#and never let being a boy stop you from being a girl

[nighttimealone]

Cw: Nsfw (141 x fem!reader, live together)

Beside you, Kyle is the first to wake up in the morning. He’ll pad towards the kitchen, enjoying the sight of you making your morning drink silently, before moving to stand right behind you, arms wrapped around your waist as he grinds he bulge lazily against your ass. He just wants to feel your warmth, how nice your soft flesh press against his cock.

“Just want to feel you, baby. It’s so cold out here.” He’ll unabashedly slip his hands under your pajamas shirt, kneading your breasts and tugging at those sensitive buds, forcing you to stop brewing your drink because you might spill the liquid.

Kyle just want to get an orgasm from you, a gift for you two morning birds, he claims before succumbing to sleepiness and tuck himself back under the duvet, fully content with being the first man making you come undone everyday, and sleeps in 5 more minutes.

You know Johnny will drag you into the shower with him whenever he comes back from his morning jog. You chide him before he engulfs you in his embrace, lightheartedly calling him a stinky man and shush him to go shower first.

So his solution is hug you despite your protest, then pull you inside the bathroom together, stripping off your pajamas and his sports wear impatiently before jumping into the shower with you.

“We’re both stinky now, jus’ thought ye might need a shower too.” Johnny grins when you glare at him, shamelessly pretends he’s just ‘looking out for ye’ while his hands traveling across your body, groping and preparing you for his cock with his hard dick prodding at the small of your back. He’ll never hurt you, but as soon as you’re wet enough for his girthy shaft, he’ll pick you up, stretching you deeply and completely with the help of your weight, groans and growls at how good you are, how your precious pussy takes him so good, ignoring Ghost’s noise complaint coming from the other side of the bathroom door as he fucks you fast and feral, making you unable to care about suppressing your moans and cling onto him, let him keep scooping you in his arms and thrust into you till he empty his balls in your good little cunt.

Finally getting Kyle and Johnny pass out from the alcohol, John and Simon manhandle them back to the bedroom before entering the living room again. 00:13, a glance at the clock telling you it’s late in the night, but it’s just the start for the three of you. Retrieving a bottle of fine rum, John seats you between him and Simon, thighs touching with theirs as you all sip on the wine and chat quietly. “The boys will chug the rum like it’s some cheap beer, they can settle with those just fine.” John chuckles lowly and comments on the awful taste and drinking habit of Kyle and Johnny.

“Those bonkers will stick to your side the whole day and complain if they find out, old man.” Simon chimes in after huffing out a laugh at John’s words.

You snicker along with them, feeling fully content and relaxed with squished between two of your lovers, joking about the other two men you loved while the rum flows smoothly down your throat. Soon your composure slips after few nips of the wine, whining cute and groggily as Simon ravish in the kiss with you, tongues dance and tangle with each other in a slow pace, let him drink down all your syrupy moans and coos in rare gentleness, so John can slickens up your pussy with his lips and your juices, making sure you can accommodate their fat cocks later, and you can’t expect or plead him to sink his cock into you already until him and Simon can see your juices dripping down your soaked folds, praying them to fill you up.

The two men will treat you so well, worshipping their dearest girl in the world. Simon’s fingers and lips are always on you when John squeeze his fat tip into your entrance, gliding in and out slowly and heavily, so all those spongy spots of yours that can make you chant his name like a mantra aren’t missed out. When he put a load in you with a husky groan, passing you onto Simon’s lap and let you lean back on his chest, he’ll plant tiny kisses on your shoulder, murmur about how they love you—will protect you and keep you safe and sound—against your skin. Simon allows him to indulge in the heat and tightness of your pussy, grunting and praising you as he fuck John’s cum back inside you, making sure you take each drops of John’s seeds, like the reliable lieutenant he always is for his captain. The base of his length has formed a creamy froth the time he nips down slightly on your shoulder to muffle his moan, drenching your messy cunt with every bit of his release. “Atta girl.” His croon is added with John’s soothing voice “Yeah, been so good for us, princess.”

They both pick up the glass once again to finish the remaining rum, with you already drifting between your slumber and consciousness, listening to their small chatters as your own lullaby. You don’t know when they’ll finish drinking, or if one of them will nestle their cock inside your pussy again, just to feel your walls clenching down subconsciously, but you let yourself slip into a dream, because they’ll take good care of you, always do and always will.

[itneverendshere]

how would the cameron family react to rafe dating a pogue

found a girl my parents love - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe) Ps: ward's not a monster in this, just an asshole sometimes, bc my boy rafe deserves a better father figure. also, didn’t know if this request was for this couple but i felt like it fitted them perfectly so here we are again 🫶🏻🤗

Rafe selfishly wanted to keep you a secret for as long as he could. 

Not because he was ashamed of you—not even close. You were his, the only person who actually got him. That part of him he never let anyone see, not his family, not his boys.

It was complicated, though, and his family didn't do "complicated" well. Especially not with a pogue. His dad would flip if he knew he was dating someone he hadn’t been personally introduced to before.

The bartender from the club, of all people. The one they’d see serving drinks to them all summer, like you didn’t exist outside those moments. That was the thing though, you did exist, more than anyone he’d ever known. You were real. That’s why he wanted to keep it just for himself. It was his one thing that no one else could touch, could ruin. Topper knew, sure, but he wasn’t going to run his mouth to Sarah after she broke his heart.

So yeah, he held on to it, kept you away from the world that would tear it down before it even had a chance to really breathe. Until Weezie stumbled into your date at the ice cream shop.

He remembered the way his heart stopped when he saw her walk in. Of all places. Of all the people. She looked at him with wide brown eyes, then at you, and then back to him like she’d just walked in on something she wasn’t supposed to see. 

And honestly? She did.

“What the hell are you doing here, Weeze?” he snapped, more out of panic than anger.

"Uh? Getting ice cream?" Her face lit up, a huge grin stretching across her cheeks. “What are you doing here? And with her?” She looked at you, her excitement bubbling over before Rafe could get a word in. “Oh my God, this is so cool! You’re dating her? Like, for real?”

You smiled awkwardly, sensing the tension rolling off him. He looked like he was seconds away from shitting himself. He could’ve killed Weezie right then and there. But instead, he just sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah, well… don’t tell anyone, alright?”

“Are you kidding?” Weezie practically bounced. “I won’t say a word. Scout’s honor.” She shot you a smile before turning to leave. “But like, this is so cool.”

He scowled at her, “Stop being creepy.”

You slapped his chest, scolding him “Be nice.”

“Oh, I like her!”

She kept her word. For a little while, at least.

A few weeks later, they were all sitting around the dinner table—Ward, Sarah, Rafe, and Weezie. Rose was out doing whatever the fuck she did with her friends. Everything was going fine until Weezie, mid-conversation about nothing important, let it slip.

“I saw Rafe and his girlfriend the other day,” she said, just like it was no big deal.

Girlfriend.

Rafe froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. Sarah looked like she’d just been smacked in the face.

“Girlfriend?” Sarah’s voice went up an octave. “Since when do you have a girlfriend?”

He shot Weezie a look that could shove her ten feet under, but it was too late. She slapped a hand over her mouth, realizing her mistake.

Ward raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. “You got something to share with the family, son?”

Rafe cleared his throat, putting his fork down, already working up a sweat. He knew he couldn’t lie his way out of this one. And honestly?

Maybe it was time to stop hiding. He glanced at Sarah, who still looked at him like he was from outer space, then at his dad. He’d always given him shit about girls, all these big speeches about how none of them were ever worth bringing home unless he was serious. 

Well, he was serious.

“Yeah,” Rafe muttered, meeting his dad’s eyes. “I’ve been seeing someone.”

Sarah’s mouth dropped open. “Who?”

“She’s a pogue!”

Rafe closed his eyes, sighing as Weezie blurted the most important piece of information out. She really just dropped the biggest bomb in the most casual way possible. His dad’s expression didn’t change much, but Sarah? She was fully in shock, her jaw practically hitting the table.

“A Pogue?” Sarah repeated, like she couldn’t believe the words even existed in the same sentence as Rafe. “Are you serious? In this lifetime?”

He shot her a glare. “Yeah, a Pogue. What, is that some kind of crime?”

“What?” She shrieked, “You gave me so much shit when I dated John B!”

He clenched his jaw, his patience hanging by a thread. Of course she was going to bring up John B. She couldn’t let anything go. “That was different,” he snapped.

Sarah scoffed, folding her arms “Different? How exactly?”

Rafe rolled his eyes. “Because John B’s a dirtbag who had you sneaking around doing God knows what. This is—” he stopped himself, trying to find the right words. “This is different, okay? She’s not like him.”

“So, it’s okay when you date a Pogue? Got it.”

“To be fair,” Weezie chimed in, “John B smelled like shit.”

He couldn’t help the snort that escaped his lips, even though the last thing he wanted to do was encourage her. Sarah shot Weezie a death glare, clearly not amused.

“Language,” Ward warned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How many times do I have to tell you girls? No swearing at the table.”

The room fell silent, everyone looking at Rafe like they were waiting for him to say something. His dad didn’t even look mad—if anything, he looked weirdly intrigued.

“So,” Ward said slowly, his gaze locking onto Rafe’s. “You’re serious about her then? Serious enough for me to meet her?”

Rafe swallowed. “Yeah. I am.”

“Alright. Let’s make that happen then.”

He blinked, completely thrown off. “What?”

Ward’s response was calm, almost too calm. “If you’re serious about this girl, then it’s time I meet her.”

Rafe just stared at him, unsure if he’d heard that right. His dad wasn’t angry? Was he impressed? Or was this some kind of setup?

“You... wanna meet her?” he repeated, like he needed the words to make sense.

His dad’s expression wasn’t the usual stone wall of judgment. “I’ve always said if it’s not serious, don’t bother bringing her around. You’re saying she’s important to you, right?”

“Uh, yeah…” Rafe’s voice trailed off, still half-expecting this to somehow turn into a lecture or some Ward Cameron test. “She is.”

He nodded, like he was already planning it. “Alright then, set it up. I’ll meet her.”

He couldn’t tell if this was a win or if he’d just walked into something he wasn’t prepared for. His whole plan was to avoid this exact conversation. He looked across the table, expecting Sarah to be just as blindsided as he was, but she was still stuck on one detail.

“You’re dating a Pogue,” she muttered, shaking her head like she couldn’t get past that fact. “I just… wow.”

Rafe shot her a glare. “Get over it.”

Weezie, always the little instigator, grinned. “She was cool.”

“Okay, so… when do I get to meet her?” Sarah’s brown eyes widened with curiosity. “Is she cute? What’s she like?”

This wasn’t how he thought the night was going to go at all. 

An hour later, he was lying in bed, staring at his phone, his mind still spinning from dinner. He pulled up your contact, hesitating for a second before hitting the FaceTime button. The screen flashed for a moment, and then there you were, all cozy in your own bed, unaware of what was about to hit.

“Hi baby,” you chirped, clearly happy to see him, “What’s up? You look stressed.”

Rafe rubbed his face, letting out a long breath. “Yeah, well, uh—something happened at dinner tonight.”

Your face scrunched up in confusion, tilting the phone closer to you. “What? Did Sarah say something dumb again?”

“Nah, worse,” he muttered. “Weezie... Weezie kinda let it slip. About us.”

Your eyes widened immediately. “Wait, what? She told them?!”

“Yeah,” he said, letting out a low chuckle at the memory of the whole dinner spiraling out of control. “Just dropped it casually like it was no big deal. Sarah freaked out, and my dad—" He stopped, rubbing the back of his neck. “He wants to meet you.”

For a second, you didn’t say anything. You just blinked, processing his words. 

“Wait... Ward Cameron wants to meet me? As in, your dad?”

“Yeah,” He mumbled, almost sheepishly. “He’s all, ‘If you’re serious, I should meet her,’ or some shit. Like it’s no big deal.”

You sat up straight, your heart racing. “Rafe, that is a big deal! What the hell do you mean he wants to meet me?!” Your voice rose, panic starting to take over. “Oh my God, I didn’t even think about having to meet your dad. I figured we’d just— I don’t know—figure it out later!”

Rafe winced, knowing this would freak you out. He tried to keep his voice calm, even though he wasn’t exactly calm himself. “Baby, it’s not like tomorrow or anything. We can plan it out.”

But you were already spiraling. “Your dad’s gonna take one look at me— What if he hates me? What if he tells you I’m not worth it, and then—” you paused, your voice breaking slightly, “What if you start to believe him?”

His stomach clenched at your words. He sat up, the phone now held closer to his face. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Stop right there. What are you even talking about?”

You bit your lip, your thoughts running wild. “I mean... what if he convinces you that I’m not good enough? What if you start seeing me differently? You know how your dad is—he could talk you out of this, talk you out of us.”

Rafe shook his head, almost angry that you’d even think that way. “Are you serious right now? No way in hell is that happening. I don’t give a shit what my dad thinks. You’re the one I’m with because I want to be with you.”

You sighed, your nerves still rattled. “But what if he tries to get in your head? You always talk about how much pressure he puts on you. What if he—”

He cut you off, his voice firm, assertive. “Look, I’m serious about you. I told him that tonight. It doesn’t matter what he says, because you’re the one I love. No one’s changing my mind about that. Not even Ward fucking Cameron.” His eyes softened a little. “I already met your sister. This is just the next step, yeah? It’s us. We���re solid.”

“I think I’m gonna throw up.”

He hated this—hated that the idea of meeting his dad was making you feel like this, but he couldn’t blame you. Ward was intimidating even on his best days, and this was not going to be one of those days.

“You’re not gonna throw up,” he said, trying to calm you down, though he wasn’t sure if he was trying to reassure you or himself.

You shook your head, running a hand through your bed hair. “What if I say something dumb? What if I screw up, and he hates me, and then everything goes downhill? I’m not, like... your people. You know that.”

His jaw clenched, hating the way you thought of yourself like that. “Don’t say that,” he scolded, “You’re exactly my people. You’re my person.”

“Yeah, but—”

“No ‘buts.’” He cut you off, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Listen to me. My dad’s opinion doesn’t change anything. He’s not gonna make me see you any differently. You’re still gonna be the same girl I’m crazy about, no matter what he says or doesn’t say. Got it?”

You took a deep breath, trying to believe him. “It’s just—I don’t know, Rafe. I don’t fit into that world, and what if he sees that right away?”

He hated that you felt this way, hated that his dad had this kind of power hanging over the two of you. “You don’t need to fit into his world, okay? You fit into mine, and that’s all that matters.”

Your lips quivered, and for a second, he thought you might start crying. He could feel the panic rolling off of you through the phone, and it hit him hard—he hadn’t realized just how terrified you were of this.

“What if he really doesn’t think I’m good enough for you?” You whispered, almost like you were scared to say it out loud.

Rafe’s heart clenched, and without thinking, he shot up out of bed, pacing his room like he needed to burn off the frustration

“You’re more than good enough for me.”

Your breath hitched, and you looked away for a second like you were trying to compose yourself.

“I just don’t want him to—I don’t know? To make you feel like you have to choose between me and your family.”

He stopped pacing, his grip tightening on the phone. “If it ever came to that? I’d choose you. Every fucking time.”

You blinked, taken aback by the intensity in his voice. “Rafe—”

“I mean it,” he said, cutting you off again. “I’m not letting my dad, or anyone else, get in the way. I don’t care if he’s Ward Cameron or the president of the United States. He’s not gonna run my life, and he sure as hell isn’t gonna ruin the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I love you. And nothing my dad says or thinks is gonna change that. Ever.”

Tears stung at the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall over. Not because you were scared anymore, but because of him. Because of how much he cared. How much he loved you, even when you were spiraling.

He was staring at the screen, concern written all over his face, brows furrowing, "Wait, are you crying?" His voice softened, like he wasn’t sure how to handle you like this, but he knew he wanted to. He needed to.

You quickly rubbed at your eyes, laughing to try and cover up the tears, "No, no, I just— got something in my eye." Your laugh was shaky, and you knew you weren’t fooling anyone.

He didn’t say anything for a second, just watched you with that loving look of his that made you want to bawl your eyes out even harder. He saw right through you. He always did.

“You know,” he finally said, “You don’t have to worry about all that shit. I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.”

And that’s when you almost lost it. Because wow. No one had ever said something like that to you before, not until him. Never like that, like he really meant it, like you were the most important thing in his world.

You sniffed, trying to laugh it off again, but it just came out all soft and broken. “I’m just—” you paused, not even sure how to explain how you were feeling, “I’m not used to this. Like, you... caring this much. Loving me like this.”

Rafe’s eyes softened, and he leaned a little closer to the screen, “I’m not stopping.”

“I know. I love you too.”

It was real now.

Meeting the Camerons wasn’t something you could avoid anymore, but at least you knew you had Rafe, a hundred percent.

“You still freaking out?” he asked, though his tone was lighter, like he knew the answer.

“Yeah,” you admitted with a small laugh. “But I’ll get over it.”

“Good,” he said, his smirk returning. “Because I kinda need you around.”

“Kinda?”

He grinned, dimples framing his face, “Okay, a lot.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Rafe hadn’t said a word the entire drive, which was already freaking you out more than you wanted to admit. His knuckles were white, tight around the steering wheel. His jaw was locked, teeth grinding together and you’d caught him glancing at you out of the corner of his eye at least three times in the past minute.

Your heart was hammering, stomach in knots, and you were starting to wonder if you might actually throw up by the time you got to Tannyhill.

“Baby, seriously, if we crash into a tree ‘cause you’re having a silent meltdown over there, that’s not gonna help either of us.”

He blinked, finally loosening his grip on the wheel. “Sorry. I’m just—fuck, I don’t know.”

You tried to smile, but it felt weak. “Yeah, me too. I feel like I’m walking into some kind of corporate job interview I didn’t apply for.”

Rafe snorted. “Yeah, except the CEO’s a control freak and the company’s, I don’t know, cursed or something.”

That made you laugh, a short, nervous laugh, but still. You appreciated the attempt at humor, even if the nerves in your stomach weren’t going anywhere.

“So, uh... game plan?” you asked, half-joking, but mostly serious. “Am I supposed to shake his hand? Call him Mr. Cameron? Or is it more of a ‘hey, what’s up, Ward?’ situation?”

Rafe finally cracked a grin, shaking his head. “God, I don’t know. Don’t call him Ward; that might send him into some power trip. But definitely don’t call him Mr. Cameron either, ‘cause that’ll just make it weird.”

“Great, so I’ll just go with ‘Hi’ and hope I don’t trip over my own feet.”

“Perfect,” Rafe deadpanned, glancing over at you, “Just be yourself. He’s not as bad as you think. Mostly.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Mostly?”

Rafe’s lips pressed together. "He's not gonna throw you out or anything. And if he does, we’re leaving together. But Sarah...”

“Sarah,” you groaned, leaning your head back against the seat. You’d barely met Sarah, and from what you could tell, she wasn’t exactly thrilled about Rafe’s choice in girlfriends.

“Just don’t let her get to you,” Rafe muttered, his hand reaching for yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “She’s just mad because I used to make John B’s life a living hell.”

“Define hell.”

Rafe smirked, his fingers still interlaced with yours. "I mean, I threw him off a boat once," he said casually, like that wasn’t one of the most insane things you’d ever heard.

You blinked. “You what?”

He shrugged, keeping his eyes on the road, like it was no big deal. “He was running his mouth about me."

You stared at him in disbelief, “And you think I’m the one who needs to be worried?”

He laughed, finally loosening up a little, “Relax, baby. I’m not throwing you off anything.”

“So she’s not mad about me? She’s just mad about the double standard?”

“Yeah.”

That made it a little easier to breathe.

The silence settled back in for a moment as you pulled up to Tannyhill. The sight of the massive estate took your breath away. You couldn’t help but feel like you were entering a completely different world now that you were here—a world that wasn’t exactly built for you.

Rafe must’ve noticed the way your hands gripped the edge of your seat a little tighter because he let out a long breath.

“Hey, it’s just a dinner. We eat, we talk, we leave. It’s not like they’re gonna put you under a microscope.”

You gave him a side-eye. “You know, I wasn’t nervous until you said that.”

He grinned sheepishly. “Shit. Sorry.”

The car came to a stop, and you could see the flicker of lights through the windows of the house. The pressure in your chest was building, but Rafe turned toward you, his hand cupping your face.

“Listen,” his blue eyes locked on yours, “I don’t care what happens in there. You’ve got me. If anyone makes you feel like you don’t belong, we’re out. Promise.”

You swallowed hard, nodding as you leaned into his touch. “Okay.”

“I’m serious,” he continued, stroking his thumb across your cheek. “One word and I’ll get you out.”

You kissed his palm, “I know.”

“Okay.” he muttered, then pulled away, giving one final deep breath before turning off the ignition. “Let’s get this over with.”

You both stepped out of the car, Rafe knocked once, and within seconds, it swung open to reveal Sarah standing there in all her kook-with-pogue -tendencies glory.

“Well, well,” she smirked, eyes narrowing at you two.

Rafe shot her a sharp look, “Knock it off.”

She rolled her eyes, stepping aside to let you in. “I’m kidding. Kinda.” She turned her attention to you, and you could feel her sizing you up, looking completely unfazed as she led the two of you further into the house. "Dad’s in the study. He’s waiting."

Your heart skipped a beat at that. Waiting? What did that even mean?

Rafe must have felt your nerves spike because he reached for your hand again, squeezing it as you followed Sarah down the long hallway.

The house felt even bigger on the inside, with its high ceilings and fancy decor. You felt out of place. But then you peeked over at Rafe, and something about the way he held your hand made you feel like maybe—just maybe—you did belong.

At least to him.

Sarah finally stopped outside a large wooden door, turning to you with an exaggerated sigh.

"Good luck.”

Rafe hesitated for a second, his hand still gripping yours tightly. "You ready?"

No. Absolutely not. But you nodded anyway. "Yeah. Let’s do this."

He pushed open the door, and there he was.

Ward Cameron, sitting behind a massive oak desk, looking as powerful and intimidating as ever. His eyes flicked up from whatever paperwork he was working on, settling on you with a sharp intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Rafe," Ward said, his voice smooth and controlled, before turning his gaze to you. "And you must be... her."

You swallowed hard, trying to muster up the courage to say something, anything. "Yeah, that’s me. Hi, Mr. Cameron."

You immediately regretted it. Mr. Cameron? It sounded too formal, too awkward.

Ward didn’t seem to mind, though. If anything, he looked amused. He stood up, coming around the desk to get a better look at you. His eyes scanned over you briefly, but it wasn’t the cold, judgmental look you’d expected. Instead, it felt more like... curiosity.

"So, you’re the girl my son’s been so serious about."

You nodded, wanting to be anywhere but stuck in that claustrophobic room despite its size, "That’s me.”

He raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he looked between you and Rafe, “I hear you’re working at the Country Club.”

It wasn’t really a question—more like he already knew everything about you. Oh. You didn’t like that, knowing that someone else was snooping around for dirt on you. At least it sounded like that was the plan.

You managed a nod, trying to keep your voice from sounding too hushed. “Yeah, I’ve been working there for a while.”

His expression didn’t really give anything away, but the way he looked at you, was unnerving. Rafe’s hand squeezed yours, reminding you that, no matter what, he had your back. One word and you were out.

“Good,” Ward finally said, “I like that you work.” He sneaked a stern look at your boyfriend before turning his attention back to you. “He could use some of that drive.”

Wait. What?

You hadn’t expected that. You thought maybe he’d grill you or give you the whole ‘what are your intentions with my son’routine. But no, he was... complimenting you? It had to be some kind of set up.

“Dad—” Rafe started, clearly not expecting that either, but Ward cut him off with a raised hand.

“No, seriously.” His eyes were back on you, and there was almost a smile there, like he was actually impressed. “It’s a good quality. I respect people who work hard, people who don’t just expect things to be handed to them. And from what I’ve heard, you’re one of those people.”

You didn’t even know what to say.

Ward Cameron? Complimenting you? Was this real life? You’d walked in here prepared for a full-on interrogation, and instead, he was... encouraging.

“I just hope some of that rubs off on my son,” Ward added, shooting Rafe a look, and you swore there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. “He could stand to work a little harder. He’s always been a bit lazy.”

You bit back a laugh, glancing over at Rafe. He was glaring at his dad, but you could tell he wasn’t really pissed, just...embarrassed. You found it endearing.

“Thanks, Dad,” Rafe mumbled.

“I like it. Maybe you’ll inspire him to work a little harder.”

You blinked. Wait, was this actually happening? Did Ward Cameron, of all people, just say he liked you? This whole night felt like it was gonna be a disaster, and now... maybe it wasn’t gonna be so bad. You hoped so.

You really wanted his family to like you, you felt like you owned him at least trying.

“You know," Ward began, "I wasn't always the man you see standing here today." His voice took on a reflective tone, and you could sense the change in the atmosphere as he prepared to tell his story. "I grew up on the Cut, just like a lot of those kids you see around he, like you,” Ward said, almost casually, but you could tell it wasn’t a casual thing for him. "Back then, I didn’t have much. But I worked my ass off to get out of that place. I didn’t have a name, no wealth behind me. What I have now? I built that from the ground up. No one handed me anything."

Rafe, who had been quiet up until now, let out a small, barely audible sigh, shifting uncomfortably beside you. You took a quick glance at him and caught the unmistakable eye-roll he tried to hide.

Clearly, this wasn’t the first time Ward had given this speech. But at the same time, you could tell he was relieved that his dad wasn’t tearing into you. That had to count for something, right?

Ward, oblivious or perhaps just unfazed by his son’s reaction, continued, his voice gaining momentum like he was giving you some kind of motivational speech. "It wasn’t easy. There were plenty of times when I could’ve given up, but I didn’t. I pushed through, made connections, took risks. That’s how you get ahead. You have to be willing to do whatever it takes. Now look where I am—" He gestured around at the lavish room, the estate itself practically a testament to his success. "I built an empire. Something real. Something that can last."

You nodded politely, unsure if you were supposed to say something. Rafe’s obvious eye-rolling and silent huffs of frustration beside you made it clear that he’d heard all this a hundred times before. He shifted in his seat, crossing his arms, clearly waiting for his dad to wrap it up.

But Ward wasn’t done yet. He turned his attention back to you, his eyes narrowing slightly. "The point is," he said, his tone softening a little, "I respect people who are willing to work for what they want. I see that in you. It’s not about where you start—it’s about where you’re going."

Rafe let out a short, quiet breath that you might’ve missed if you weren’t sitting right next to him. He shot you a small, knowing smile, almost like he was apologizing for the speech but also relieved that Ward wasn’t being an asshole.

You squeezed his hand under the table. At least his dad wasn’t tearing you down.

"Thanks, Mr. Cameron," you said, finally finding your voice. "I really appreciate that."

He nodded, seeming satisfied with himself. "Just remember," he added, his voice lowering as if he was giving you some kind of life lesson, "Hard work pays off. You keep doing what you’re doing, and you’ll get somewhere. Don’t ever settle, not even for him.”

“Thanks again.”

Rafe looked like he was about to explode from how much he was holding back, but he just gave you a quick wink as if to say, Yeah, this is typical dad, but hey—he likes you, so we’re good.

Ward clapped his hands together, the moment of sincerity quickly passing. "Alright, well, I think dinner’s ready. Shall we?"

He strode ahead, leading the way out of the study and toward the dining room, leaving you and Rafe a few steps behind. The moment he was out of earshot, you looked up at Rave, “You think we’re good?”

He smirked, leaning down slightly to meet your eyes, his tone all teasing. “Baby, I think he might build you a pedestal.” 

You couldn’t help but snort, trying to keep your voice down as you followed Ward. “Really? After that ‘self-made empire’ speech?”

He rolled his eyes dramatically, giving you a knowing look. “Trust me, if you got through that and he didn’t start questioning your entire existence, you’re golden. The man sees himself in anyone who works hard enough to breathe without permission.”

You bit back a laugh, gripping his hand as you walked down the long hallway. “Yeah, I was getting that vibe.”

His grin grew wider, his thumb skimming over your knuckles. “And look, usually, it’s a full-blown interrogation by now. You’re good.”

You raised your eyebrows, slightly surprised. “Really?”

Rafe nodded. “Oh yeah. Sarah’s brought home guys before and it was... rough.” He shook his head, “He actually likes you. That’s rare.”

Maybe things with the Camerons were actually going to be okay.

[nanamincreampie]

College Playboy Toji

Toji Fushiguro x Black plus size reader

Warnings: 18+ mdni, Toji getting a taste of his own medicine, mildly spice, reader being a badass

(part 2)

College playboy Toji who’s the campus legend, known for his smooth charm and the endless string of flings he leaves behind. He’s usually too busy flirting with anyone who’ll give him attention, hanging out with his boys Gojo, Geto, and Sukuna, making snarky jokes, and living up to his reputation. But that all changes the moment he turns his head and sees you.

College playboy Toji who, for the first time, feels his mouth go dry at the sight of you, dressed in a short, tight pink crop top that hugs your curves, and a mini skirt that sits just right on your thick thighs. Your smooth, deep brown skin glows under the party lights, and your afro is styled to perfection, bouncing lightly with each step you take. He’s stunned. That outfit has his mind reeling, the way it clings to every curve, the way your confidence radiates with every sway of your hips. Toji forgets all about his boys, the party, and his typical routine. His eyes are glued to you, and his usual cocky demeanor falters.

College playboy Toji who ditches the conversation with his crew without a second thought, all his attention focused on you. He’s not used to working for a girl’s attention, but something about the way you carry yourself, so effortlessly commanding the room, makes him want to shoot his shot. He approaches you with that signature smirk, already thinking he’s got you figured out. “Hey, I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Toji.”

But college playboy Toji who, for the first time, gets knocked off his pedestal when you barely even glance his way. You cut him off, your tone sharp but nonchalant. “I know who you are, Toji. I’m not interested.” Without giving him the chance to respond, you dismiss yourself, walking off to join your friends on the dance floor, leaving him standing there, dumbfounded and frustrated.

Gojo and Geto, who’ve been watching the whole thing from the sidelines, immediately burst into laughter, clapping him on the back. “You really thought you had that one, huh?” Gojo teases, wiping a tear from his eye. “Man, she didn’t even give you a second look!”

But college playboy Toji who, instead of snapping back, ignores them, his eyes still on you. He’s never been turned down like that, not in a way that leaves him questioning himself. His jaw clenches, watching your plump ass sway as you disappear into the crowd. His usual cockiness is shaken, but instead of being pissed off, he feels something else intrigue. No girl’s ever brushed him off like that, and now, more than ever, he wants you.

Days later, Toji who runs into you again, this time on the campus track field while you’re taking a run. Sweat glistens on your glowing skin, and your curves are even more distracting in your tight spandex shorts and sports bra. He catches up with you, a grin already pulling at his lips, not willing to let you slip away so easily this time. “Hey, you didn’t give me a fair shot back at the party. Why not give me another chance to introduce myself properly?”

College playboy Toji who watches as you slow your jog, but you don’t stop. “I remember, Toji. Still not interested in you  or any of your one-night stands.” Your voice is cool, calm, and it only fuels his determination. His eyes trail down your body, taking in the way those spandex shorts cling to your thighs and the bounce of your ass with every step.

“And what if I wanted more than that?” Toji asks, falling into step beside you, trying to match your pace and your vibe. “What if I’m not just looking for a fling this time?”

College playboy Toji who’s met with your smirk as you toss a glance over your shoulder. Then you’re gonna have to earn it.” With that, you pick up your pace, leaving him behind with a perfect view of your ass as you jog away. He’s left standing there, watching the way those shorts hug your curves and feeling more hooked than ever.

College playboy Toji who bumps into you on campus a few more times after that, and every time, he tries again. He flirts, he teases, but no matter what he tries, you keep your distance, always leaving him wanting more. And it drives him crazy because he’s not used to working this hard for anyone. But every time he catches a glimpse of you, whether you’re walking with your friends or sitting in class, he knows this is more than just a game to him now.

One afternoon, Toji who sees you walking to class, your skirt riding high on your thighs, your hair in a ponytail bouncing with each step. He can’t help himself but jog up to you and your friend, flashing that crooked grin. “You’re making it real hard for me to focus, you know?”

You glance over, unimpressed but amused. “And here I thought focusing wasn’t your strong suit anyway.”

Toji chuckles, falling into step beside you, not ready to give up just yet. “What can I say? You’re a good distraction.” But deep down, he knows—this time, it’s not just about the chase. You’ve gotten under his skin, and the more you push him away, the more he wants to prove himself.

[anyca786]

"WHAT IS THIS PLACE?"

Daemon Targaryen x sister/aunt!Targaryen x Rhaenyra Targaryen

WARNINGS: Canon typical incest/targcest (brother and sister, uncle and niece, aunt and niece) kissing, smut warning: fingering, p in v, poly?, dirty talking etc)

Here's the series

Daemon's eyes lingered on Daenys, who flashed him her infectious smile. She quickly went down the stairs, and the man didn't hesitate to pull her into his arms and kiss her affectionately,

'Uncle," Rhaenyra said, making him aware that she was there too.

"Ah, Rhaenyra." Daemon said, but he shot his niece a smirk that he meant well. Rhaenyra clung onto Daenys's arm like a child, not wanting to let go of her favourite toy.

"Now, where is it that we are going, Uncle?" she questioned. Her eyes lingered towards Daemon, taking in his godly appearance.

"That is for you to see." Daemon smirked when he noticed Rhaenyra was checking him out.

The two Princesses grab onto his arm as he began to lead them out of the Red Keep. The two of them happily walked with him, taking in the commotions in the busy streets.

While Rhaenyra chose to wander and break free from his hold, Daemon moved his arm around Daenys's waist with a strong grip as he led her through the crowd, occasionally placing small kisses on her cheek,

"You both are familiar with the streets walking in daylight where it is peaceful, but at night, it is madness." Daemon said.

Daenys scrunched her nose at the littered streets of Kingslanding and the horrid smell of blood, sex, wine and garbage.

"Are you scared yet?" Daemon's husky voice brushed against her ear, making her feel butterflies when he nibbles on her right ear.

" No," Daenys stated bluntly, but the glint in Daemon's eyes made her wonder if she should be. Daemon then had gotten them drinks, which Rhaenyra did not hesitate to drink in one go while Daenys took small sips, tasting the wine. Her face pitched at the strong taste of it, making the other two Targaryen's laugh.

She tried to grab Daemon's drink only for him to drink the remaining contents. "Hey, Give me that," Daenys whined, a pout resting on her face, making the Rogue Prince melt a bit.

Rhaenyra had chosen to slow down a bit so Daemon and Daenys would catch up. "I've never thought I'd actually sneak out and visit the streets in the middle of the night.. and l'm dressed as a boy." Rhaenyra exclaimed.

"A pretty boy," Daenys added, as she flashed the cutest smile that made Rhaenyra's heart flutter, and Daemon felt soft again.

Rhaenyra was slowly falling for her aunt and surprisingly infatuated by her uncle. From what the Realm delight could tell, Daemon was also in love with her Daenys.

The night continued to follow as it was. Daenys danced with Rhaenyra through the crowd and drank more wine. Rhaenyra happily kissed her on the cheek before pushing her toward Daemon.

He threw his arm around her waist and kissed her pouty lips affectionately, still tasting the wine on them.

A blush fell on Daenys's face as she snuggled close to his embrace and deepened the kiss. Rhaenyra flashed a smile but was envious of their closeness. Daemon was smirking at his niece, practically rubbing it in Rhaenyra's face.

The trio moved their way through the city, stopping at a play happening that the two Princess' found amusing,

"And now we come off the great Iron Chair and whose bum might bear." the actor spoke, making Rhaenyra giggle quietly.

"Our good King, names his daughter, a girl, his heir." The crowd protested at the words of Rhaenyra being named heir. Rhaenyra looked around in sadness while clutching her aunt's hand in shock.

Daemon stands behind Daenys and wraps his arm around her waist, placing his chin on her shoulder as they continue watching the play.

The play continued to make fun of the royal family, Rhaenyra claimed the throne, and how Aegon being the firstborn son should sit on it instead.

Rhaenyra booed. "Lies, slander! Boo!"

"Rhaenyra!" Daenys protested but looked equally infuriated.

"Jest, if you will, but many of the smallfolk are likely to believe as a man, Aegon should be heir," Daemon spoke the truth of reality.

Daenys nodded - knowing a lot of people had the mindset that a woman is not fit for the Iron Throne and how women are only meant to produce heirs, until they can't anymore.

"Their wants are of no consequence," Rhaenyra replied, turning around to leave.

Daemon chuckled, grabbing Daenys's hand. They followed her, "They're of great consequence if you expect to rule them one day."

"For one night, I wish to be free of the burdens of my inheritance," Rhaenyra said longingly. Her eyes scanned the surroundings, and then she decided it would be a good idea to steal something from the vendor.

As Daenys chased after her niece, laughing, she didn't expect her to run into Ser Harwin and Sir Criston

"And what are you doing here, Princess Daenys?" Ser Criston's voice raised a bit, seeing her wandering alone at night. "It is not safe to be out here this late without protection. Someone could hurt you." Sir Harwin said to both the princesses.

As if on cue, Damon appeared with a light sigh of relief when he saw Daenys along with Rhaenyra, Sir Criston recognizing Daemon let out a grumble and then stared deep into Daenys eye's which made the pit of jealousy erupt in Rhaenyra's stomach.

"Next time you won't be so lucky, boy," Sir Harwin said to Rhaenyra, deciding to go along with her disguise.

Sir Criston leaned closer to Daenys and whispered, " Careful out there," and then both the knights disappeared into the streets.

When they left, Daemon came up, "Enjoyed that, didn't you?" Daemon asked, wearing a teasing smile. But there was a hidden look in his eye at the display he had just seen. Daenys wrapped her arms around Rhaenyra's neck, pulling her close. "Do not pull that shit again."

Rhaenyra relaxed in her embrace and smiled mischievously, "Who knows when l'll next get this kind of freedom?"

Daenys let out a laugh. Together, Daenys walked in the middle, swaddled to Daemon's side while intertwining her hands with Rhaenyra, walking deeper into the alleyways to their next unknown destination.

While they continued their walk, the shrill moans of women, laughter, and voices grew further into the streets they'd walked when Daemon had finally led the girls to his favourite place where he'd go whenever he wanted to escape from his responsibilities.

Daneys's cheeks flustered at what she was seeing. She knew Daemon would come here often since he was very young.

Rhaenyra's eyes wandered curiously, eyes training dancers and many occupants in the room with barely any clothes on. Her eyes fell on the two women in the corner of the room, kissing and hands touching one another in scandalous places.

By now, Daemon had shed off his cloak, and his messy silver hair showed and wore a white tunic. "Come."

"Daemon," Daenys stopped him, "I don't think it's a good idea," she said concerned.

'What is this place?" Rhaenyra asked quite bewitched by the scenes happening around them

"It's a um.. pleasure house...," Daenys murmured, still nervous. Daemon held a faint smirk, seeing Daenys crimson cheeks.

"Fucking is a pleasure you see....," Daemon spoke cruelly, his raspy voice had made Daenys swoon a bit at the way he whispered in her ear. His hands held her waist tightly, drawing circles with his fingers. Daemon leaned closer and placed a kiss on her neck, sucking that area for a bit.

Daenys breathing increased as she closed her eyes from the feeling, but not before peering over at Rhaenyra, who was staring at them intently in utmost desire.

Daenys felt incredibly hot despite the chillin' the air. He pulled her closer, almost like she was a moth against the light.

"..From fucking who we want." Daemon continued as he slid a finger down her jawline.

He had now led them to a sheer curtained area. There were naked men and women piled in the room. Heavy breaths and moans could be heard, and the smell of sex was everywhere around in the air.

Daemon continued to lead Daenys into another room, guiding her from behind. "Whether it would be a man or a woman - or even both." his eyes lingered on Rhaenyra, who was momentarily staring at the men and women pleasuring each other with their mouths and fingers.

"D-Daemon?" Daenys was about to speak, but when he pressed his lips onto hers, she let out a soft moan. Before she could register anything, she could feel Rhaenyra's hands yank her away from Daemon, allowing her to crash her lips against Daenys. The two girls moaned softly, lost in the sensation of their lips against each other.

Daemon admired the scene in front of him, but he craved attention. He had dragged both of them and pressed Daenys up against the stone wall.

Daenys let out a noise of protest but begrudgingly went back to kissing Rhaenyra, who happily accepted and began placing kisses down her neck, to her upper breast.

Daenys knew that once they had stepped inside into the pleasure house, their reputation would be tarnished. However, she knew that as long as she kept her hair covered, she would at least be saved.

Seeing the lustful expression on Daemon's face, Daenys got on her toes and kissed him this time, landing her hands on his shoulders. He slid his finger down her jawline before cupping her chin, deepening the kiss.

He pulled away and, this time, focused his attention on Rhaenyra - beginning to untie the knots of Rhaenyra's trousers and letting them fall to the ground.

Daemon's large body shielded the two girls from any watchers. Daenys spun around and frantically pressed her mouth against Rhaenyra's again.

Rhaenyra had ripped her cloak successfully before tugging on the drawstrings of Daenys's dress, revealing her full breast. Daenys shivered at the cool air, hitting her exposed skin.

The prince eagerly turned her around and brought her closer, taking in the sight of her exposed breasts before moulding his lips on her pink nipples. He then looked back with his purple-eyed princess.

His eyes trained on Rhaenyra, who watched them with fascinated lustful eyes watching her uncle lift her aunt's gown to her thighs before feeling her cunt.

Daemon let out a groan when he entered his fingers inside her cunt. A loud moan escaped Daenys's mouth, throwing her head against his shoulder.

"Fuck you're soaking, my love" Daemon felt himself getting hard when her moans got louder as he began to pump inside of her.

Taking in her sweaty, flustered appearance, "So perfect for me. You are everything l want," he purred.

The way she was pressed up against him, her breasts now bare against his chest. He wrapped his other arm around her to from collapsing while the other continued to finger her harder.

"Daemon," Daenys whimpered, "Please, do not stop,' she begged. He leaned back to take a sharp breath. "Do not say things you don't mean or I wouldn't be able to control myself."

Daenys grabbed his hand and pulled it further above her wet cunt. "I wish for Rhaenyra, too." she tried to speak but was cut off with he pinched her. The Princess let out a squeak and tried to move, only for him to smack her arse.

Daemon kissed her cheek and continued to rub circles up to her clit mercilessly.

He looked at Rhaenyra before gesturing to come closer, "Our beloved wants you, Rhaenyra"

"Rhaenyra," Daenys moaned out, and the younger Princess walked forward eagerly and cupped her face, placing a soft kiss on Daenys's lips.

Daenys's hand travelled down Rhaenyra's legs to feel her glistening core and let out a gasp. Daenys's unravelled from Daemon's grasp and went to her niece's arms.

Yet Daemon continued to work his way under her dress. The older princess arched her back when Rhaenyra started to plant wet kisses down her chest and sucking her nipples. The Heir's teeth scraped over her erect nipples making Daenys whimper out load.

"Nyra." Daenys chanted as her hands weaved into Rhaenyra's hair. She didn't care about the consequences anymore. She wanted pleasure. She wanted Daemon and Rhaenyra.

Rhaenyra nestled against her chest and peered up at her aunt like she was a goddess, "You're gorgeous. The most beautiful woman in the realm. The Realm's Beauty"

Daenys's eyes glazed at her words. Rhaenyra desperately wanted her aunt to take her then and now.

Before Rhaenyra could command Daemon, he stepped away. It was like Daemon had realized where he was and who he was with, and what he was doing. He had removed his fingers from Daenys's clit, earning a painful cry of protest from her, "Daemon, what the fuck."

There was a troubled expression in Daemon's eyes before giving them one last look before leaving them.

Daenys tugged down her dress with red stained cheeks adorning her face. Her lips were swollen and felt cold. She felt empty when Daemon no longer pleasured her.

Daenys did not bother to wait for Rhaenyra. Instead, she chased after Daemon to yell at him, leaving Rhaenyra on her own.

🥀

Daenys breath become heavy as she walked around the Brothel in search of Daemon. Men and women eyed her, semi naked form like a hunter eyeing its prey.

"I would pay for that blonde with all my gold," someone announced. Daenys pulled out her hidden dagger, from her thigh strap. Heavy footsteps followed her, turning back ready to attack-

"Fuck!" She exclaimed, dropping her dagger and releasing a shaky sigh. " Daemon!"

Surprised by her frightened form, he walks slowly to where she stands. "What's going on?" He asks.

"I thought..." But Daenys couldn’t get the words out of her mouth. She let out a sob,"I thought..someone," she tried

"Shh. It's okay." Daemon takes her in his arms. She buries her face onto his shoulder, his cologne hitting me with every breath.

He strokes her hair and kisses the top of her head. Daenys couldn't take it anymore. Her body's so jacked up at this point on adrenaline, anger, lust, and tension that she act without thinking.

She pulled his head towards her and pressed her lips against his. He kissed her back, his lips firm against her.

Daenys kissed him harder, aggressively holding his body close to her own as she dissolved against him, her Prince, her Daemon, her brother, her lover.

Daemon understands how badly his babysister needs him. The tip of his tongue traces her lips, and she parted her lips for him, tasting him, tasting the wine on his lips.

He takes control, moving her backwards and pins her to the nearest wall with his hips. His hands graze across her body, and shivers run down Daenys's spine.

She let out whimper into his mouth as a dull ache resurface between her legs, and he takes her bottom lip between his teeth. "Are you sure about this?" He asks

Daenys nodded, locking her arms around his neck. He bends down and lifts her effortlessly from the ground. His hair is soft between her fingers.

He carries her to a door, a secluded room in the Brothel. She expected him to take her to the bed, but was shocked when he sat her on a smooth, polished wooden table instead.

"Tell me," he says, ripping the gown of her body completely. "If I put my hand between your thighs right now, how wet would you be for me?"

"Why don't you find out," I say bravely, a smirk plastered on my lips. But he doesn't just put his hand there. He sinks to his knees, spreading her thighs apart with his hands.

Daenys was exposed, breathless, and shaking for him.

"Please, " she whispered.

"Begging for me already?" Daemon smirked, his fingers brush against her clit as she crys out.

'Fuck," he groans, rubbing slow, torturous circles around her wet cunt. Daenys's head drops back in bliss, and he moves lower, dipping his finger inside of her, just barely at first.

He teases her until she can't take it any longer and then pushes deeper, while her cunt tighten and clench around his finger, over and over again.

"Such a tight little cunt," he says.

She whimpered his name," Umm.. Daemon, " and finally he takes her in his mouth. His tongue flicks over her clit. Daenys forgets how to breathe as everything was clenching inside of her. She quivered against him.

As if it wasn't already torturous enough, he pushes two fingers inside of her, and she crys out as he sucks and fucks her with his hands.

Everything grows and peaks, and her fingers link through his hair as she comes undone around him, almost sobbing as she calls out his name.

His thumb brushes reassuringly where he holds her waist, the gesture somehow more intimate than his face buried into her, and he pulls away

"My good girl," he tells her, praising her"| wanted to make sure you come before I fuck you."

He now carries her to the bed. Heat and excitement flood through her body once more. She unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it from his shoulders.

Her eyes widen as he pulls his cock free. It's long and hard, thick with veins, and she wonders how she'll be able to take it all again.

"Don't worry," he says. "I'll be gentle this time," he said.

Daenys holds his jaw with one hand. "Maybe I don't want you to be."

He rubs his tip against her, grunting at her wetness, "You're going to wish you hadn't said that." Without any warning, he enters inside of her with one long thrust.

Daenys crys out, stretched wide, with all of him buried inside of her. He stays there, muttering something in High Valyrian, his eyes scanning her face for any sign of pain.

She clenched around him, "Fuck," he groans, eyes rolling back. "You okay, my love?"

She nodded. He kissed her hungrily as he begins to fuck her mercilessly. Her body jolts from the hard force, the headboard slamming onto the wall behind them with each stroke.

Daenys tightened her grip on him as he plunged into her faster and deeper. Relentlessly, he pounds her until her legs were shaking, and she couldn't hold it back any longer.

'Are vou going to come for me already, princess?" He asks.

"Yes, " she lets out a breathless whimper.

"You're such a good fucking girl. Taking my dick, so well, Princess." He said as he drills into her.

The orgasm rips through her. The intensity is unfathomable as her back arches, and she falls apart while he buries himself into her, groaning at his own release inside of her.

Daemon leans into her while she tries to recover. They pull apart, their lips brushing. Daenys mind did wonder off to Rhaenyra for a second worrying about her,

"We left Rhaenyra all alone," Daenys panicked,

Daemon wraps her in the blanket and nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck, sighing at the feeling of her in his arms. "I'm sure she'll find her way back to the castle,"

A pang of guilt surfaced Daenys, but eventually, they both fell asleep, unaware of the disaster they would have to face in the morning.

A/N: Got shit ton of assignments, and the deadline is near☹️ Pray for me.

Anyways, I'm open to ideas and suggestions- help your girl out.

[nativegirltapes]

⸻ ┊͙ overhearing rafe and barry talking about you !

warnings: bad girls club, mentions of fingering, rafe and barry being freaks. reupload from my old acc ! not proofread cuz i am lazy !!

rafe and barry had been blowing up your phone all day, asking if you wanted to come over to barry's trailer and smoke a blunt with them, your shared groupchat with both of them was very rarely ever dry.

smoking with them usually was kind of boring, you'd all get high and then they'd start talking about some stupid shit that you had no interest in and then you'd threaten to leave, and they'd beg you to stay a little longer. but today you felt like getting some attention from your two favorite boys.

you finished final touches, putting on your favorite mini denim skirt and tossing on one of rafe's hoodies he'd left over from a few nights ago and headed outside to the door to the uber that rafe had paid for.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ 🍰 ⟡˖ ࣪

just as you were about to walk into barry's trailer you dropped your lipgloss. bending over to pick it up, you could hear rafe and barry talking about you through the screen door. you stopped in your tracks to listen, you always wondered what they said about you when you weren't there.

"she let me finger her once." you heard barry say, immediately getting flash back to the night when rafe left barry's early, leaving you and barry alone at his trailer.

"you're fucking lying." rafe scoffed, setting the shared blunt down in the ashtray on the coffee table in front of him, taken aback by what barry said. he had to be lying, you were untouchable in his head, but there you were letting yours and his bestfreind touch you? "when?" rafe questioned, sitting back on the couch.

"why the fuck would i lie bruh?" barry copied rafe's moments, now too laid back on the couch, both of them forgetting about the blunt on the table in front of them. "she was all begging for it and shit."

rafe chuckled to himself. you? the beggar type? he didn't see that coming. when he thought about how you were in bed, you figured you would be the demanding and bratty type, because of how you talked to him and barry; always bossing someone around. but there you were begging for some dick. the thought of it made his dick grow hard. "when was this?"

"i dont know man, few weeks ago." barry scratched his head. you knew barry and rafe were practically bestfreinds, although they'd never say that, but you didn't think barry would go tell rafe your business.

"wow." rafe raised his eyebrows, partly still surprised, but mainly jealous. why were you letting barry touch you and not him? it didn't make sense.

you'd gotten down right nasty with rafe over messages before, too many times to count on both hands, but you never let him finger you or touch you. why?

"hi guys." you opened the door, walking up the trailer stairs, your short skirt riding up your thighs.

"there she is," barry grabbed the blunt back, trying to act occupied, like him and rafe weren't just talking about you. "our girl."

"what have you guys been up to?" you took a seat right next to rafe, so close to him that you were basically sitting on his lap. you confused him so much, did you want him or barry?

rafe wrapped his arm around you, bringing you somehow even closer to him. "just waiting around for the princess."

[rotthepoet]

Can you do a Draco smut where him and f!reader are getting it on his room and Blaise wakes up to see them about to fuck and he asks to watch. Reader is surprisingly down for it and Draco’s ego is bigger than a fucking elephant so he fucks you in front of Blaise. Not a threesome with Blaise, just him being a perv lmao

BABES IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK A MONTH TO GET OUT!!! I WASNT IGNORING YOU TRUST. I made a few changes to your request because @2dloveshp and I have been talking about Stalker!Blaise and im about to start dropping content for him 😻

Let me set the scene for you. Draco Malfoy, your wonderful, doting, egotistical boyfriend, has decided what he wants right now: is you! So trust he’s dragging you away from your friends, mid conversation, mumbling about how its his turn for attention. But oh shit, when Draco’s dorm is supposed to be empty, you’ll never guess whose there minding his fuckin business nose deep in homework. Draco’s best friend, Blaise, of course.

And gonna be real with you, Blaise doesnt even register when the two of you walk in. It takes a solid minute of Draco pushing you into bed despite your whines about there being company that he snaps back into reality.

Draco doesnt give a shit, lowkey he brags to Blaise all the time about how good you are in bed that he doesnt really care if he sees?? Ngl the Slytherin boys prob have a groupchat where they share nudes because i think theyre all just a bunch of chavs in disguise.

Anyways! Draco is not stopping and god when he’s feeling you up like this? You’re just falling apart. No more complaints as long as draco fucks you soon.

But god the way you moan is so fucking pretty. And blaise can feel himself hardening under the desk, and fuck he’s had a crush on Draco’s girl(you) for so fucking long now.

He cant help but take note on what makes you feel good. His homework becomes a page filled with notes on how you react to each of Dracos touches. How you arch when he suckles a spot on your neck. How you mewl when he pulls your hair. One hand is furiously writing each observation while his other hand palms his boner.

And fuck he nearly chokes when Draco goes down on you, watching the way your pussy glistens with your arousal, the way you keen and beg for more and less at the same time.

He’s fucking obsessed with you. The only problem is Draco, and it shouldn’t be that hard to get rid of him.

[highinmiamiii]

NO FEELINGS - ch. 1

a billy butcher x reader story

years after a wild love in 90s London, Butcher runs into his past flame at that same grimy Nevada steakhouse he’d told Hughie about. Where he’d wanted to go with Len since they were lads. Tension, unspoken history, and unresolved feelings simmer as both grapple with what they've become.

(A/N): this is just a short little vague introduction. feedback is appreciated as always—let me know what you think! and if you’d like to be added to the taglist, just drop a comment. thank you for the support, i cannot wait to get really started on this. prelude chapter set in 90s london soon…

Butcher slid into the worn leather booth of the topless steakhouse, the place he’d told Hughie about. The one he’d always wanted to visit with Lenny. He wasn't sure what drove him here now, maybe the weight of unfinished promises, or the itch of an unfinished life, maybe a celebration for finally having the key to end this all. Kessler—his ever-present darker conscience—sneered from across the table, leaning back like he owned the place.

“Celebratin', are we? Makin’ a toast to not being a dead man... yet?" Kessler’s voice dripped with sarcasm. “Maybe crack a cold one open to that virus, eh? Damn good reason to have a drink.”

Butcher ignored him, waving down the waitress instead. The place smelled of grease, burnt meat, and the faint, familiar scent of desperation—Nevada in all its glory. The steakhouse was a dive. Dim lights, gaudy neon signs, waitresses in barely-there outfits serving patrons who barely looked alive. It felt appropriate, a place where he could fade into the noise and booze.

His mind kept drifting back to Lenny, to the promises they made as boys. But Lenny was long gone, and Butcher was still here. Breathing. Existing. Barely.

“What’s the point, mate?” Kessler drawled, a smug grin tugging at his lip. “You’ve come this far, might as well end it on a high note. Wipe ‘em all out—‘every last one’ like ya said, whoever’s left. Ain’t no room for savin’ the day, Billy. That ain’t you.”

Butcher lit a cigarette, ignoring the imaginary weight of Kessler's presence. He hadn’t come to make decisions tonight—he just needed a moment to exist outside the war he was fighting, the war inside himself.

That’s when the waitress appeared. He barely looked up from his drink as she spoke. A raspy, tired voice offered him a menu, but it wasn’t her voice that caught him—it was the ink on her arm.

There, on her inner upper arm, was a faded “Never Mind the Bollocks” tattoo. The same damn Sex Pistols tattoo he’d drunkenly convinced the girl who he’d thought would be the love of his life to get years ago in London.

The memories hit him like a punch in the gut.

🇬🇧 London, 1990s 🇬🇧

They’d met at some dive punk show, a dingy pub filled with misfits, and she had been the loudest voice in the room. She wasn’t British, that much was clear. Her accent, her defiance—everything about her screamed rebellion. She’d saved for years just to get to London, to live the life she’d always dreamed of. But the reality was different. Money was tighter, dreams crumbled under the weight of the city’s indifference, and the romantic notion of freedom faded with every job rejection and overpriced rent.

Butcher had been drawn to her fire—an American girl with grungy style and stubborn resolve. She reminded him of himself. Bold. Fearless. But unlike him, she still had a dream. That dream had kept her going.

They’d spent nights stumbling through the streets of Camden, getting drunk on cheap lager, ranting about the world’s injustices. And then one night, after too many drinks and too many laughs, he’d dragged her to a tattoo parlor.

“Go on then, love, don’t be a priss, get the ink. Bollocks to it,” he’d slurred. And she had. The tattoo was a reminder of their wild nights, of a time when the world felt theirs to conquer.

But then Lenny had died. His world crumbled. Butcher became a ghost of himself. He stopped answering her calls. Stopped showing up. Not because he didn’t love her—but because the weight of grief suffocated any connection he’d had to the world, to her. Seasons faded, savings ran out, friend groups grew apart and suddenly she was back in the states, no sign of his presence or existence in sight but the small reminder of what they had, or rather, what could’ve been, on her left arm.

He looked up at her now, and something in his chest tightened. She didn’t recognize him—not immediately. He looked different. Older. Weathered. And she? She’d aged too, but there was still a flicker of that fire behind her eyes, dulled perhaps, but not gone.

Butcher felt Kessler smirking at him from across the table, his voice low and mocking. “Well, well... Looks like fate’s a real bastard, huh? Fancy seeing her here. What’s next, a reunion? Gonna sweep her off her feet again? You ain’t that guy anymore, Billy. We both know it”

He wasn’t. He couldn’t be.

The waitress set his drink down, her expression neutral, maybe a little bored. But her eyes lingered on him for a second too long. Butcher’s gut twisted. Did she know? Or was it just a flicker of memory, a hint of recognition buried beneath the years?

He offered her a smirk. “Nice ink.”

she cocks her head back, taking a long deep breath, knowing he’s likely noticed by now as much as she didn’t want him to. she’d spent so long trying to erase him from my memory, she felt so foolish for letting myself fall so deeply in love with him all those years ago. she rests her hand on her hip and adjust the very thin white tank top they had her working in, thank god no one had tipped me enough to take it off yet, this place was fucking dehumanizing. even more embarrassing to see butcher here after all these years, she never thought she’d see him again, thought they’d be separated by continent for the rest of time. Her eyes flashed, but she didn’t bite. “Old mistake,” she said, her voice clipped, as if daring him to say more.

“Looks like she remembers,” Kessler snickered in his head.

Butcher leaned back, taking a slow drag from his cigarette. “Aren’t we all just walkin’ mistakes?” He said with a deep sigh.

She didn’t answer, just shot him a look—a look with all the bitter undertones he deserved. But she didn’t say a word, and as she walked away, he could feel the weight of the past settling in the pit of his stomach.

“Last thing she wants is to hear from you again man” Kessler’s voice taunted in his ear.

Maybe. But for the first time in years, Butcher wasn’t sure he wanted to.

She walked away, heart pounding. She knew. God, she knew the moment she saw him. Those goddamn eyes and stupid cocky wide smirk she’d fallen for all those years ago. The snarky demeanor that kept her going until one day he was gone. The way his eyes widened when he saw the tattoo was a dead giveaway, but it was the way he carried himself—the same stoicism, the same haunted look behind those eyes. Billy Butcher, of course. Great.

She’d spent years trying to forget. And now here he was, like some ghost from the past, sitting in the sleaziest steakhouse in Nevada, looking like death warmed over. Part of her wanted to slap him, to scream at him for leaving, for abandoning her without a word after Lenny’s death. But she knew she had gotten too attached. It’d been what, a year together? How dumb of her to think or believe that it would’ve ever been more than a fling. She had to come back to America eventually, they both knew the jig would be up soon, she just hadn’t expected it to end so abruptly.

So instead, she swallowed the lump in her throat, wiped the grimy table next to his, and said nothing.

This wasn’t London. She wasn’t the girl she used to be. She’d been young, stupid, and hopelessly in love. Now she was just... tired. Working for tips in a place that smelled like old beer and regret, serving men who didn’t care enough to look her in the eye. This was what her life had come to. And seeing Butcher again only twisted the knife deeper.

But no. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing how much he’d hurt her. Not yet. Not ever.

Butcher watched her walk away, a strange heaviness settling over him. The memories of London were sharp, but the reality in front of him was sharper. She’d changed. So had he.

“So what now?” Kessler whispered. “Stick around? See if you can fuck things up again? You’re real good at that, ain’t ya?”

Maybe. But something in him, something deep and stubborn, made him want to stay. Maybe it was guilt. Maybe it was something worse. Whatever it was, Butcher wasn’t leaving Nevada. Not yet.

He crushed his cigarette in the ashtray, his eyes following her as she disappeared into the back. Whatever had brought him here tonight—fate, coincidence, or just bad fucking luck—he wasn’t walking away from it.

Not this time.

current tags: @sickforbillybutcher

[lostalioth]

𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬

→ premise: there existed no such cricumstances in which dean doesnt want your lips against his. bloodied, bruised, even with broken bones, a kiss from his girl makes it all better.

→ pairing: dean winchester x fem!reader

→ warnings: tw: blood, fluff, but some sort of instense making out, established relationship, blood, descriptions of blood and injuries, blood in mouth, nicknames [baby, sweetheart, my girl], reader is described a bit to have anxiety

→ a/n: as always i hope dean isn’t too out of character as i have never written for him! enjoy my loves :) and sorry its short.

A hunt had gone south they got the monster and it was done but Dean was injured, they were headed back to the bunker. That was all Sam spit out over the phone, normally you appreciated his ability to get straight to the point. Currently you were cursing it as he hung up shortly after cause he was the one driving back. You had a million and one questions running through your head and more than half of them weren’t good.

This was the part of the boys going off hunting and you saying back that you hated the most. When one of them got hurt or something went wrong and all you could do was sit there, a chill running down your spine as your blood boiled in your veins, anxiously pacing the living room, trying to not let yourself jump to the worst conclusions which you regularly failed to do.

You used to go on hunts with them and instead of you currently being the one riddle with anxiety, it was Dean. Once the two of you pulled your heads out of your asses (as Sam would say) and realized you’ve had feelings for each other for years, you got together. Being officially together seemed to make Dean's protective nature increase tenfold. He was even more terrified to lose you now than before. He began fussing over you whenever you'd get even the slightest scarpe or bump on a hunt. He would glue himself to your side the whole duration. Forcing you to normally stay back in the motel room when the hunt turned into a more dangerous situation than dean cared to put you in.

You loved Dean but it began to get a bit too tedious to deal with and even Sam made a comment on how overprotective he was being. In an attempt to make hunts go easier and ease your boyfriend's anxiety, once you all situated yourselfs in the bunker you suggested to him that you go out on hunts less, especially when they could now take Cas. Dean jumped at the suggestion but you couldn't blame him.

“I think that's a great idea baby” he said with a kiss to your forehead.

You still helped out, researching things when Sam needed the help, going through old books and files in the library, patching them up when they’d come back with cuts and bruises. You hadn't realized just how jittery you'd be however stuck in the bunker when he was out and especially when they went on far away hunts.

They'd go to the hospital when things were really bad, so you knew if the boys were on their way back then it couldn’t be too bad. The reminder did nothing to sooth your racing thoughts, your heart thumping so hard you could practically hear it pounding in your ears. You didn't know just how long you've been pacing back and forth, too afraid to look up at the clock and realize it's only been a few minutes since Sam called.

You don't hear the sound of baby pulling into the garage, your head is too clouded as you were damn near about to wear a grove down into the old floors. The sound of a door shutting loudly and two sets of heavy footsteps are heard down the hallway. Spinning so quickly on your feet you nearly lose your balance you turn to face the noise. Watching as the brothers emerge from the dark hall, Dean's arm rests on Sam's shoulder almost using him like a human crutch. You let out a small gasp making them stop and both of their eyes snap up to yours, whether you gasped in surprise at the state of your boyfriend or in relief you can’t tell.

“Hi sweetheart, We’re home” Dean tilts his head, his voice laced with his usual sarcasm and deep tone. He pushes off of Sam, clearly able to at least stand on his own, slowly making his way over to you a small limp in his step.

In the blink of an eye you’re rushing into his arms, your soft hands grabbing ahold of his beaten up face and crashing your lips against his. He grunts out a “fuck” in surprise or pain the word dying in his throat turning into a noise as his eyes fall shut and he grabs ahold of your hips. With a sharp tug he pulls your body as close as he can to his, his hands sliding up your sides. His bloodied lips against your plush ones, kissing you like a man starved, a kiss you’ve come accustomed to when he comes home from longer hunts. “Missed you” he hums in a hushed tone into the kiss for only you to hear, making your racing heart only speed up. His blood flows into your opened mouth as the kiss goes on, the metallic taste on your tongue foreign but you were far too relieved he was back in one piece to care about the blood coating your tongue.

Any pain Dean felt after the whole ordeal and from the bumpy ride back to the bunker seemed to fade from his body. He could care less about his brother's presence still in the room or the blood still dripping from his face and that covered his clothes or his split lip. It felt as if all the bruises that were forming on his body were already being kissed away as your soft lips slid against his. The taste of your mouth overcoming the taste of the blood in his, your scent calming his body, reminding him he's finally home again. Your body grounding him.

A rough deep cough stops the moment making the two of you reluctantly pull away, lips swollen and parted as you catch your breath.

“Before this gets any more R-rated maybe we should patch him up and you know clean him up” Sam suggested with a small light hearted chuckle as he walks off to the bathroom to get the first aid kit. You were grateful you remembered just yesterday that it had needed to be restocked. “Sorry Sammy” Dean calls after him, you turn your head away and follow up with a “Sorry not sorry” down the hall after him making a small smirk grow on your boyfriend's face.

Once he's out of eye sight, Dean grabs ahold of your face by lightly squeezing your cheeks and turns your head back to face him. Leaning down to begin softly kissing you again, groaning against your lips when the pain in his body begins to return.

“Who needs a first aid kit, all i need is my girl's kisses” He mumbled softly against your mouth, making you break out into a smile. A small tear slips down your cheek, your breath returning to your lungs and the chill in your spine fading as relief finally settling over your body knowing he's okay.

→ a/n: if you enjoyed please reblog or send me some dean requests id love to write more for him!

[snowydoesitall]

✨movie night with the hidden inventory gc✨

*:･ﾟ✧cast: gojo, geto, shoko, utahime, nanami, and haibara

✧summary: a one shot of the hidden inventory friend group’s movie night

♡a/n: i’m back!!! guys please appreciate my efforts with this one this took me several attempts to post and way longer than usual to write

ྀིwarnings: language; gojo and geto are their own warnings atp; no beta we die like suguru’s tea mug

after the discussion regarding which movie they were planning to watch that night had ended, you wrapped up whatever homework you had left before changing into more comfortable clothes and heading to shoko’s dorm a bit early to help her set up.

upon arriving, you find that utahime had the same idea as she was currently standing by the microwave waiting for a bag of popcorn to finish cooking.

shoko was at her laptop, looking perplexed, so you walked over to her to see if she needed help.

“i’ve been trying to get into our disney+ account so i can stream cars onto the tv, but it keeps saying that the password is incorrect”, she explains. “did gojo change the password again?”

“i don’t think so…did you put the question mark at the end?”

shoko paused for a moment before typing something into the password bar. sure enough, the app finally let her in.

she stared at her laptop in disbelief for a solid minute before responding.

“huh, that seemed to do it. thanks.”

you nodded, chuckling lightly, before walking over to utahime, who was microwaving what appeared to be the fifth bag of popcorn.

“damn, do we really need that much popcorn?”, you asked.

“if it were just us girls i would’ve stopped at three or four. but there’s going to be seven of us, and you know how gojo is with snacks”, she responded.

“good point.”

the two of you continued to chat for a bit, shoko joining in once she finished setting up the movie.

eventually, the boys finally showed up with a couple snacks as well as a few bottles of soda, which they set on the counter.

“alright, that’s everyone. shall we start the movie?”, shoko asked.

everyone agreed, grabbing a couple snacks and drinks before settling themselves on either the couch or the floor in front of the tv as shoko presses play on the remote to behind the movie.

as the movie played on, the room was filled with all sorts of chaos. for starters, gojo would not stop quoting lines from the movie, which, while slightly annoying, was tolerable. eventually haibara joined in for a bit, seeing as he’d watched that movie at least a hundred times.

it eventually got tiring though, especially once gojo started quoting lines from completely different movies, and so geto ended up lightly tapping him on the shoulder to get him to stop.

speaking of those two, once gojo’s focus had shifted to his boyfriend, the two of them were practically glued to each other with how close they were. this didn’t exactly surprise you, since gojo is the king of being clingy, especially around geto, and the latter of the two never minded it despite not being super clingy himself.

“alright, you two need to either get a room or stop making out on my floor, because some of us are trying to watch the god damn movie”, shoko complained after about ten minutes of their behavior.

“i mean i’m not opposed to- ow!”

whatever gojo was planning to say next was cut off by you smacking him from the couch.

“making out during a disney movie is crazy, you two”, you stated.

“fair point”, geto responded, lightly shoving gojo off his lap, to the latter’s dismay.

nonetheless, the two of them settled down after a while, so your attention shifted back to the movie.

about halfway through, you started feeling tired, which made sense seeing as it was getting kind of late and you’d had a pretty long day. all the same, you did your best to stay awake, as things in the movie were starting to get real interesting.

you reached into one of the popcorn bowls to grab a few pieces to keep yourself awake. in doing so, your hand brushed against another hand, causing you to pause.

you glanced at nanami, who had reached into the popcorn bowl at the same time you did. the two of you sat there for a moment, neither one lifting your hands from the bowl.

after what seemed like a couple minutes, you finally lifted your hand out of the bowl, a few pieces in your hand.

“looks like we had the same idea”, you remarked with a laugh, popping a piece of popcorn into your mouth.

“looks like it”, nanami responded, a small smile forming on his face as he too grabbed a few pieces of popcorn.

you heard a cough, so you turned to see utahime staring at the two of you, a knowing smile on her face. you stared back at her, hinting for her to back off.

eventually, towards the end of the movie, you were getting more and more tired, to the point where even popcorn wasn’t enough to keep you awake. the last thing you remember before dozing off was the start of the final race.

you woke up slowly to someone gently shaking you awake.

“hey guys, time to wake up, movie just ended”, haibara stated.

you took a glimpse of your surroundings, noticing that the nearly-empty bowl of popcorn had now toppled onto the floor, spilling a few kernels. you then noticed that you’d fallen asleep leaning against nanami, who in turn had fallen asleep against the armrest of the couch.

haibara was standing in front of the two of you, currently trying to wake up nanami, who was still sound asleep against the armrest. you sat up quickly, hoping that he hadn’t noticed you dozing off on him, but you figured he must’ve since the second you got up was when he finally woke up, slightly dazed and tense as he glanced around the room, presumably to find where you’d gone.

once he noticed you sitting next to him, he let out a sigh of relief, looking more relaxed.

“you okay, man?”, haibara asked, looking slightly confused.

nanami turned to face the brown-haired boy, looking as if he’d just noticed his presence.

“oh, sorry…i’m fine, just…it’s nothing.”

you and haibara looked at him suspiciously, feeling that it wasn’t just “nothing”, but didn’t pry.

“i’m fine, you two. seriously.”

you opened your mouth to say something, but before you could, you heard shoko calling for the three of you.

“hey! are you two sleepyhead lovers and hai going to help me clean up or what?”

“the WHAT?”, you exclaimed, looking at shoko with an mixed expression of shock and confusion all at once. meanwhile, haibara was looking like he was trying not to laugh while nanami was awkwardly looking around the room, trying to avoid eye contact, a twinge of pink starting to show on his face.

“nothing! don’t worry about it, now come help us clean up!”

you signed, knowing you weren’t going to get a legitimate answer from her, at least not right now, so you got up from the couch and started cleaning up, the other two boys following suit.

but as you were clearing up the kitchen, you couldn’t help but think about what shoko said.

lovers?, you thought to yourself. but how could that be? we’re just friends, after all…

but then you started to look more into it, moments of the night playing through your mind. the small smile he gave you when your hand brushed against his earlier, the way neither of you pulled away immediately, his slight blush at shoko’s jab at the two of you, the way he rose up from his sleep the second he no longer felt your presence, all of it.

the more and more you thought about it, the more and more you realized that perhaps the other girls had a point.

“you okay?”

you snapped back into reality as you turned to face nanami, who was looking at you with concern.

“yeah, i’m fine, just…tired”, you tell him, giving him a reassuring smile.

you weren’t entirely sure if nanami believed you, but he didn’t show it if he didn’t.

“i see. anyway, the others are planning to crash here for the night. the cleaning’s pretty much done if you wanted to head to bed.”

sleep did sound pretty nice right then and there, so you nodded.

“yeah, that might be a good idea, it is pretty late…”

the two of you headed back to the living room space. nanami returned to his spot on shoko’s couch, leaning against the armrest, while you sat next to him and tried to fall asleep sitting upwards, not wanting to invade his personal space nor accidentally wake up haibara, who had taken up the other side of the couch.

“there’s no way that’s comfortable”, nanami remarked as he noticed your attempts.

“sorry, didn’t want to intrude or anything”, you replied.

“i didn’t mind the first time, why would i mind now?”, he asked. “make yourself comfortable. i promise i don’t mind.”

with that, you hesitantly went back to leaning against nanami, finding him a lot more comfortable than trying to sleep sitting up.

before long, you were finally starting to fall asleep. you felt an arm gently wrap itself around you, and while you certainly didn’t expect it, you didn’t try to pull away, nor did you feel uncomfortable. instead, you felt at ease, like this was natural, almost.

by the time sleep came to take you away for the night, you were pretty certain that nanami had some sort of feelings for you.

hell, at this point, you were starting to think that you did, too.

oh god this ended up longer than i expected😭

♫tag list: @ofcqdesi @duwangdays

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[lostsyren]

ᯓ★ perfect a gold-digger!sofia concept

{summary: what if sofia’s primary motive was to live the kook life? and what if rafe was her ticket to that dream?}

{a/n: it was fun to characterise sofia in a different way– i personally don’t think she’s a gold digger, so i added a bit of a softer spin to the concept! let me know what you think and what else you’d like to see from her or rafe’s characters!}

˙⋆✮⋆˙⋆✮⋆˙⋆✮⋆˙⋆✮⋆˙⋆✮⋆˙ ˙⋆✮⋆˙⋆✮⋆˙⋆✮⋆˙⋆✮⋆˙⋆✮⋆˙ ˙⋆✮⋆˙⋆✮⋆˙⋆✮⋆˙

𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚 He was perfect. Massive house, flashy car, shiny watch– Rafe Cameron, the kook king of the Outer Banks.

Sofia initially admired from afar, it wasn’t hard to after all– Rafe was at the country club almost every day and being the club bartender meant she had front row seats to him. The way all eyes gravitated to his person everytime he entered a room, the hundred dollar bills he’d pull out as tips, the way everyone wanted to be his friend.

Sofia wanted that. Desperately. She’d moved from Mexico to the OBX a few months ago, with barely any money; the money she did have, she used to make a down payment of the small house she’d rented. After that, Sofia quickly learnt the lingo of locals. Kook, Pogue. The Cut, Figure 8. 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

She was a Pogue and her house was on The Cut.

And the golden, glittering people at the club were Kooks and the sprawling white edifices were all on Figure 8.

Sofia burned with bitterness everytime one of those rich assholes bossed her around at work–

Two beers asap

Are you deaf? I said on the rocks

I’d like my bill today lady

But Rafe was different. He was…nice. He learnt her name– Miss Sofia he’d call her– and he’d always leave a generous tip. It just made Sofia more resolute– she wouldn’t stay a Pogue any longer.

“You going to Rafe’s party tomorrow?” She overheard a group of kook guys chatter at the bar. Her shift was nearly over, the sky dark already, and her body exhausted. But she perked up on hearing this.

“The one over at Tannyhill? Yeah I’m down.”

That night she was leaving work, trying to figure out how she’d get into that party as she headed to her car. But then it was like fate had thrust her towards the answer. There approaching her, way down the parking lot, was no other than Rafe Cameron.

Her heart soared in her chest. This was her chance.

They were moments away from crossing each other, Rafe locking eyes with her, throwing her a small half-smile.

Do it, she screamed at herself.

“Hi,” she greeted with a sweet smile.

“Hey,” he responded. Sofia could tell he was caught off guard but he still remained polite. Aside from when he ordered drinks, the two never talked. This was new territory for the both of them.

“I didn’t see you at the club today?”

“Yeah– I uh had some business to sort out.” Rafe stopped, taking the moment to talk with her.

She nodded enthusiastically, shining her big, bright eyes at him.

“You missed me huh?” He said with a smirk.

She was in.

“Of course, you’re my favourite customer.”

She watched him as he subtly eyed her.

“Well I guess I’ll see you then, bye Rafe.” She turned to walk to her car, her breath caught in her chest.

“Wait, wait. I’m having a party tomorrow at my house.”

She slowly turned around to face him, feigning unawareness, “oh…ok.”

“You should come by– if you’re free that is.”

“Yeah that’d be cool. What’s your address?”

Rafe raised his eyebrow as if he didn’t understand the questions, “Tannyhill?”

Sofia shook her head, to say she still didn’t know.

“Shit sorry, I keep forgetting that you’re not from here. Just give me your number and I’ll text it to you.”

And that’s how Sofia managed to be the girl on Rafe Cameron’s arm. It wasn’t hard to like him– he was charming, funny, not to mention handsome. She thought it’d be harder to get into his bed, after all she was a Pogue, a bartender– she was supposed to be invisible to him. But Rafe was surprisingly down. Desperate even. Like he was trying to distract himself from something.

Sofia’s heart sometimes stirred for the boy. But she reminded herself of what she truly wanted– this. The satin bedsheets, the crystal chandeliers, the ocean view.

She didn’t feel bad, or guilty– both her and Rafe’s ‘relationship’ was transactional. They both took things.

For her it was the fancy dinners he’d take her on and hefty tips he’d slide her at the bar and for him it was…company. Sofia realised Rafe Cameron was actually quite lonely.

So she played the part. It wasn’t hard. There was something vulnerable about Rafe that made her care. But she’d always quash it down knowing how messy feelings would be– she wasn’t loosing out on the lux and glitz of the kook life to something as trivial as heartbreak.

Sofia was currently taking a bath in the claw footed tub in the en-suite of Rafe’s bedroom at Tannyhill. Inhaling softly, eyes closed, she breathed in the lavender scent of the water, her hands skimming the iridescent bubbles on the surface.

It was late and after they’d messed around for a bit, Rafe had run her a bath.

Sofia sighed softly to herself thinking this wouldn’t be possible back home with her single shower with the shit water pressure.

A soft knock on the bathroom door interrupted her clouding thoughts.

“Hmn?” She hummed, blinking open her eyes.

“Can I come in?” Rafe asked, on the other side of the door.

“Yeah.”

He entered, Sofia smiling up at home from the bathtub. He’d gotten changed into some grey sweats and a T-shirt that pulled across his arms. Sofia wouldn’t have minded going for another round.

“What’s up?” She smiled, the water reaching her neck.

“Nothing– just wanted to talk to you about something.”

Her heart dropped into her stomach. Was he ending this? This…situationship?

“Hey, what’s wrong?” She simpered, her eyebrows furrowing in concern.

“That day–” he coughed clearing his throat, “that day on the balcony, after you stayed over, you gave me some advice– do you remember?”

Rafe approached Sofia, sitting on the edge of the bathtub, his body turned to face her. Her eyes trailed down to his fingers, the tips of them skimming the bubbly water.

That day on the balcony– that day he was acting…off. He’d been stressed out, terse. It had worried her.

Sofia nodded slowly, noticing how he avoided eye contact with her. “Yeah, what about it?”

“You really helped me that day…more than you know.” He mumbled.

Sofia lifted her hand out the water, locking her fingers with his, “Rafe– is everything ok?” She was seriously beginning to worry now, the feeling of care, that warm sticky emotion, worming its way inside her heart. When she felt like that she’d forget what this was– she’d forget how Rafe saw her as a fuck buddy, and she’d forget how she saw him as a gold mine. Instead she only saw him and how she wanted to help him feel better.

“Everything is fine. I uh just wanted to say thank you for that.”

She gave him a confused, lopsided smile, “you’re welcome?”

“Here I got something for you.” He let go of her hand, pulling out a small black box from his pocket, and giving it to her to open.

Sofia glanced at the box, then back up at him. He had a stupid smirk plastered across his face, the abashed look from before already faded.

“Rafe– you didn’t have to.” She said, internally thrumming with delight. Her fingers slowly opened the gift, revealing a thread of scintillating diamonds resting on black velvet, like stars in the night sky.

“Dios mio,” she breathed. It was beautiful.

“Here let me put it on you.”

“No don’t– I’m in the bath, I don’t want to ruin it.”

Rafe chuckled lowly, “Sof, they’re diamonds– they don’t get ruined.”

She didn’t even know what to respond to that, so she just grinned widely, letting out an excited laugh.

Rafe took out the spool of sparkles, standing up to walk behind her. He knelt down low, bringing the necklace onto her décolleté, Sofia jolting slightly at how cold it felt. She looked down to see the delicate metal rest prettily on her skin, the water lapping up to graze the diamonds.

“It’s so beautiful, thank you Rafe.” She gushed, turning her neck to face him.

“Don’t mention it,” he whispered into her ear, planting a kiss on her temple, peppering more kissed until he reached her lips. Sofia gasped against his mouth, savouring the sensation of the cold diamonds and his hot fingers trailing her neck.

Her broke the kiss, his eyes roving down her face to her chest, “I’ll let you finish your bath.” Rafe stood up, leaving the room.

Sofia felt conflicted. A diamond necklace? For a piece of advice? It felt like an unfair trade. But she quickly got over it when she saw the way they sparkled under the bathroom lights.

This was the life she wanted. And she would bask in it.

“Hurry up alright? I wanna see the necklace on you up close.” Rafe called from the room.

Sofia laughed, “gonna take my time now!” She called back, sinking into the water, closing her eyes once again.

Perfect. This was perfect.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

[mpregandproud]

Isaac II (Part 10)

Time is flying by. It's been 5 years since my last delivery and Isaac and I have talked a lot about our life plan. While we have always dreamed of having a huge family, and we really have, we haven't had any more children since Andrew, Adrian, Jon and Michael were born.

And it's not because we didn't try, because shortly after Sandra, Cal, Patrick and Isaac became parents, we were overcome with an immense sense of fatherhood. But apparently men, just like women, have a time in our lives when we stop being fertile. As there are still not so many men with the capacity to get pregnant, there is not much information about it. But after three years of trying and failing to get pregnant, considering our history, our doctor told us that we are going through male menopause, andropause he called it.

I did not take the news well, although in the end, at 53 years of age, it was more than expected. If after giving birth to the quadruplets I was unable to regain the shape I had before giving birth, after the news this was mission impossible. I drowned in food the anxiety I felt knowing that I would never again be able to generate life.

You'll say I'm an idiot. After giving birth to 21 babies in two decades, and expanding the family with grandchildren, who would want to have more children. Really, anyone you tell that we wanted to experience pregnancy one more time would think we were crazy. It took me months to understand what the people around me were thinking, but it's complicated for someone who has built so much of his life these past few years around her pregnancies, this new scenario was complicated.

The good thing is that I had Isaac and the kids by my side at all times. My sister and my friends Lucas and Adam were a great help in understanding that I had to enter a new stage in my life, the grandfather stage. I already had six grandchildren, the children of Sandra and Cal and Patrick and Isaac, wonderful, beautiful children. Although I was still raising my youngest children, the prospect of more grandchildren filled me with excitement.

Dylan, Nate, Philip, Edward and Cristina, now out of college and working, introduced us to their various partners. Dylan had met Jessica, a beautiful girl who was Miss of her country, I can't remember where is she from. Cristina had Veronica as a girlfriend, and apparently they don't want to have children, they say they prefer to be the cool aunts. Edward is very reserved, but from time to time he let slip the name of a girl named Pamela. Philip was dating Peter, coach of the local soccer team and son of my friend Frank, whom I never imagined as part of my family. Nate, on the other hand, has inherited my husband's gift for flirting, so every now and then he would come home with a guy or girl he had just met and with whom he was already planning his life forever.

Sandra and Cal are still happily in love. They have decided to continue with Cal's parents' business, and not to resume their studies. Little Samba is the most handsome boy in the world, no wonder, having the parents he has. They got married a year after becoming parents, in a small ceremony with their immediate family and little else. They wanted an intimate celebration to celebrate their love with those closest to them.

Bruce, Ken, Charlotte, Ivana and Jason have started their college experience this year. This is not the case of Patrick, who decided to stop for a year to be able to raise his children with more attention during the first months. He and Isaac combine their studies with part-time jobs from Monday to Friday and full-time on weekends. Both have made their first steps as photographic models. As their parents we helped them as much as possible, although we were surprised by how clear their ideas about their life as a couple were. They lived in a small house that allowed them to live comfortably, but without too many expenses, in order to save and be able to progress later on. Two teenagers were giving a life lesson to four grown adults.

A few weeks ago, on the birthday of their sons Anton, Ian, Benji, Liam and Zach announced to us that they wanted to get married. They had been living together for a long time and deeply in love, so I guess it was the inevitable step in their lives. I cried like a little girl when Patrick told Isaac and I that he was getting married. In addition to the excitement of seeing a son get married, there was also the emotion of seeing myself very much reflected in the story of these two boys who, at just 20 years old, were living intensely the life they wanted.

Two months after the announcement, the big day arrived. Little by little the guests arrived at the venue. All our children and their respective partners, nieces and nephews, friends, some teachers, colleagues from work and sports teams… the room was filling up waiting for the two lovers. Sandra attracted many stares, especially from those who did not yet know that she was pregnant again.

While keeping an eye on our youngest children, I ran into Lucas and Adam, both impeccably dressed in gray. It seemed unbelievable that these two men my own age had this physique, with no exercise according to bastard Lucas, and I look like I'm eight months pregnant. It doesn't help that I've given birth to a good portion of the guests at this ceremony. And it also doesn't help that my husband has insisted on keeping me fat because it makes him so horny.

After a few minutes Isaac arrived accompanied by his brother, Dan. The groom looked gorgeous in his navy blue suit, bow tie and a flower in his lapel. You could see him standing there looking so handsome and nervous waiting for Patrick to arrive. When he walked up the aisle he didn't talk to anyone, he was staring at the door of the venue, he was a bundle of nerves. Even with those nerves on edge we could see why he was dedicating himself to being a photo model. The boy was the spitting image of his father Lucas when he was young, the same Lucas I was madly in love with as a teenager.

Five minutes later Patrick arrived accompanied by my husband Isaac. Isaac looked spectacular, and I was reassured to see that he had also put on weight in recent years, not as much as I had, but he was not as thin as when we first met. Although he has aged more than I have, he looked like a handsome mature Hollywood actor in his navy blue suit.

Our son stepped forward a bit when they arrived near the altar. The poor guy only had eyes for his future husband, Isaac. She walked briskly over to where he stood and took his hand, smiled at him and kissed him on the cheek.

“Hold my hand you too, I'm about to burst into tears from excitement,” Isaac whispered in my ear as he sat next to me in the front row. I pinched his cheek tenderly and gave him a peck on the mouth.

After a few minutes of speeches from friends and family, Dylan, our oldest son and the master of ceremonies, invited the grooms to dedicate their vows to each other. The first to speak was Isaac.

“Patrick, I can't believe we're here, on this day we've dreamed of so much. We've been dating for six years, but I think I remember being in love with you for as long as I can remember. You were the mischievous little boy with the charming smile that I always wanted to play with when my parents took me to your parents' house. As luck would have it, we connected and time brought us together in a way I never imagined we would with you. I think all of us gays are scared to take the step of starting a relationship with our best friend in high school, but I will never, ever regret kissing you at the end of the hallway on the second floor of high school. You have given me the five most beautiful children in the world and you have filled every second of my life with light. I want to share with you the rest of our lives, expand our family and the happiness we share. I love you,” Isaac said. The audience applauded and he, deeply in love, kissed Patrick.

“What can I say now?” began Patrick, which was followed by some complicit laughter from the audience. “The gift of gab has never been my strong suit, but I've been writing down what to say now for weeks. I come from a huge family and grew up watching both my parents love each other deeply. I don't think I was ever aware of how much I wanted to build something that looked even the slightest bit like what the two of them had built. From a young age I knew I was gay, and I don't know why I thought that because of that very fact I wouldn't have the ease of having children that my brothers did. But then you came into my life. The boy I have been in love with since I was 5 years old. Our love was complicated, for some people we are like cousins and for others even brothers, but for me you have always been my best friend, the father of my children and the man with whom I share every moment of my life. You kissed me that fall day in high school, and my life changed forever, everything made sense. Since that moment I have wanted to share every moment with you. My friends and siblings know that I am not able to have a conversation, no matter what the topic, without mentioning you 20 times a minute, you complement me and you have made me grow personally and emotionally. Can I ask for more? I don't think so. I can't wait to put the ring on your finger and make official in the eyes of the law what has been official in our hearts and family for six years now. It will be the first step in the rest of our wonderful lives. I want you to join me on this journey. I love you, Isaac,” Patrick finished, planting a kiss right there for Isaac.

Dylan uttered the relevant questions and they both responded with a resounding “yes”, to which our eldest son told them “you can kiss the groom, or should I say husband”. The two melted into one, kissing passionately. The guests were clapping and throwing petals and rice at them. Lucas, Adam, Isaac and I were in the front row, four 55-year-old men crying like babies watching our sons united in marriage and sharing their happiness with everyone.

The bride and groom went on a honeymoon in the Caribbean, and when they returned they told us that in a few weeks they would be moving to the big city because of a job offer they had both received. A modeling agency had noticed their wedding photos and wanted to sign them, for which they had to move to the city, where they would find the best job opportunities.

Since their departure we spoke to them very little, as they had an impossible schedule of photo shoots, catwalks and interviews. A year after their wedding, taking advantage of the fact that Lucas and Adam were with us at home, we made a video call with them. They looked overjoyed, deeply happy with their life together. They told us how they were balancing parenting their five children with a career as demanding as modeling.

“Dads, we have something to tell you, that's why we called you”, Isaac said on the other side of the screen. “We found out a few weeks ago and we wanted you to be the first to know. Isaac and I are going to be dads again, we're pregnant", said Patrick.

The end of Isaac II

This story will continue…

[kindheartedgummybears]

you wanna know what??

I am

TIRED

of overmasculinized werewolves!!!!

I WANNA SEE A

WEREWOLF

WALKING AROUND IN A CVNTY LITTLE OUTFIT!!! WALKING THE STREETS!!!! DISEMBOWELING CREATURES!!!!

I WANNA SEE WEREWOLVES COVERED IN BLOOD AND GORE WHILE WEARING A SHORT SKIRT AND CROPTOP WITH HELLO KITTY ON IT!!!!

I WANNA SEE A WEREWOLF WALKING AROUND IN COTTAGE AND FAIRY AND PRINCESS CORE OUTFITS!!!!!! WITH A DEAD MANGLED RABBIT IN ITS MOUTH!!!!

AND MAKE THE WEREWOLF

D I S G U S T I N G ! ! !

[bigothteddies]

oh my god re: your recent post... the 'girl dinner' shit. omfg. idc if it's 'not that deep' you're still reinforcing terrible shit!!! and also the like 'boys when they see a stick/cool rock' and 'girls when they time travel vs boys when they time travel' wojaks. the gender-fication of barbie vs. oppenheimer. why the fuck is the recent internet zeitgeist hyper stereotypical cisnormativity. like. i thought we had collectively outgrown this.

exactly. And that’s all just some parts of it too. People pretend they’re so on top of things but it’s just because they don’t want to seem out of touch and offensive. It’s wild watching people barf out gender binaries with new terms and new ways to categorize trans people as not their gender and new ways to reinforce the same gender roles on ourselves but in “good” ways now. It’s just….really frustrating and pretty terrifying at the same time

[wipples]

What is it like to lack a sense of agency?

What is it like to have it?

[august-undergrounds]

never let being a girl stop you from being a boy

[tonycries]

I Lasted Ten Rounds!

Synopsis. Marathons - they’re better in bed.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, marathon séx, major overstím, pússydrunk boys, CÚMPLAY, creampíes, mean Geto, squírting, innappropríate use of jujutsu (Gojo and Sukuna), pússy-slappíng, best friend!Choso, aphrodísiacs, true form Sukuna, dp, spítting, BRÉEDING, making them cry, full nélson, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.9k

A/N. Hope y’all have a good leak day mwah <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - 5 rounds

“Raw.” he breathes, and there’s a strained - almost whiny - shudder being wrenched out of Toji’s hulking body when he sinks inch after long, hefty inch into your plush cunt. Bullying past the barely-there resistance of that first ring of muscle with such a harsh tug of your pliant body down his swollen cock. “R-raw. You- fuck- you finally let me–”

No, it wasn’t the first time you let Toji fuck you into these silken bedsheets without a condom - that was a few hours ago. But that didn’t stop him from spitting out that same, strained accusation, the same greedy little push and pull of his toned hips smacking sloppily against your clingy pussy. 

He was addicted. 

“O-oh, Toji–” you’re babbling, swollen lips glossed with tears, thighs burning at just how long he’s been pounding into you like this. “S’already the- the third? Fourth? Or-”

“Fifth.” he’s cutting you off, with a hoarse chuckle - voice shot already. “Fifth n’-” Head lolling drunkenly into the crook of your neck, it’s all he can do to bite out brokenly, “-oh, my girl- hope y’know m’not hahhh- letting you go until I physically can’t anymore.”

Fifth, huh?

Oh, it was setting in - fuck, was he feeling it. You were so pretty underneath him, sweat-slicked body splayed out all shamefully for him, slurring words barely coherently. And Toji couldn’t even keep his eyes open, stars popping up behind his lids at every one of your velvety clenches, abs burning with each ravaged mash of his overworked, weepy head against your ravaged g-spot.

Fingers jittery where he’s hauling your body desperately to his muscled one. Clinging onto you so close - like a lifeline - that you could hear every tremoringly quiet ah! ah ah! following those long, solid glides, feel his happy trail scratching against your sluttily arched back. 

It almost hurt - but it hurt so good, that even after painting your gluey, sloshing insides white four times tonight already, Toji wanted more more more-

A bludgeoning knee comes down to shove your thighs spread even wider, spreading your puffy pussy lips so gapingly around his thick shaft. 

“Oh sh-shit.” he’s hissing. And Toji Fushiguro never stutters, he never throws his head back to let out such pained whimper like this.“Such a f-filthy pussy.” His pretty pink lips purse to spit a languid wad of his spit down on the bullseye of your slobbering cunt. The chilling dredges oozing a slow trail down your split-open pussy. “The fifth time- n’ y’pretend like this cute cunt of yours can’t handle more of me.”

“Ngh-” your teeth are clamping around one of the cushiony pillows, trembly fingers scrambling jerkily at the headboard, the plush mattress, anything- “You’re in s-so deep- feels like m’gonna pass out. How the hell are you still going?”

Toji rolls his eyes, acting for all the world like those whiny little words of yours don’t have his red, angry tip painting your insides with another honeyed coat of his sweltering precum. “Told ya not to hah- test me doll- just had to run that pretty mouth, huh?”

You’re keening when all five of his calloused fingers come up to smush your cheeks together embarrassingly, “Saying m’not gonna last going in raw- look where ya are now.” Toji’s craning his head to leave wet little kisses up your spine, your jaw, your forehead. Fully bending you in half to meet his lips, angling his riotous hips to graze his sensitive slit right against the swollen, bruised divots on your cervix. “Look where I am- I can’t stop.” 

And your hypnotized hips can only manage to give a last sticky heave meeting Toji’s drunken staccato before splaying limply down on the bed. Moaning around the lewd sucking of his lips around your heavy tongue. 

“No- no come back- shit, m’not-” He’s slowly losing control of those lingering thrusts, desperation bleeding into the way his big arms frantically circle around your weakening waist. Dragging you up, up, up like some glorified ragdoll, “How are ya n-not able to keep up when you hah- came up with the idea, ma.” And for all how gentle he’s being suckling on your pouty lower lip, one hand of his glides down easily to cup at your bulging pussy. Smearing in another quick, branding stream of saliva on your struggling, swollen folds spread so lewdly open around his thick hilt, “Ohhh, gonna make a man lose his sanity with a pussy this heavenly. Doesn’t seem so fair now, does it?”

That delirious little shake of your head makes him bare his canines in a grin, smiling at how utterly fucked-out you were on his mean cock. There’s a lazy, glistening trail of drool at the corner of your lips that Toji idles out his hot tongue to lick away, “Now now. Why don’t you- ah- use those words like a big girl, huh?” 

“Hah- didn’t-” those wet gurgles bubble at your throat, dying down after each harsh clash into your most sensitive spot. He’s reaching every nook and cranny inside of you - drilling cock expanding even girthier with each heady second. “Didn’t think you’d get so-” Another pretty glob of spit onto your cunt, “-addicted!”

“Well, what can I- hah- say?” Each taunting word is pushing you further and further up the bed, Toji’s tense hips hammering into you with no rhythm and rhyme now. Just lingering, mindless grinds chasing that painfully good smack! of his heavy, cum-filled balls at your ass, “When- ngh- when life gives you a wife this cute-”

You think he’s cumming - you think you’re cumming. But you can’t even be fully sure at this point, your own high nothing more than a few white-hot tingles, Toji’s overwhelmed cock straining to squeeze out a few more wispy strings of his milky seed. Until you were drenched in a silky coating down your inner thighs, beading pearly drops of his seed and your sweet sweet juices. To stuff you full even more.“-fuck her at least five times.”

“At- at least?”

Toji grins, “At least.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - As many as you can take (and a lil’ more!)

“My love.” Two soft pads of Nanami’s long fingers tap gently on your cheek, lingering when he lovingly cups your glossy pout. “My love.”

Biting your lip, you whine at his heated intrusion at your pretty cunt. Free hand thumbing open your soppingly wet slit to spread even wider around his thick hilt, scratching up so rawly against those neat tufts of blond at his sharp pelvis. “N’nothing, s’just that- hahh–” cocking your head to nuzzle his large palm, “You’re not- not tired, Ken?”

“Doesn’t matter.” he breathes, minty hot breath fanning your face when he leans in. And you think he’s going to kiss you - to maybe mouth away those big fat, overstimulated tears rolling down your face - but instead, Nanami’s stern lips wrap around your lolling tongue. Sucking. Moaning so depravedly. “All that matters is that- hngh- that–” Splaying out all five fingers on your stomach, pressing down hard where he can feel the divot of his very head, “-the mother of my future kids s’doing alright.”

He can feel that rotund clenching of your snug channel, the way your pussy grows increasingly more soaked with every stuttering nudge at your g-spot. 

When the heady bedroom air is only punctuated with a few sticky squelches from your cunt Nanami has to grit out - to force himself to speak. “Please-” hissing at the velvety silk or his seed swirling around your hole, it makes his toes curl, overworked balls squeeze achingly. Shit. “Give me an answer- please, darling, your cunt s’driving me insane. Fuck- I’ve- I’ve lost count at this point how many times I-”

At this, you can’t help but giggle. Reaching up to lick at the stray, glistening tear falling down his sharp cheekbone, “Are- are you crying, Ken?” The heels of your trembly feet curl tightly against the sinful dimples at the end of his spine, plunging him even deeper into the gloopy bottom of your pussy. “Can’t take any more?”

“No!” Nanami’s usually steady voice just cracks pitifully at the end. “No no no- just- hngh! I can take it- can give y’more. Anything for you, ma.”

Each of his hammering thrusts are slowly getting meaner. Slowly losing control. They’re haphazardly alternating between long, thorough slams of his entirely swollen length to mere jutting, half-thrusts - as if it just pained him to part with your clingy pussy more than that. 

And, shit, he’s so thick - so jaw-slackingly hefty when he twitches animalistically against all your sensitive spots. Gliding in solid, wet smears of his leaky tip against your cervix reminding you of the sheer strength he held. Fucking you so mean, like he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it - tired, fatigued body moving on animal instinct.

“Darling–” Nanami’s wet croon has you blinking away the lusty haze in your pupils, locking them with his own blown-out ones. “Eyes on me- have to make sure you can- ngh-” You can hear his jaw click with strain when you’re giving an experimental squeeze of your velvety cunt, “-m-me. Hafta make sure you can take it- you can take it, right?”

You’re gasping out brokenly, nodding in response to his question - thighs jittery and you don’t know whether you want to run or fuck yourself back down for more more more-

“Then why are you running, ma?”

Just as those billowing words leave his mouth, Nanami’s falling back onto his thick thighs, grabbing your body right along to seat you prettily down his brutal dick. It was devastating. It was sloppy how silky, stringy ropes of cum were rushing down in a glossy coat. Smacking so sluggishly down below.

“Wh-what?” you’re batting your teary lashes, jaw hanging open at just how much this didn’t sound like your usually gentle husband. Deep voice jagged, gutturally dangerous - he was talking to you in a steady, hard tone as if you were some prey. Setting his lewd sights on you to mash up even harder into your pretty cunt. 

He’s breathing out shakily in a way that told you he was getting close, thighs aching, red tip so angry and flinching in such a dizzy way. “Why- are- you-” The metal band of his gold wedding ring burns into your heated skin, digging possessively when he hauls you close. “-running away? Don’t- don’t think you can escape, darling.”

Those drenched silk sheets bunch up messily behind you at just how firmly he was halting your escape. “S’jus’-” you’re whining, in that syrupy sweet tone that makes him only grow painfully harder. Stiffening his back to drill copious inches, he’s tracing his fingertips back across your stomach. “-you’re in so deep. Think m’- hah, think m’getting close.”

“A-ah– of course you are.” he whimpers, tone lilting upwards at the end. It was just so stimulating how you were taking him so well despite being stuffed to the brim, overflowing in a creamy sheen. “Gotta- gotta get my pretty lady to cum- ngh! Breed her pussy full.” And oh, despite how composed Nanami seemed on the outside you could sense the waver in his words, the way his ruthless pace was evening out to something more messy. Untamed. “Make her the most beautiful momma.”

Brows knitting deeper and deeper every, it hurt - fuck, but it hurt more to not stuff you full until you were round and glowing. To leave even the tiniest chance of you being carried out of this bedroom without carrying his future kid. 

“You can do it- cum f’me.” It’s almost like he’s whispering to himself at this point, stamina withering. One hand of his guides your other own down from your searing grip on his unkept strands, down past his tear-slicked cheeks, down past his wobbly plump lips. Wrapping your fingers tightly around Nanami’s pale neck, forcing your nails to dig into the sweat-beaded skin. “Cum f’me- jus this once, because after this time m’not gonna be playing nice, my love.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - 7 rounds

“Shhh, gorgeous.” Geto’s hushed, smooth voice in your ear would almost be soothing, his large thumb gliding against the very peak of your puffed-up clit almost distracting- “S’all part of your special initiation.”

If it wasn’t for the rest of the cult standing behind those semi-sheer watching all of this happen to you, that is. 

Ah, you didn’t know whether that syrupy sweet idea of a special initiation - a rite of passage “just for you” - had you joining Geto’s religious association even sooner.  

Because here you were - your thighs burning with the relentless stretch of Geto’s forearms hooked underneath them, spreading you so fucking shamelessly towards where the countless others in the group were stood behind the covering around the creaky bed. A barely-there sense of privacy while he just ravaged you into the meanest full nelson possible. 

“Oh- fuuuck–” Geto’s groaning at your drunken little squirms on his cock, mouth salivating at the wet squelches being wrenched out with each pressurized thrust. “Just one more round now- come on, seven’s my lucky number. And y’wanna hngh- finish the initiation- right, pretty girl?”

His two strong legs plant even more vice-like on the absolutely drenched sheets, seeping into the creamy puddle of cum and honeyed slick spreading further and further each obscene second. 

That lolling nod of your delirious head has him crashing his sensitive, throbbing tip against your spongy g-spot, already so branded with the bruises of his divot. Holding back each whine after whine threatening to drag out from his throat when your swollen lips meet his in a sloppy graze of a kiss.

Shit, you were so cute - no wonder he had the fucking brilliant idea of fucking you like this. Even if it hurt - even if his achy cock was rubbing raw, over and over and-

“Aww, my pretty baby wants a kiss?” Geto’s leering grin only grows when he glides a dripping coat of wispy precum right across the back of your cervix, it’s so hot inside you - and you feel drunk off of every ooze of his cum from before, sloshing down in a milky white sheen. “Well not until you hngh-” He’s moving to bite down onto your earlobe, pussydrunk mind wondering whether your gummy walls were shaping around every ridge and vein of his shaft by now. “-cum f’me once more.”

“S-Sugu–” your eyes are rolling to the back of your head at the warm, wet cascade of his juices down your thighs, slipping and sliding you easily down his girthy length. “Don’t know if I- if I can cum- hah-” That admonishing smack! on your achy clit is taken in stride, gaping your gummy entrance even wider to swallow his every fucking inch greedily. “But- but I wanna. Wanna cum f’you so badly.”

There’s a muted shuffling from behind the curtains that have Geto’s darkened eyes narrowing in hostility, and he’s possessively turning his head to take in that sinful view of you down below. 

Shit- he could’ve almost came from just the sheer sight. The sight of your glisteningly puffy folds stretched to their limits around the creamy translucent ring around his thick hilt. Velvety walls contorting to massage his attritioning veins, grinding in thorough, purposeful gyrations against his heavily twitching balls. 

You were taking him so good.

And Geto’s never been more happy you couldn’t see the full plane of his face. Eyes rolling to the back of his head at the mere sight, teeth biting down on his plump lower lip as if to draw blood. 

“Then do it.” Geto’s biceps just bulge against the small of your waist when they dig into a restraining loop around your body, pinning you down so helplessly to his sculpted front. “Cum f’me like a good girl then. Show me, show them-” The hand not rolling over your sensitive clit dips upwards to angle your face towards the still-watching crowd. His lips are drag so slowly at your heated ear, “-show them what a good girl you are f’me.”

Your cute, wobbly lips cry out in a broken little whine - and then your slutty cunt is just gushing down the entirety of Geto’s furious front. Slobbering a glossy, glossy sheen that coats his milky skin, syrupy and sticking - meshing your bodies so close together he doesn’t know where you begin and where he ends. 

”Good girl- good- hah- good girl.” Geto’s gritting out, trying for all the world to not sound as wrecked as he feels right now. Fuck, ignoring the spiking sensitivity, the stars behind his eyes to chase every little suck of your sopping wet walls, thighs trembly, eyes crinkling with such pathetically big tears. Shit, he’s pussydrunk. Only babbling out, “Ohhh- so perfect f’me, right? Even squirting- too generous f’me, gorgeous.”

It only takes a few more gasps from his ragged chest - heaves even. Delicately pink tip stuffing you so wholly full it’s like you’re about to explode, and Geto’s not too far behind. 

Not at all, in fact, with the way a final, harsh nudge against your springy cervix has him spurting out ribbons of creamy white cum. Oozing out in a thick, viscous polish that drools out of your bulging slit. Leaving a lewd trail of evidence where Geto’s fat cock was rummaging your poor insides. Over and over until he’s shooting nothing but blanks.

And it’s so hot, that you can almost feel it in your lungs. Limbs twitching mindlessly, he’s finding it easy to pull out - to display the gloopy filling lazily trickling out of you. Those slender fingers of his on your clit dance just downwards to circle the ring of your sloppy hole, swirling around that messy gloss. He coats his fingers until they just gleam in the dim lighting. Around and around. 

With a look of pure, unfiltered pride Geto clears his throat authoritatively. Jolting, you realize he’s not addressing you this time, “Everyone, say hello to your new second-in-command.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - 6 rounds

Choso thinks he’s cumming - Choso thinks he’s crying, begging out such broken little pleas in your open mouth. He’s wrapping five pale, jittery fingers of his around the furiously red base of his cock, angling the bulbous head of his fat tip just right to press deeply into your greedy entrance. 

“Oh!” you’re smirking down at your best friend, biting back a wrecked moan at just how much he was stretching you, barely even reeling back at the brief resistance. His shredded patience can only wait a beat - two - more watching the snug channel of your cunt gush down in thick, hot streams of his seed from earlier, before bucking his hips up, up up- “Even five times wasn’t enough for you? What did I hah- tell ya about th-the-”

“I know I know, m’sorry, baby–” Choso cries, dark lashes batting at his cheeks when his eyes scrunch up into a pathetic bawl. “M’sorry I accidentally ate your- your ‘special chocolate’ but I fuck- it feels like m’burning all over. Like m’gonna die if I don’t fuck your cute cunt.”

And yet his bruising grip on your hips don’t waver, he’s still prying down your sticky body onto his, strong arms wrenching open your thighs to straddle him even wider. Still so needy - so hot all over with the itching greed to fuck you until one of you breaks.

Truly, it was a surprise to come home and find out your sweet best friend had raided that joke stash of aphrodisiac chocolate gifted by your coworkers last week - a welcome surprise. 

Because here he was - splayed out on your drenched silken sheets, big fat tears glistening across his cheekbones, toned body jolting so harshly at each one of your touches. So pussydrunk that you almost wondered whether it hurt, how his poor, overworked cock wasn’t fucking seizing at this point.

And even if it did, Choso wouldn’t complain - not one bit. 

“Please-” his breath comes out in a feverish puff, as wild as the fingers now toying with your swollen clit. Smearing the creamy dredges of his seed all over your puffed-up folds in tight little circles over and over and- 

Slam!

In a split-second, Choso’s hands are being pinned above his head. It would’ve looked almost comical - your much smaller ones restraining his own, fingers twitching animalistically with every sloppy drag down his pulsingly needy length - but oh, was Choso letting you. Letting himself be used like your favorite toy. 

“You’re being real greedy, Cho–” your teasing voice sends shivers wracking down his entire body. Powerful thighs bucking up in pressurized ruts up into your squelching cunt. “First you ate my- hah- secret stash, n’ now you’re being so hasty makin’ me cum.”

Each one of your words are punctuated by a sticky slam down onto his slowly-reddening pelvis, the fat of your ass being smacked with his sharp hipbones. You were riding him to insanity. 

“Yes!” Choso’s jaw hangs deliriously open, rosy red lips forming around your name again and again like a mantra. “M’so greedy- so greedy for your pretty pussy.” He whines, and just the feeling of your velvety walls milking his fat length for so long has his syrupy mess of a mind thrown into such a primal frenzy. “Can’t help it when you’re so heavenly, baby– K-keep wantin’ to fuck this cunt forever.”

The painful pull of your fingers weaving into his dark strands have him keening, latching onto the very tips of your sensitive nipples bouncing temptingly onto his face. “Can’t help it.” he echoes, swirling his hot tongue around your sweet areola, looking up at you with his gorgeously glassy, dark eyes. “Really can’t help it.”

There’s such a sickly, syrupy sweet staccato of Choso’s probing tip pressing deep into the drippingly wet g-spot inside you. And slowly - but steadily - your deft fingers find themselves dancing a path down to wrap around Choso’s heavily gulping throat. Breath hitching when they squeeze-

“Cum f’me, Cho-” he raises his lolling head up to meet yours, meshing back into a messy excuse of a kiss. Your teeth sink down to tug on his pouty bottom lip, fingers tightening, “Cum f’me- s’all to cure you of this chocolate after a-all, right?” 

At the reminder of that, his wrists try to wrench useless in your other hand’s vice-like hold. And honestly, Choso doesn’t know if he wants to cum again - he doesn’t know if he can. But the soft clingy feeling of your walls against his girthy shaft have him gasping, poor, overworked balls so raw. Tight and clenching painfully with every crashing push into your g-spot. He’s absolutely ruined. 

And both of you know it.

Oh, his head was so light now - your fingers vice-like around his pale throat. The only thing that Choso can seem to urgently choke out right about now is a honeyed, dragged-out drawl of, “Spit-” His wild cock leaking hot precum in another drippingly saturated wave everywhere, “Spit in my mouth, baby–”

And you do - that translucent wad of saliva barely hitting right in the middle of Choso’s lolling-out tongue before he cums. That ravaged divot on the very tip of his fat head stuttering out only one, two tiny beads of milky seed before he’s riding out such an addictively dry orgasm. 

Dewy eyes rolling to the back of his head, body sweat-slicked and clinging onto yours with creamy strings of cum and spit. So desperate when he’s fucking into you so filthy, pummelling you along the curve of his length like he was trying to drag out another milky stream of seed. Again and again and-

It takes only a split-second to break out of your hold - of course, it does - and you’re barely even registering it when Choso pins you back onto the sloppy mess of your soaked sheets. Hips still relentless, voice still ragged- “Think we’re gonna hafta hah- skip the dating n’ go straight to marriage after this, baby.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - 8 (and a half) rounds

If there was ever a time that the infamous king of curses would let out raspy little whimpers of his baritone voice - muscled just heaving deep gasps, looking at you all four eyes glistening with wet tears, hearts in his gaze - it would be right now. 

When the day sitting around his throne had been too long, when there’d been just a few too many scum curses groveling at his feet. 

When you were sprawled all prettily on his muscular, manspread thighs, your expensive robes pulled up just enough for that gummy cunt of yours to stretch open gapingly around his two matchingly rock-hard cocks. The plush of your ass on full, obscene display for him, limbs twitching with each swallowed-up inch down his fat, throbbing lengths. 

“Fuuck- take it easy, woman.” he’s hissing, powerful hip rutting upwards to skim his sensitive tip over the ends of your slobbering pussy. 

That has you pouty tearily, huffing out a low, “W-well- jus’ want you to hngh- be right-” Skittish fingers fluttering over to where you could feel him coating every hidden spot of your insides in his potent seed, angry cockhead bruising your taut channel more and more open around him. It was such a delicious stretch. And you’re pressing down where you can feel the divot of his head knock feverishly on your womb, splattering around milky dredges inside you, “-here.” 

Sukuna’s hips just surge forwards, like he didn’t even realize what he was doing. 

“Kuna- wh-wha-” you’re barely able to get out, whirling your head half-lucidly over your shoulder. But you don’t get very far - because one domineering palm hastily turns your face right back. “What are you-”

“No.” he’s letting out a strangled moan, leaving neat little indentations of his black, sharpened fingernails on your skin. “No you don’t get to- oh–” In a flash, sharp canines are digging menacingly right above the pulsepoint on your throat, and his hot breath fans over your ear. “Ah- y’don’t get to see me hngh- like this- fuckin’ embarrassing. I can’t even-” 

Sukuna’s cutting himself off by getting up onto two unsteady feet, holding you plastered so close onto his bowed body. The position is so precarious that for a second you’re worried, wondering how the hell the two of you haven’t broken any bones these past eight rounds. 

It’s his reversed curse technique, you later learn - but for now all you can do is gasp at your legs dangling in midair, spine arched back against his bulging pecs in a perfect arch, raising your head up, up, up and oh-

His eyes are aflame, glowing through the hypnotically dim lighting. Teeth bared into such a vicious grin one which only curls wider when you ask, “C-can’t even what, Kuna?”

He hisses down at the absolutely sultry look on your face - kiss-bitten lips falling slack into a soft oh! eyes half-lidded and miles away, your moans ringing through his ears like his favorite melody. “Heh- the fuckin- ah-” Another staggering push past your clingy sopping walls have him spitting out little swears, vision blurring dangerously at the corners. “-the fuckin’ audacity t-to ask me that, knowing what yer doing to me. S’pposed to help me relax but you’re hngh- driving me insane.”

You swear, you could feel his bulbous heads grow even thicker, expanding their way into contorting your gripping walls around his very shape. The even deeper intrusion has him throwing his head back, Adam’s apple bobbing with a dragged out moan of your name. 

A limp hand of yours dares to thread its way into Sukuna’s, tugging - pulling, “Look at me, please–?” And when he finally does - though, not before punishing the curve of your ass with such a stinging smack - you smirk, “Look so- ngh! pretty when you’re ruined like this, Kuna.”

That makes him falter - it makes his eyes grow just a bit wider, the insides of your elastic cunt being inflated open with another fresh wave of his furiously leaking precum. 

“Don’t-” Sukuna clears his throat of any traitorous dredges of a whimper, “Don’t push your- your luck, brat.”

But he couldn’t hide the fondness in his tone, that tiny little drawl of a whimper in his words. Heavy, pink lashes clumping up together with his overstimulating tears. It only takes a few more solid rams into your sweet hole - milking the bloated ends of his lengths for something delicious - a few more sharp, branding slams of his curving balls against your cunt. So large and aching for release that when they do, the sheer volume of Sukuna’s cum makes you dizzy.

Double the amount. It overspills, splattering half the thick, silky contents onto the decadent throne room floor. Soiling a sinful little puddle that he just can’t help but smile at, tutting mockingly, “Now now, look what you’ve done- making things even- hngh! even more stressful f’me now with this to clean up.” 

Out of his four beefy arms, two of them pin your own easily behind your back, the other dipping down to roll your puffed-up clit between his thick index and thumb. And the last one- fuck, the last one was pooling all the milky white ribbons of cum slobbering out of your stretched-out entrance. Velvety spurts dousing your walls once more - and he’s having so much fun, molding out your gummy cunt around to squeeze his fingers right in-between his two cocks. 

Still rutting into you - still cumming from both heads - every jackhammering thrust sparks stars behind his eyes. Back muscles curving deeper and deeper into you when he replaces every dredge of cum oozing down your saturated slit with a new one. The thrumming hum of his jujutsu making you keen-

“So messy. Such a filthy cunt my woman has-” he sighs, in a dark little way you knew meant he was just seconds away from tearing you apart. “Hmmm…wonder if it’ll be more relaxing. if I cum dry?”

♡ GOJO SATORU - RIP.

The strongest looks up at you with big, teary blue eyes, long lashes twinkling his pretty cheekbones every time he’s batting them. “Please. Just the tip-”

“Toru-”

“Please.” Gojo whimpers out, two of his massive hands laying at rest on the curving globes of your ass. Squeezing. Kneading you desperately in shallow, lazy grinds up and down his furiously leaky cock, “Please, sweetheart, don’t think I can handle cockwarming.” His abds are aching when they flex upwards towards you, “Haven’t had my hngh- fill just yet.”

You’re gasping when he has the audacity to give your plump clit a sharp smack! the pressurized buzz of his jujutsu from earlier sending white-hot electricity running down your arched spine. Splaying your cunt so deliciously to massage against your bulging g-spot. “N-nice try.” you grit out, legs trembling at the feeling of his thick, potent cum sliding out of your surprised entrance. “But I don’t think you’re ready- you’ve already set the lights off with your jujutsu being overstimulated, Toru.”

“Jus’ the tip- m’kay? Just the tip, I swear-” If you were of a clearer state of mind maybe you’d have pointed out that Gojo was well past the tip at this point. Feeling his fat head curve at your womb, knocking in a merciless, methodical pace. “Just missed you so much today- hah- gotta make up for lost time.”

He flashes you a devilish grin - one you’re somewhat ashamed to admit has your sopping cunt drip down a fresh sheen of your sweet sweet juices down his curvaceous length. Pooling at his frantically, painfully squeezing balls. 

And Gojo notices - of course, he does - even with his six eyes getting a bit too bleary right about the eighth? ninth? round. Ah, fuck, it didn’t matter anyway- 

“Then- then that’s good, isn’t it? Lights out- across all of hah- Tokyo, I bet.” His wretchedly strained tone is so different from the incessant pace of his bullying cock. Bludgeoning deep into your most secure spots, he’s nudging apart every velvety crevice of your walls, making such a mess of the creamy white seed of his dripping from the inside. Gliding his nose up the sweat-slicked column of your throat, “So really- we have nothing better to do. How about you- hngh- let me paint this pretty pussy white all over again?”

Of course, you wanted him to - but it was so fun how your barest tease makes Gojo fall apart. Pouty lips running a mile a minute.

His words are almost sleepy, and both of you aren’t even lucid enough to do anything about the ever-spreading puddle of cum and slick right below you. Meshing your lips drunkenly in an intoxicatingly sloppy kiss, “Come onnnn–” he’s babbling at your pointed silence. “One more? M’begging- begging, sweetheart. You got the strongest on his ah- knees n’ unable to use his powers.”

You knew so many people - so many curses - would kill to have Satoru Gojo all helpless like this. His lips moving faster than his overstimulated mind right now, drool dripping down the side of his rosy red mouth. So sensitive right now - unable to fight back. The only show of his previous prowess of strength being a stray flicker of blue lightning at his eyes when you’re cushioning his fat length with your clingy walls just a bit too hard, 

He’s heaving now - gasping deep, lungfuls of air every time his bruising grip is just bouncing your pliant body erratically down onto his. Wreckless, lunging slams that have your knees weak, stars flickering behind your lids. 

“Come on- come onnn–” He spits so syrupy sweetly into your panting, open mouth. Slender fingers wrapping around your clit, and it just throbs with the steady hum of his reversed curse technique. Stopping the two of you from breaking bones - because shit, how the hell is Gojo going to fuck up into you like an animal. Desperate little pleas of yes! yes! yes! wrenching from you at the stimulation. “Give it t’me, missed so much when you were gone out today. Please-”

“Hngh! S’too- too-” you’re drawling out incoherent sentences to match his. “Yeah- fuck yes- jus’ like that, Toru–” 

It’s only because of Gojo’s ungodly stamina that he was even able to last this long - the fact that he hadn’t fucked himself into a stupor at this point. And that’s the only thing, along with a few fumes of his reversed curse technique that have him careening smacking away your pathetic attempts to meet his thrusts.

The sensitivity too much, that he’s bawling - unable to handle the saturated drags of your slobbering pussy down his raw shaft. Mouth lolling open when you feel two big arms circle around your waist, mumbling tearily, “Wait- fuck hold that- think m’-” Like something snaps in the air.

Because then he’s cumming - at least, Gojo can feel himself cumming. This time, there’s no shattering of lightbulbs, no gleaming power in his pupils, because his poor body was too fucked-out for this. Too tired to do anything but have his heavy, strained-out balls just clench, shooting up wispy blanks into your readily swallowing pussy. 

“Oh!” he’s throwing his head back at the sheer overwhelming pleasure, beading out only a few, pearly little beads of sticky seed. But fuck, was Gojo riding out his high - riding out yours. Fucking you through each convulsing little clench of your silky cum-slicked walls, a high you’ve barely even registered still. “I don’t- I don’t know if I-”

“Don’t, Toru.” you warn, but it’s too late - only one, fleeting glance at your prettily stuffed pussy, the creamy little outer ring on your entrance, the way your puffy folds are just quivering like you’re in need of more - has Gojo intaking a sharp gasp. 

His wrecked eyes widen, looking almost afraid. Breath hitching, his words are shrill - barely audible, “Think- think we haven’t made up for lost time yet, sweetheart.”

“Toru, I was gone for five hours.”

“And?”

A/N. Gojo nation will we get a comeback today plsplspls?!

Plagiarism not authorized.