Adult!!! Toph x femreader
“You’re nothing but a blind little show-off who trips over her own ego,” you snarled, shoving her shoulder hard. The dimly lit room smelled of dust and old stone, the kind of place that felt like her territory. Toph didn’t stumble far. She just grinned, that infuriating, lopsided smirk spreading across her face as she caught your wrist and yanked you forward until your bodies collided.
“Big talk from a prissy little traitor who couldn’t bend a pebble if her life depended on it,” she fired back, her voice low and dripping with arrogance. Her grip was iron, calloused fingers digging into your skin like she was rooting you to the earth. You hated how solid she felt, how her shorter frame somehow radiated more power than anyone you’d ever met. Your heart pounded with pure loathing—and something hotter, angrier, that you refused to name.
Before you could spit another insult, her mouth crashed into yours. It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t even close. This was hate given form: teeth clashing, lips bruising, pure fury pouring out in the press of skin. You bit back immediately, snarky and vicious, sinking your teeth into her lower lip hard enough to draw blood. The metallic tang hit your tongue, warm and sharp, and a low growl rumbled from her throat. Instead of pulling away, Toph pressed harder, like the pain only fueled her cocky defiance. Her tongue shoved past your lips, claiming the kiss with that same earth-shaking confidence she brought to everything.
You tasted her blood and it made you furious—furious at how good it felt, how it mixed with the heat building between you. “Hate you,” you hissed against her mouth when you both gasped for air, your voice rude and venomous. Your fingers twisted into her messy dark hair, yanking her head back just enough to make her hiss. But Toph only laughed, low and smug, the sound vibrating through your chest.
“Yeah? Show me how much,” she taunted, cocky as ever, even with a split lip. Then she kissed you again, deeper this time, slower but no less intense. Her tongue stroked yours in a filthy, deliberate slide that made your knees feel weak. You hated her for it. You hated how she could read every shift in your weight, every quickened breath, through the vibrations in the floor. Her hands roamed down your sides, possessive and rough, gripping your hips like she was daring the earth to swallow you both.
You retaliated the only way you knew how—being a complete bitch about it. Your nails dug into her shoulders as you pushed her back against the stone wall, the impact thudding dully. She didn’t mind. If anything, it made her kiss you harder, tongues tangling in a slick, heated battle. The coppery taste of her blood lingered, mixing with saliva as the kiss turned messy and desperate. You sucked on her injured lip, drawing another hiss from her that sent a dark thrill through you. Villainous satisfaction curled in your chest. Let her bleed. Let her feel a fraction of the irritation she caused you every damn day.
“Prick,” you muttered, nipping her again, not quite as hard this time but still mean. Toph’s response was immediate—she spun you around with surprising strength, reversing your positions so your back hit the wall instead. The stone was cool through your clothes, a sharp contrast to the heat of her body pinning you there.
“Bossy little bitch,” she shot back, voice husky and amused. Her usual cockiness was dialed up to eleven, like she knew exactly how much you wanted to punch her and fuck her at the same time. She dove back in, kissing you so deeply it stole the breath from your lungs. Tongues gliding, retreating, chasing each other in a rhythm that felt like fighting and fucking all at once. One of her hands slid up to cup the back of your neck, holding you exactly where she wanted you while the other gripped your waist, fingers pressing hard enough to leave marks. You arched into her, rude and unyielding, biting her tongue lightly when it got too cocky. More blood, more heat, more of that messy hatred spilling over. Your mind raced with snarky thoughts even as pleasure fogged the edges—she thinks she’s so superior, but look at her now, bleeding because of me. You moaned into her mouth, the sound angry and unwilling, and Toph swallowed it like she’d won some personal victory.
Minutes blurred. The kiss went on and on, deep and consuming, breaking only for harsh breaths and muttered insults. “You fight like you kiss—sloppy and overconfident,” you panted, lips swollen and tingling. Toph chuckled against your jaw, dragging her teeth along your skin before capturing your mouth again.
“And you talk too much for someone who’s melting against me,” she replied, cocky and unbearably smug. Her tongue traced yours slowly this time, savoring the shared taste of blood and spite. It was disgusting. It was perfect. You hated how your body responded, how the ache between your legs grew with every filthy stroke and every rude nip you gave her in return.
You shoved a hand into her hair again, tugging until she made that low growl you were starting to crave. Then you kissed her back just as deep, pouring every ounce of your villainous resentment into it. Tongues sliding, lips sucking, teeth clashing whenever one of you got too aggressive. The room felt smaller, hotter, the air thick with tension and the faint metallic scent of her blood.
By the time you finally broke apart, chests heaving, lips red and bruised, Toph’s signature smirk was back in full force despite the drying blood on her mouth. “Not bad for a traitor,” she said, voice rough.
You wiped your own lip with the back of your hand, glaring at her with all the snark you could muster while still catching your breath. “Don’t flatter yourself, Beifong. I still hate your guts.”
“Good,” she replied, leaning in close enough that her breath ghosted your swollen lips. “Hate you more.”
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