. ❜

[painfulblisss]

[sincantations]

[ between ] sender slips a hand between receiver’s thighs while whispering, “you’ve been wanting this, haven’t you?”

it was intended to be coworker outing. some dive in tokyo that shoko insisted upon for the cheap drinks and greasy appetizers. kento had been distant since the evening he introduced her to his apartment and she fell to his knees in a puddle of low impulse control and desperation. it hurt. not as much as it did when she did not have him at all, but enough to where she was afraid everyone would be able to tell something was not right with her. they all slide into a two sided booth together. gojo snagging the seat beside shoko before she could resulting in iori sitting opposite the doctor. it leaves the space open for nanami to occupy and that alone makes her stiffen. it feels like a crime for him to be so close. for her to smell his cologne, feel the brush of his leg against hers. she keeps her gaze trained on the two in front of them. watching shoko slap away gojo's greedy fingers as they reach for another fried piece of cheese and forcing herself to laugh when gojo spews some theatric retelling of the latest mission his students went on.

and utahime is downing drinks to drown out her anxious insides. each pitcher being finished quicker than the last. it isn't long before shoko's eyes are going lazy and gojo is poking at her cheek. the two are bickering now and utahime is now left out of the interaction. forced to fall into kento's attention. she goes to open her mouth, ready to blurt out something both boring and casual before the words die on her lips. he's crowded her against the wall's end of the booth, his lips are at her ear, hand tucked under the sundress she swears she did not wear specifically with the intention to get him to look at her. iori bites back a gasp, his words provoking an onslaught of slick that rushes to greet his fingertips.

she nods shakily, a quiet whimper escaping her lips. face shifts to tuck itself into his neck and croon softly. to anyone in the vicinity, it would appear as though she's telling him something that cannot be heard beyond the sound of music in the speakers. utahime shudders, voice a breathy exhale, ❛ thought y'were mad at me. 'm so sorry, kento. ❜ her hand grips his knee, nails sinking into the fabric slightly to ground herself, ❛ please touch me. need you so bad, please. ❜

@co11apse .

[sincantations]

[ praise ] in the middle of it all, sender whispers praise between every movement "just like that," "you're doing so good," "don’t stop"

it has been some time since the last time she can recall having him this way. there were a few moments she remembers fondly! trips back from missions, kento shadowing her after graduation, the rush of adrenaline after the battle. frantic hands as they climbed into the school issued vehicles. the need to be quick but sated. drawing faces in the fogged glass after. it has been years since they smiled breathlessly that way. but that does not matter any now. nanami has come back and utahime aches to reacquaint herself with him.

her eyes are watery. pupils dilated. wide as saucers. she's high on him. the familiar musk of him as she nuzzles his lap. the weight of him on her tongue. the flavor of salted flesh on her tastebuds. the brush of ash blond curls against her nose. she can't look away from his face either. he's changed and utahime is smitten all over again. she hums around him, lips stretched but unrelenting in suction. and she's squirming on her knees his words spurring her on, making her needy and weak with their breathy tone. iori readjusts, shifting to sit on the toe of his loafers. just for pressure, she tells herself. it isn't long before she's dripping down her chin in saliva and her hips are gyrating against his shoe. desperate as the day they first touched.

@co11apse.

[sincantations]

[ needy ] sender pulls receiver into their lap, desperate and breathless, kissing them like it’s not enough

it is a bad idea.   that much she DOES know.   but the first kiss felt ELECTRIC.   her first kiss.   only kiss.   it was an embarrassing feat,   really.   utahime was supposed to be older,   wiser.   she was supposed to be BRIMMING with life experience and yet she had her first kiss at 21 years old with a younger someone she HATED.   but his mouth   . . .   his tongue—   they were engrossing to say the least.   every swipe and nip made her legs feel jelly.   there was a throbbing between her thighs that she only felt after watching something risque,   hearing the guys groan during combat training.   it annoyed her greatly that he was so good at this.   that he knew exactly what to do to make her stomach flip and thighs press together.   while in the time since that initial brushing of lips,   they have not gone further than some over the clothes groping and rubbing.   utahime knows they’re both itching for more though.   desperate to feel each other's skin without barriers and a potential audience. 

iori pulls back to pant softly,   cheeks ABLAZE.   they’re leaning against her desk—   in the newly bestowed classroom she would be teaching in come the following semester.   satoru jokingly suggested CHRISTENING it after she insisted on showing him the space.   the campus is empty.   she memorized faculty and staff schedules within her first week shadowing as an instructor.   satoru is chirping in her ear about how cute it is that she doesn’t know what she’s doing.   how sloppy her kisses are.   that she’s lucky he’s happy to teach her.   even in her own hormonal haze,   his words are enough to get a rise out of her.   she frowns,   pushing him back against the wood and hissing,     ❛   would you just shut up?   ❜   

fingers are clumsy as they pop open uniform trousers with one hand.   the other limb remains flat in the center of his chest,   holding him still.   the unruliest of puppies.   when she succeeds,   her embarrassment wanes slightly at the feel of him warm and heavy in her palm.   he liked her sloppy kisses.   iori exhales sharply.   she’s never seen one up close.   never held one either.   but she doesn’t want him to tease her for that too so she give it one firm tug—   more experimental than experienced.     ❛   i don’t think you’ll get this inside me.   not that you deserve to.   but if you move or make fun of me,   this’ll NEVER happen again.   ❜     utahime leans forward,   eyes trained on his face for the guidance she refuses to ask for,   still holding him in place to suckle at the engorged tip of him.

@ho11owpurple .

[cum-mywae-deactivated20250824]

[xcassiopeiaa-deactivated2025090]

[butternaan]

me

[photografya-deactivated20230917]

[neonearthtone]

[might-gonna-deactivated20250804]

[couple-feelings-deactivated2025]