#This will only be open for about a week or a little longer

[ardentguilt]

Im a trans man and I had a complete hysterectomy last year.

You can essentially have 3 levels that entail removal of different things ranging from just the uterus to the uterus, ovaries and tubes and finally the uterus, ovaries, tubes and cervix (What had done).

The processed can be done as an open surgery OR laparascopically (aka keyhole) and often what one of these is best determined by other factors like whether you’ve had prior abdominal surgery.

As someone who hasn’t had previous abdominal surgery the best bet for me was keyhole.

This entailed 4 small incisions (approx 1cm long each.) one toward the left side of my lower abdomen, one toward the right side of my lower abdomen, one right in the middle toward the top of the pubic region (basically just below the hairline of your pubes) and one vertical incision inside the bellybutton.

The main thing to know about a hysterectomy is that it’s a proceedure that does tend to make you feel VERY tired right after so it’s not uncommon to feel exhausted and do a lot of sleeping during the first 24-48 hours post op.

The proceedure does require catheterisation which can be uncomfortable and in some cases it may not be draining properly which you’ll know because you’ll start feeling discomfort in your bladder area. Just buzz for the nurses and they can sort things out, you may need it repositioned or even just have your bed tilted slightly to get some help from gravity.

Hospital stays are as little as overnight to longer and seems to be dependent on whether you are able to fully empty your bladder without the catheter. If you can do that as there’s no other issues you’re good to go.

While I’m not a cis woman and have been on T for ~8 years now I haven’t noticed any negative side effects of having the proceedure at all, if anything it’s improved my health physically and mentally.

If you want it done go for it and on the chance you might want bio kids in the future but you want your reproductive system gone they CAN harvest and freeze your eggs beforehand.

Now don’t take my word for it when it comes to how painful it is or how long it takes to recover because I’m a medical mystery and generally don’t feel physical pain so I never actually had any pain or discomfort with the proceedure or recovery and healed completely in ~3 weeks 4 days.

If you’ve NEVER had surgery before and are nervous about what it feels like to have surgery it’s literally like taking the best nap of your life. One moment you’re awake and the next you’re coming to in recovery as if no time has passed at all, you’ll probably fall asleep again and next thing you know you’ll be in one of the wards with no memory of how you got there.

For Aussies in the Hunter Valley/Newcastle region one surgeon I highly reccomend is Dr Angela Dunford who works out of Newcastle Fertility Clinic and performs the procedure out of Lingard Private Hospital (actually a really great hospital with great food and attentive caring staff).

She’s a really nice woman who has experience working with both cis women and gender diverse people, is very respectful of the decision to have the proceedure and won’t try to talk you out of it if you’re younger etc.

She also doesn’t believe in charging trans men an insane amount for the surgery because she essentially told me that as far as she’s concerned it’s not an elective procedure but an essential one in the context of a trans patient wanting it done. I mentioned I had limited income and she legit didn’t charge me a cent for the procedure. Sometimes the anaesthetist will charge a fee but I got lucky and mine waived the fee so all I had to pay was whatever fees the hospital charged which generally here is no more that $750 so that’s all I paid for the proceedure then earlier this year the hospital refunded me that cost (not sure why but I wonder whether it was down to my only needing an overnight stay and not requesting any resources like pain relief post op etc???)

As for whether having all this taken out will affect your HRT (ie with it gone will you need a smaller T dose because all that stuff won’t be producing hormones anymore) I did test this with my endocrinologist after having my proceedure and there was no effect on the levels of T in my system and no need to adjust my dose/extend the timeframe between doses.

If anyone has questions about any of this feel free to hit me up and I’m happy to answer and/or give you a link to a Google doc I put together with some info about the surgery (and other FtM transgender stuff like HRT and top surgery)

if you're looking for a sign to get the hysterectomy, get it. if you are wondering if you will feel freer, less burdened, more optimistic, lighter without your uterus, you will. if you simply want to never get periods again, get the hysterectomy. if you want to have sex with a different person every day forever and never worry about getting pregnant, get the hysterectomy. if you don't know whether or not you want to stay on hormones, get the hysterectomy anyway. if you're afraid you're too young, and that people will judge you, get it anyway. you don't have to live in a hostile body. you are the one who gets to decide what it will and will not do.

[cakelitter]

Doll Repair

Sweet Kidnapper! Leon x Fem! Reader

warnings: dead dove, p in v, daddy kink, pet names, praise, glass cuts, blood (not in a sexual way lol)

summary: Kept away from prying hands and unwanted glances, all his to love. Filling that gaping hole in his chest, and emptying his cluttered brain. That may have cost you your entire personality and the rest of your life; but all is well as long as the two of you have each other.

words: 2k

a\n: i'm back!!! you have no idea how much i missed this. Leon is so sweet and protective in this one. God, i love sweet old men :(

It’s been 398 days since he made the best decision of his life, usually Leon’s decisions never have prospering outcomes; however, he definitely lucked out on this one.

You’ve fully adapted to this lifestyle that you were—with all love and care—forced into. He likes to think that it’s better for you this way; sure, you’ve been living the same day over and over again for the past weeks you’ve stayed with him.

But on the bright side, you don’t have to deal with the shit that other people your age have to deal with. While other college students worry about housing and tuition, eating the same cup ramen for dinner. His act of generosity (kidnapping you) has saved you all that trouble.

Leon takes care of everything, paying the bills, feeding you, buying you clothes, washes said clothes, and the list goes on. Keeping you safe in the bubble he created so that pretty brain of yours doesn’t work too hard.

You’re his favorite hobby.

As soon as he walks through that front door, agent Kennedy is long forgotten —crumbled up and tossed aside until he needs to save the day again.

You’re perfect.

Perfectly sculpted by his hands to fit into the mold that suits his lifestyle best. Truthfully, he’s not sure what your true personality is like. You went through phases, eyes wide open as adrenaline rushed through your veins whenever he came too close. The only time you got sleep is when you’d hyperventilate and pass out.

Then the determination arc began, begrudgingly swatting his hands away, venom dripping from each word you spoke—shattered his heart into bits.

And while this phase lasted a little longer than he would’ve liked. It was nonetheless a cloud that passed just like the one before it.

Tears beaded along your lash line, completely isolating yourself and refusing to eat. Considered starting to plan your funeral, one which he would be the only one attending.

 And while Leon doesn’t pray anymore—by an act of a miracle—it only took two weeks before crying because of him, turned into crying in his arms. Glad he didn’t have to flush you down a toilet like a fish, he wasn’t in the right headspace when he came up with that plan.

Ever since that breakthrough you’ve been nothing short than on your best behavior, reciprocating his affection and touch; the way things were supposed to be from the start. Where you always this loving? Always this clingy? Well, you now are.

His little treasure.

Kept away from prying hands and unwanted glances, all his to love. Filling that gaping hole in his chest, and emptying his cluttered brain. That may have cost you your entire personality and the rest of your life; but all is well as long as the two of you have each other.

 And while he takes his job of protecting you very seriously, practically baby-proofing his entire house, mistakes can still slip through.

As he walks through the front door of the place you both call home, your absence next to the door; tail swaying back and forth to greet him since last seeing him this morning doesn’t go unnoticed.

He calls out your name a few times, perhaps you’re asleep somewhere. That has happened a few times before, but seeing you curled up into a ball in the corner of the dark living room with tears streaming down your face is a first.

“Sweetheart?”

Your glossy eyes look up at him, lips quivering as they lock with his.

“I’m sorry.”

Reaching towards the light switch, the room lights up revealing your weeping figure. And that’s when he sees it, bloodied handprints smeared all over your thighs and arms. His heart drops, worst-case scenarios popping into his head before a single coherent thought can from.

What could you have possibly done?

The knife drawer is locked shut—triple checked that before he left— and you don’t have access to any razor-sharp object either.

“I’m so sorry.”

Stepping closer, he slowly makes his was over to your hunched form. “Hey, hey it’s okay.”

With his empty palms facing you, you allow him to kneel in front of you.

“Talk to me, baby.” he practically whispers.

“I’m sorry, daddy. I didn’t mean to break it.”

His hand reaches towards your cheek, his thumb brushing against the soft skin; noticing the way you flinch at his touch. “What did you break?”

“The glass.”

“Glass what?”

“Please don’t get mad.”

Your voice breaks before you start sobbing again. Taking in a deep breath, his hand runs through your hair while the other runs up and down your exposed calf soothingly. “I promise I won’t be mad, sweetheart. Just tell me what it is.”

“The glass- the glass cup.”

Those fucking cups, should’ve known to throw those away. In his defense, he didn’t hand them over to you on a silver platter. Took him five months before letting you switch from plastic to normal fucking forks for crying out loud.

Rubbing his temple, he nods slowly. “Did the glass hurt you?”

You nod, tears flowing slower than before yet still watching his every move attentively. “Can you show me where?”

Removing your hands off of your upper arms, you open your trembling palms to him. He places his large hands beneath yours, carefully inspecting the surface; small cuts are littered all over the area with fresh blood seeping through the injured skin.

“Gotta wash your hands. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”

Nodding again, he helps you get up before leading you into the bathroom, turning on the faucet and placing your hands beneath the cool water. You both watch as the blood tainted liquid washed down the drain, Leon’s hand rubbing your waist gently.

Your crying calmed down, leaving behind only a few sniffles and winces from the pain. Grabbing a clean tissue, he gently pats your hands dry, making sure to not put too much pressure on the scathed area; then proceeding to wipe the blood streaks strewn over your body.

“I’m gonna go grab the first aid kit, go sit on the couch, baby.” He ushers, deep blue eyes cutting through your thread of thought.

Doing as your told, you walk out of the room leaving him to search for the first aid kit beneath the bathroom cabinet before following pursuit.

It feels like he’s been picking glass shards for eternity, each tiny piece engraved in your delicate hands. He makes sure however to reward you with praise every now and then to keep you going.

‘You’re doing so good, baby.’

‘Such a strong girl, huh.’

‘Almost done, sweetheart.’

With enough patience and a few more tears each time the alcohol met your cuts, it’s not long before he’s wrapping your hands in bandages after disinfecting the surface for the last time.

“Thank you, daddy.” You mutter, scooching closer and curling up on his side like a cat. “No problem, baby.”

Leaning in, he plops a soft kiss on the crown of your head; rough hands running up and down your back comfortingly.

Your fingers manage to tug on his shirt, demanding another kiss. He chuckles lowly, grabbing your chin and placing his lips onto yours. Your lips are slightly chapped, juxtaposing their usual soft nature. And while it feels like you’re fishing for the right opportunity, you manage to straddle his lap; keeping your lips on his.

His arms wrap around your waist, pulling your chest flush against his. “What’re you doing, hm?”

He asks, softly nibbling on your lips. “Apologizing for making daddy worry?”

You nod, grinding onto his crotch; the rough material of his jeans rubbing against your panty clad clit. Slipping his hands down and onto your hips, he guides their motion. Rocking them while thrusting upwards to apply more pressure onto your clothed cunt.

 You bite your lip as slick pools on the gusset of your panties. “Daddy.”

“Tell me, sweetheart.”

You moan in response, forgetting what you were planning on saying as all your thoughts turn into mush. “Aw, cute pussy just wants to cum? Is that it?”

 “She just wants to use daddy to get off, huh?” You shake your head; unable to grab his shirt in your hand like you normally do. You’re so cute when you try to make things up for him, he finds it endearing. Always trying to bridge a gap that doesn’t even exist.

“Don’t lie, sweetheart. You only want daddy’s cock.” You shake your head even harder, eyes however still focused on the area your hips are rutting against. “Want to make daddy happy.”

He chuckles, connecting your lips together. “I’m just messing with you, doll.”

 His lips go for your neck, hungrily sucking and biting on the tender flesh; leaving a new bruise to make up for the ones that just started fading out. You whine and whimper, muscles tense as your high approaches.

“Soak those panties, and cum for me so I can stuff this needy cunt.”

And with enough filthy words whispered in your ear, and enough kisses scattered on your neck, you squeeze down on nothing as you reach your peak.

Leon drinks up the expression on your face each time, his obsession, a face that is burnt in the back of his mind reserved only for him.  

Wasting no time, he picks you up and heads straight to your shared bedroom. Placing your gently on the bed like you’re made out of glass. He does quick work of his belt, discarding the piece of leather on the floor, the rest of his clothes following pursuit.

You lay flat on your back, bandaged palms facing the ceiling as you watch him approach you. His finger hooks on the band of your flimsy shorts, pulling them down swiftly along with your soaked panties. A few open-mouthed kisses land on your hips, his eyes focused on yours as he drops the last one on your clit before caging you between his arms.

He strokes himself a few times, angling the tip of his thick length at your entrance before thrusting in. You’d probably have died if he did that a few months back, but at this point he’s managed to stretch you out enough to fit him easily –what was once painful dulled into a sense of familiarity.

“Daddy.”

“Right here, baby. Let me make you feel good, yeah?”

He fucks you deep and slow, earning a low moan out of the both of you with each thrust of his hips. “Squeezing me so well, sweetheart. That’s a good girl.”

Your hand reaches down to the hem of your shirt, pulling the fabric and revealing your plump breasts; he can’t help but feel proud. His mouth latches onto one of your nipples, lapping at the tender peak with his tongue. You squirm beneath him, your walls squeezing around his throbbing dick causing him to grunt in return.

The slow thrusts begin to pick up speed. His tip knocking the opening of your cervix time and time again, the mixture of pleasure and pain almost euphoric. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Cream my cock, sweetheart so I can fill you up.”

Listening like you always do, Leon watches as that same expression reappears on your face, your back arching off the mattress while slipping out his name in tandem. The once translucent fluid coating his length has already turned white by the time your body slumped back. Feeling lightheaded by the fluttering of your walls, the knot in his stomach snaps shooting ropes of cum till his balls went dry.

Your eyes begin to feel heavy as he pulls out and grabs a towel to clean you up. He smiles at the sound of your even breathing as you drift to sleep, giving your inner thigh a soft kiss before tucking you in bed.

“You still mad?”

A soft voice calls out for him. Walking up next to you, he tucks a few stray strands of hair behind your ears.

“Never was.”

Heading towards the kitchen, he turns the light on to be greeted with the expected sight of the incident. Sighing, he grabs the broom and begins cleaning the glass shards scattered on the floor.

Back to plastic cups it is.

divider by: @/fairytopea

[tldrthor]

promises we intend to keep | steve rogers

Summary: The Avenger's spend time with their comatose friend, Cap's sanity slips from him as he spends every night by her bedside. Is blind faith enough?

Part 2 to things we shouldn't have said (prev. classic enemies to lovers stuff) // He sounded like an idiot, but he couldn't care less. // word count: 4.3k

enjoyed? please like/reblog! you can find my masterlist here <3

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“Hi, (y/n).” He settled himself into the chair next to the bed, the familiar antiseptic smell filling his nostrils, the beep, beep, beep of her heart like music to his ears. He had hated it at first, but now, it was evidence that she was still here. There was still hope. “I’ve got a break between meetings so I figured I’d come down and say hello.”

He leaned back, watching her peaceful features as unmoving as they had been for nearly a month now. He frowned at the wires connected to her neck and chest, knowing that if she was awake she would’ve hated that. Part of him wanted to rip them off, but his more rational thinking prevented him from doing that.

Dr. Cho’s words circled round his mind, as they hadn’t stopped doing since she spoke them all those weeks ago. “She’s not out of the woods yet. She died twice on the table, and requires all manners of intervention going forward. We’ll only know the extent of the damage when she wakes up –” The doctor had paused for just a second, trying to soften what was only certain to be a killing blow. “–If she wakes up.”

Every time he remembered those words, his knees felt as weak as Bambi on ice. The nausea he used to feel every time he entered this room had faded, and the shell-shock had worn. She still occupied every moment of his thoughts, awake or unconscious. Not that he had been doing a lot of sleeping.

He opened the book at the page he had last left off at, when Sam had come downstairs and dragged the Captain to bed himself last night. “Just to recap,” He spoke to her regardless of her response to him. “Laurie confessed to Jo, but she rejected him. Beth is still sick and boy, that’s rough.” 

He cleared his throat and began reading aloud.

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“(Y/l/n), I’ve had enough now.” Natasha charged through the doors to where (y/n) lay. She threw herself down in the chair, leaning her head on her asleep friend’s shoulder, trying to gain what little emotional support she could from her usual source of sanity amongst the chaos of the compound. “The boys are driving me crazy. I think you’ve made your point; Cap is sorry – he’s very, very sorry, borderline depressed – so you can come back.”

She smiled a charming, pleading smile. But no one was there to see it. She dropped the smile after a few seconds.

“(Y/n), it’s hard without you here. No one’s the same, and Steve won’t accept any missions so we can’t even escape. Sam and Bucky are about to tear each other apart, and Cap just wallows in the gym whenever he’s not here with you.”

More silence. 

“Anyways, Cap said that he wants someone here as much as possible. And we haven’t hung out in a while, so if you don’t mind we’re going to watch the new season of Love Island together.” She kicked off her shoes, stretching her legs over the hospital bed and getting comfortable.

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The next visitor didn’t say anything as he walked through the doors, hovering by the foot of the bed. He uncomfortably brought his hands in and out of his pockets, shifting from one leg to the other. 

He eventually moved beside the bed, reaching a hand out to her forehead, to get rid of a hair that had found itself there. He stood there, staring, in silence for a while longer. He swallowed, took a breath, and spoke out loud;

“Kid, I don’t know if you can hear me.” He paused. “You probably can’t.”

He paced around the room, continuing; “I just want you to know, I got your little letter. Really, more of a stunt, very childish – anyway. I want you to know that if that’s your wish, I’ll help you out in setting up. But I also need you to know that you’re going to have to tell me that to my face. So you’ll have to wake up.”

“Also, I’m your boss and your sick pay is running out, so chop chop.” He joked to himself. He basked in the silence for another second.

“It’s not the same without you, (y/l/n). Hope to talk soon.”

“Mr. Stark, Mrs Potts is requesting your presence in the kitchen.” FRIDAY chimed in right on time. He muttered a be right up, taking one last look at his young teammate, and walked out the doors. 

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A month to the day since she was shot, Steve couldn’t sleep. Before the whole debacle, he would’ve just gone to the gym and fought it out of his system. But now, he couldn’t bear being anywhere but in the medical bay. He couldn’t even count the amount of times he had woken up in that chair, neck in excruciating pain, the book on the floor. Or, the amount of times Bucky or Sam or Natasha had come downstairs and marched him back to bed.

He couldn’t help it. The thought of her waking up alone, not knowing where she is, was his greatest concern – scratch that, his greatest fear was her not waking up at all.

He didn’t take the time to change into proper clothes, instead deciding to head down in his pyjamas – ones that she had complimented him on, once upon a time. Red flannel pants and a matching henley – she had described it as ‘lumberjack chic’ and then explained that that was a good thing. He hadn’t realised back then, but Steve now thinks she might have been flirting. He cursed how much of an idiot he was before this disaster.

He wished desperately he could turn back time to then. Before he decided the only way not to love her, was to hate her.

“It’s me, again.” He spoke, taking his familiar spot on the chair next to the bed. He yawned, getting himself more comfortable, flicking the blanket they had all collectively decided was required over his legs. “Now, where were we?” He picked up the book again, reciting words from the pages until it fell from his hand, loud snores from his mouth filling the room.

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When he awoke again, he was in the same familiar pain he always had when he spent too much time in the chair. This time he had fallen forward, his head resting on the bed and… his hand entwined in hers.

He sighed, giving himself the luxury of just a second feeling what he would never have. Her hands were soft, and smooth. Not like his own. They were warm, and comfortable, and something about her fingers holding onto his just felt right.

It wouldn’t be respectful to linger for longer than that, not without her knowing, but as he tried to pull his hand away –

Was that a twitch?

He stared at her hand, now more awake and alert than he had been all month. There was no way, he was definitely just going delirious through stress, or lack of sleep, or maybe his age had just caught up with him because –

A second twitch.

“Oh my god.” He glared daggers into her hand, as if that would do something. Maybe he really was losing his marbles. This was just wishful thinking. His heart feeling like it was about to thump, thump, thump right out of his chest. Do it again. Please, do it again. 

When it happened for a third time, and he saw it with his own eyes, he could only make a noise that could really only be described as a squeal. On his feet in an instant, his hand finding its way to her cheek, cupping her face.

There was no other sign of life. He stared and stared and stared. “Wake up, (y/n). Wake up, I’m here.” He pleaded. The words tumbled out of his mouth before he considered them; “If you wanted to prove a point, consider it proven. You’re not a liability, you’ve never, ever been a liability.”

“Just wake up. I am so, so sorry for everything.” His thumb stroked her cheek, his eyes staring at her face looking for anything that might indicate she was coming back to him. “Just wake up.”

Nothing.

He sat back down, defeated. He had gotten his hopes up, and it all came crashing back down. He placed his hand firmly back on hers as he leant his head on the bed, wet patches forming on the sheets as saltwater leaked from his eyes.

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“Cap, we’re not saying we don’t believe you —” Sam was interrupted.

Steve turned away from his friends, growing more and more frustrated with every sentence uttered. They didn’t believe him. She had moved. She was coming back, but no one would listen.

“You don’t believe me. I promise her hand twitched.” His jaw tensed, his stare as far away from his friends as he could get.

“Stevie, we believe that you felt something, but you have to admit, bud, you’ve been hardly sleeping and pushing yourself too far. Nothing was picked up on monitors, how would that be?” Bucky reasoned, sitting in the same chair where Steve had been so convinced she was waking up, just hours ago.

He had called them to the room as early as he deemed was responsible that day, and they had come running. Only to find their friend still asleep, and the captain with red eyes and bags under them that only seemed to get worse and worse the more they looked.

Sam sighed, hand reaching up to rub his temple. He had had a pretty consistent headache himself for a good couple of weeks. “Steve, I completely understand. We all want her back, but you can’t keep torturing yourself over this. She’ll wake up, just give her time.”

“Sam, it’s been a month – the doctor said if she was going to wake up it would take around a week.” Steve pleaded, the tears welling in his eyes again. He didn’t care anymore about hiding it from them. They already thought he was crazy anyway.

Sam placed a hand on his back as he wiped the water with the back of his hand.

“We’ll wait as long as it takes, but it has to be we. You can’t be here all the time, Steve. It’s no good if she wakes up and you’ve killed yourself from lack of sleep.”

“I don’t want to miss the moment she comes back.” He whispered.

Sam and Bucky made eye contact, pitying looks cast between them. 

Bucky decided to speak, seeing Sam’s heartbreak at trying to reason with their normally solid friend. “Steve, you have to go to bed – don’t argue – but I’ll stay with her. I promise that if anything happens, I will let you know in an instant.”

Steve’s lips drew into a tight line, his eyebrows furrowed. Bucky continued; “Come on, just give me a couple hours, Stevie. I’ll chat to her, we’ll listen to music or something. I promise I’ll take care of her.”

“Come on.” Sam put his arm round Steve, gentle but firmly leading him away. He stole one last glance, as Bucky pulled out his phone to put on some music.

When the boys were finally away, Bucky turned to her. “You’re causing quite a ruckus, tiger. You always liked your sleep, but this is a bit much.” He laughed, leaning back in the chair. “There’s not much to say, kid – I know that the others have been talking your ear off. We need you back.”

He scrolled on his phone a little. Looking for the playlist she had shared with him – one to blend their music tastes. It was originally just for a mission they had to go on together, but turned into one of his favourite ways to bond with her. Music. He laughed again at the name: ‘Golden Oldie and the Wunderkind’ He remembered the day she had made up the name, they hadn’t stopped laughing for hours.

He clicked shuffle, smiling as I and Love and You by the Avett Brothers came over the speakers. “I know you like this song because it reminds you of Stevie.” He teased, but let it play out. He didn’t quite let himself sing, but he did mouth the words to his favourite verse;

That woman, she’s got eyes that shine, Like a pair of stolen, polished dimes. She asked to dance, I said ‘it’s fine– I’ll see you in the morning time’.

What he didn’t tell her, didn’t dare to say out loud, was that ever since he had mentioned to Steve that she liked the song, Steve had listened to it at least once a day. Particularly after they had their usual fights.

These idiots have a lot to figure out when she wakes up. He thought to himself.

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Bucky got a few hours with her, listening to their playlist, occasionally chatting about the song choices. He briefly tried to read the book on the side, but when he saw it was Little Women, he put it right back down again. 

“Sorry, tiger. Not my vibe.” He chuckled.

The doors opened slowly, revealing a slightly-less-haggard Captain America. He had put actual clothes on, looked like he had slept at least a little bit and had even showered. Bucky gave a nod of approval, folding his arms and leaning back in the chair again.

“You feeling better?” Bucky asked his friend, who simply nodded in response. 

Buck stood, knowing that Steve wanted to be alone with her right now. To not have the pitying looks thrown at him that Bucky couldn’t help but cast. He understood, he had been there.

“See ya, punk.” He gave a hearty smile before leaving.

Steve took his rightful seat, sighing before starting the same routine they had done over, and over, and over again. He was growing so sick of this chair, and the bed, and the beeping from the machines that didn’t seem to be helping at all. 

He got through around half a chapter of Little Women, until he realised that Beth was going to die. He didn’t know how he hadn’t remembered, he had heard his mother reading this book all the way back in ‘35. He closed the book, finding death far too triggering, given the current situation. 

Just closing the book wasn’t enough, it was like it burned him to hold it. He threw it across the room in a moment of fury. Frustration swept his whole body as he spiralled, down and down and down. He was ashamed of how out of control he had become. He had always been so rational, so measured. He was always the one people came to when they needed grounding – yet he didn’t know how to ground himself.

He rested his head on her arm, his sweaty palms holding her hand with a ferocity hitherto unseen from him. Like his damn life depended on it.

Maybe it did.

“Come on, (y/n),” He pleaded with the air. With God. With her. “I know you’re mad at me, just wake up and we’ll have another shouting match. Just like before.” A brutally defeated tone weighed down his voice, rough and gravelly from the effort of his bargain. He enclosed her hand in both of his own, leaning his head against them.

A cough. 

He froze for a second, hiding behind her hand in his. The coughs continued, dry and painful sounding. Was there someone else in the room?

He took a moment to steel himself, peeling himself away from her hand, and staring at her, mouth agape like a fish out of water. “Oh my god.”

“Water.” She croaked.

He jumped up, the chair going flying backwards. He didn’t notice. With shaking hands, he poured the water from the jug on the bedside table into one of the plastic cups. He held it up to her dry, cracked lips, watching as she drank the whole cup.

“Be careful.” He spoke, instincts kicking in. “You’re on fluids, don’t overload your kidneys.”

She finished, her head laying straight back down on the pillow. He could see in her very brief movements that she was weak. He couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. Her eyes were barely open as she turned her head in his direction.

“Captain?” Her voice was rough as sandpaper, like she was straining just to get her singular words out. He just stared, incredulously.

“I’m here, sweetheart.” The pet name rolled off his tongue like he had always said it, and he didn’t even notice. “Oh, my god. You’re awake. I’m here. Don’t worry, I’m here.”

He had practiced over and over again, what he was going to say to her when she woke up. Thought about it for entire nights when he couldn’t get to sleep. His plans had been poetic and perfect – they were not ‘oh my god you’re awake.’ He sounded like an idiot, but he couldn’t care less.

Her eyes opened, slowly, and she looked around the room. “What happened?” The words were still a struggle to get out and he could tell. He wanted to tell her to rest, to save her voice for later, to recuperate. But he hadn’t heard that sound in so long, that he let himself be selfish – just one more time.

His own mouth when dry at her amnesia. She knew who he was, which was good. But not knowing how she ended up here was a bad sign. 

“What do you remember?” She was growing restless at lying down, and she was in so much pain. It felt like her whole body was made of stone, but she used all of the strength she had in her to try to sit up.

She was met by gentle hands, guiding her up and placing pillows behind her to support her. Hands that belonged to her once arch-nemesis, who looked at her now like she was the only thing that mattered in the world.

She was so confused. 

“I remember arguing in the forest.” Her eyes were wide with what Steve could only decipher as panic. “I don’t remember anything else… Why am I here?” The scared tone in her voice broke Steve’s heart all over again, but it could not take over the elation he felt at the fact that she was there.

He took a deep breath, briefly considering what he should tell her, considering all the events of the last month, in particular, that day. One of the worst days of his life.

“You were shot through the chest.” He began. “It knocked you out instantly, we barely got you here alive.” He ran his thumb softly over the back of her hand, unable to make eye contact. “You- you’ve been asleep for a month.”

He decided not to tell her of the fact she had died on the operating table. That could wait.

“A month?!” She shouted, resulting in another coughing fit. He helped her drink some more water, making soothing noises as she did so. It all felt so surreal. Every minute of every day since that moment, he had wished for this. And now it was happening. She was awake, and talking. 

Her voice started to clear; “Are you okay? Were you hurt?”

“No. Please, don’t worry about me. You saved me from being shot right before you went down – it was my fault you got hurt.”

“I don’t think that’s right.” She contorted her face into a puzzled expression, looking down at his hand, clasping hers. She said it as a mix between a statement and a question – “We’re holding hands?”

“Yes, um. I’ve been waiting for you to wake up and your hand twitched a couple of days ago so that’s why – sorry, I’ll stop-”

As he tried to untangle their hands, she closed her fist and prevented him from doing so. He watched her chest rise and fall quickly, her eyes wide.

“Please, don’t.” Her words were like a child’s as her nostrils flared. She was uncertain. He wasn’t sure he had ever seen her uncertain before, not even a flash of hesitance had danced across her features as far back as he could remember. “It feels nice.”

Maybe, he just wasn’t paying enough attention.

“Then I’ll keep holding your hand until you ask me to stop.” He promised. A gentle, sincere smile took over his features, which she tried her best to replicate. He observed her face, drinking in the colour in her cheeks and the sparkle in her eyes. 

It was a stark contrast to how they had last left off – the image replaying over and over again in his mind of her clinging to life, blood leaking from her mouth, her nose, her chest. The inky, sticky red coating his suit and his hands and his shoes. So much blood, endless. Sometimes he still felt the slick heat of it all over him. He wasn’t sure that he would ever be able to scrub that feeling from his memory.

“Where are the others? Are they okay?” (Y/n) asked, looking around the room at the various bunches of flowers and cards littered upon every surface. Steve had completely forgotten the others existed in his complete shock at her return.

He winced, knowing he should have called for them immediately. “They’ll be so happy to see you.” He spoke directly to her, and then to the ceiling; “FRIDAY, let everyone know that (y/n) is awake.”

“Yes, Captain.” The irish lilt came from above.

It was mere seconds before the doors came barrelling open, the entire team funnelling into the relatively small room, crowding around the bed and exclaiming various different versions of ‘Oh my god’, ‘You’re awake’, ‘Holy shit’. The room was absolute chaos with an unmusical cacophony.

This was allowed to go on for a few minutes, before the on-call doctor, someone (y/n) had never seen before, rounded the corner. “Okay, okay!” He shouted, “This is too much for the patient, I want everyone out – you can come in smaller groups.”

Everyone grumbled but did as they were told, each taking their chance to say ‘call if you need anything’, ‘see you later’ or ‘we’ll come back with sweets’. Bucky ruffled her hair and Natasha pressed a kiss to her cheek, muttering about how a certain Captain would be looking after her. She didn’t really understand what it meant, but a blush spread to her cheeks anyway.

As the last of them filed out, Steve turned to her and asked; “Do you want me to stay?” A certain vulnerability sewn into his question.

“Yes.” She answered far too quickly. “Please, Captain. If that’s okay.” Her voice seemed to get smaller and smaller as she spoke. “I don’t want to be alone.” Her grip on his hand tightened, both a demand and a question contained within it.

How on Earth could he say no to her? Her wide, gorgeous eyes searched his face for an answer, which he gave by settling further into the chair, pulling it even closer to the bed, if that was even possible. 

“Like I said, as long as you want. I’m here, you’re not alone.”

They sat in silence for a while, the Captain not taking his eyes away from her face. 

“(Y/n).” He had to tell her, now or never. He wouldn’t risk something like this again, things going unsaid. “I hope you know how sorry I am for what I said, all those weeks ago. It’s not an excuse, but I realised all this time I’ve not hated you, I’ve …”

She looked at him, her lips parted. Her messy hair splayed in a way where the fluorescent lights caught it, making it look like a sort of pseudo-halo. He knew it, right there and then. This was it.

“I’ve loved you. Since the moment we met.”

A shocked expression on her face moved slowly, her open mouth contorting into a soft, loving smile. She squeezed his hand, bringing her other arm over to hold it as well. Just more contact. That was all she needed.

“Steve, I feel the same.” She was still playing with his actual name, not ‘Captain’ or ‘Rogers’ or a sarcastic ‘Cap’. He couldn’t believe how it sounded coming from her – like it was a new name altogether. Like a song he was discovering for the first time.

He couldn’t help it now, he beamed. “You do?”

She nodded, licking her lips. They were so cracked, and dry. But she didn’t care.

“I– I can’t lean over to you, but… I would love to kiss you right now.”

He didn’t waste any time. Up and out of his seat in an instant, crossing what little distance was left between them. His hands reached her cheeks first, cupping them ever so softly. They breathed together, just for a second, his eyes flicking to hers almost to make sure she knew what she was doing. 

And then his lips were on hers. The kiss wasn’t like she had imagined – it wasn’t dramatic, wasn’t angry, wasn’t sudden. It was calculated and gentle and passionate. It was everything she could ever have hoped for.

They pulled apart, Steve knowing that she wasn’t strong enough to hold her breath to kiss her as long as he wanted to. His hand stroked her cheek, his eyes staring into hers. He rested his forehead against hers for a second, before moving up and pressing a kiss to it.

The look in his eyes was one of love, happiness and admiration.

“I think I’ve wanted to do that since we met.” He admitted, breathless from excitement. They smiled at each other wordlessly, growing used to the looks between not being ones of glaring and daggers, but of kindness, and warmth.

The only sound was the steady beep, beep, beep of her heart rate – a sound he had definitely decided he loved. They stayed like that for hours, before she started to fall back asleep – to rest, this time.

“Will you be here when I wake up?” She asked, as she slipped back into slumber.

“I promise.” And nothing on Earth could stop him from keeping it.

================================================

TAGS -- I've tagged everyone who requested a part two! You guys really keep my motivation up so I hope it's done you justice <3. This will be the last part for now, but I'm thinking of setting future domestic fics in this universe!

@haven-in-writing @marvelouskatie @veryaverageapple @ironwinnerwonderland @ohdrey89 @waqtzayaontmblr @shygamergirl01 @starkenobi @ynstark

p.s. please please listen to 'I and Love and You' by the Avett Brothers if you haven't before -- it's so Steve and is such a lovely song.

[mylovesstuffs]

After Hours - Jeon Wonwoo

Synopsis: What begins as a quiet evening of work escalates once again into a heated encounter that blurs the lines with your coworker. Too used to this but will it ever be something more than a casual play?

Genre: Romance, erotica, office au, dominant/submissive, power dynamics, coworkers with benefits. little bit of angst if you squint and mutual pining

Pairing: Wonwoo × fem!reader

WC: 3.5k+

Warnings: Contains smut MDNI!, no protection mentioned (please be safe y'all), explicit sexual content, BDSM themes (power play, dominance/submissiveness), explicit language, non-consensual themes (light) not proofread

The office was empty, save for the faint hum of the air conditioning and the soft glow of desk lamps scattered around the open floor. You sat at your desk, hunched over your MacBook, fingers flying across the keyboard as you tried to meet a looming deadline.

"Still here?" The low voice startled you. You looked up to find Wonwoo standing near the doorway, his tie slightly loosened, and the sleeves of his crisp white shirt rolled up to his elbows. He looked impossibly good, his dark brown eyes met yours, and you felt that familiar twist in your stomach.

"Deadline," you muttered, gesturing vaguely at your screen, "What about you? Thought you'd left hours ago."

He shrugged, stepping closer until he leaned against the edge of your desk. "Couldn't leave knowing you were still here. Thought you might need company."

The way he looked at your face, you couldn’t help but think about it again—the thing you tried not to dwell on too much. Why him? Or rather, why you? Wonwoo was the kind of guy who could walk into a room and have people eating out of the palm of his hand without even trying. Women drooled; men envied. He could have anyone exclusively, probably someone more polished, more glamorous. Someone who didn’t forget their lunch at home three days a week or spend weekends rewatching the same Netflix shows.

So why this? Why you? Why do your occasional late-night encounters blurred the lines between colleagues and something...more? It didn’t make sense to you.

And yet, here you were.

At first, you’d kept it casual—just two adults scratching an itch. You didn’t ask too many questions, didn’t expect anything beyond the arrangement you had going on. But you weren’t stupid. You knew you’d fallen for him somewhere along the way. Maybe it was the way he kissed you, like he wasn’t just after the moment but after you. Or the way he remembered the smallest details—how you liked your coffee, the way you bit your lip when you were stressed. It wasn’t just sex, though that certainly didn’t hurt.

It was how he made you feel, like every inch of you was worth his time and attention. How he touched you like your body was something to be cherished, not just used. He was warm, attentive, and so damn caring in a way that was completely unexpected for someone who usually kept people at arm’s length.

And then there were the moments that caught you off guard—the way he’d adjust your blanket when you dozed off on the couch, or the time he brought you soup when you were too sick to function. Those were the moments that stayed with you, no matter how hard you tried to convince yourself this was just a casual thing.

But of course, you still had your doubts. You’d think, Why the hell does someone like him want anything to do with someone like me? Then he’d show up at your door with, kiss you like you were the only person in the world, and you’d think, Maybe I’m overthinking this.

You snorted softly to his response. "And what if I don't?"

His lips curved into a small smile. "Then I'll stay anyway."

There it was again—that warmth, that care. Whatever these coworkers with benefits thing was, whatever it meant, you weren’t sure you’d ever figure it out. But for now, you’d let yourself get lost in him just a little longer. The room felt smaller with him this close, his subtle cologne blending with the faint scent of coffee lingering from earlier. His gaze flicked to the papers scattered across your desk.

"You work too hard," he murmured, his voice dipping.

"I could say the same about you," you shot back, trying to ignore the way your pulse quickened when his fingers brushed yours as he picked up a pen.

Silence stretched between you, heavy and charged. Wonwoo tilted his head, his dark eyes scanning your face as though searching for something. "You should take a break," he said, he is quieter now.

"And do what?"

His answer came not in words but in action. His hand cupped your cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle. Before you could react, his lips were on yours, soft and unhurried. The kiss deepened, his hand sliding to your waist, pulling you to your feet. The edge of the desk pressed against your thighs as he nudged you closer, his other hand tangling in your hair.

"Wonwoo," you breathed against his lips, your hands clutching at his shoulders.

"Let me take care of you," he whispered, his voice rough with need.

His lips trailed down your jaw, to the sensitive spot just below your ear. You tilted your head, giving him access, a soft moan escaping your lips as his teeth grazed your skin.

"Here?" you asked, a mix of nerves and excitement in your voice.

He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his smirk laced with mischief. "Here."

His hands found the hem of your blouse, slipping beneath to caress the bare skin of your waist and then your breasts over your bra. The fabric pooled at your feet, followed quickly by your skirt. His lips never left yours, his touch exploring, claiming.

Wonwoo lifted you onto the desk effortlessly, his own shirt discarded in the process. The cool surface contrasted sharply with the heat of his body as he settled between your thighs, his kisses growing more urgent.

When his fingers hooked into the waistband of your underwear, you couldn't stop the gasp that escaped you. His touch was firm yet teasing, drawing sounds from you that you didn't think you were capable of making.

"Wonwoo, please," you whimpered, your hands gripping his forearms as he worked you over with a precision that left you trembling.

You inhaled sharply as his fingers tugged at the lace, pausing to look into his eyes. He held your gaze, his eyes filled with an intent. As the lace slid down your thighs, he whispered, "Lift your legs." You wrapped your legs around his waist and lifted as he asked, his voice low and commanding. "Arms up." You complied, arching your back slightly as he slowly removed the flimsy barrier between you. He tossed it aside, his eyes locked onto yours as he spread your legs wider.

Now that you're fully naked, he pulled you more closer, his eyes blazing that made you feel utterly exposed yet adored. "Look at you," he murmured, his voice low and dripping with reverence. His hands traced the curve of your nude waist and breasts, his gaze following every inch of your body as though committing it to memory. "So perfect... you don't even realize, do you?"

The room was filled with the sound of your shallow breaths as he hovered above you this time laying you down on the desk, his touch sending shivers down your spine. His lips trailed over your breasts to collarbone, hot and deliberate, as he whispered into your ear, "You're going to be good for me, aren't you?"

You nodded, your words failing as his teeth grazed the sensitive spot below your ear. "That's right," he said, smirking against your skin. "I don't want a sound unless I ask for it. Understand?"

His hands slid lower to your vagina, teasing the edge of your patience, deliberately brushing but not giving you what you craved. Your whimper earned a dark chuckle. "Already desperate, are we?" His fingers grazed the most delicate part of the entrance, his touch featherlight feeling you're already being wet for him. "I don't think you've earned it yet"

His fingers trailed through your folds, gathering your wetness before circling your entrance again. You bit your lip, trying to hold back a whimper as he teased you. Suddenly, he thrust two fingers inside you, his palm pressing against your clit. "Look at me," he commanded, his voice strained with desire. You complied again.

His fingers moved skillfully, hitting just your clit back and forth. Your breath hitched, eyes hazy with pleasure. "Wonwoo..." you gasped trying to not make a sound, fingers digging into his shoulders for support.

He pressed closer, his lips tracing your neck while maintaining that steady rhythm. "What do you need?" as he cups one of your breasts. You could feel his hardness pressing against your thigh, his breathing becoming more ragged "Tell me what you want," he groaned softly against your neck, teeth grazing your skin "Do you want me to..." his fingers curved deeper, hitting just the G-spot "Should I keep going?"

"Yes, please," you managed to respond.

"You want me to actually fuck you now?" He asked, voice low and husky, his breath hot against your ear. His fingers continued their relentless pace, driving you closer to the edge. He nipped at your earlobe, pinched your nipple, his other hand gripping your ass. You nodded.

But he didn't give you what you wanted yet. He edged you mercilessly, his movements calculated to pull you to the brink, only to deny you the release you desperately sought.

"That's it, take it," he murmured, his tone shifting. "Pathetic how you fall apart so easily under my hands. You love this, don't you?" Your body trembled beneath him as he leaned closer, "Say it," he growled, his voice rough and commanding. "Tell me who you belong to."

"Y-you," you stammered, barely able to form coherent thoughts.

The office faded away-the desk, the papers, the deadlines. There was only Wonwoo, his breath hot against your skin, his name falling from your lips like a prayer.

"That's right," he said, his touch finally intensifying, sending shockwaves through your body. "And you'll come when I let you, not a second before." Just as he said that, his name left your lips in a broken moan as he finally pushed you over the edge, your release shattering you as he held you firmly in place.

He glared down at you, his fingers still buried inside, trembling your pussy. "You fucking disobedient little cunt," he spat, his voice cold with anger. "I told you not to come until I said so, and you just couldn't fucking wait, could you?" Wonwoo's hand tightened on your thigh, keeping you pinned on the desk as he leaned in closer. "You think you can just take what you want without earning it?" he growled, his fingers curling inside you, making your legs tremble anew.

He withdrew his fingers slowly, deliberately, leaving you feeling empty as a punishment. His hand moved to grip your chin, tilting your face up so your eyes met his. "If you want to be treated like a good girl, you better start acting like one," he hissed, his gaze cold but laced with the faintest hint of hunger.

With a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, he leaned back, undoing his belt with maddening slowness. "I should leave you like this," he mused, dragging the leather through the loops. "Desperate, dripping, and begging for me. But I'm not that cruel."

He kicked a nearby chair back and sat down, gesturing with two fingers for you to kneel in front of him. "Now, get down here and make it up to me," he commanded, his voice calm but brooking no argument. "If you're good enough, maybe I'll consider giving you what you so clearly can't stop thinking about."

You swallowed hard, your body trembling as you slid off to the floor and sank to your knees in front of him. His eyes followed your every movement, dominating you.

"That's it," he murmured, his voice low and smooth as he leaned back, spreading his legs wider. "Show me just how sorry you are."

Your hands moved to his pant, and with a shaky exhale, you pulled them down along with his boxers, revealing his hard cock. No matter how many more times you've seen his hard cock before, the sight made your cheeks flush, but you were too far gone to feel embarrassment.

Wrapping your fingers around his cock, you glanced up through your lashes for approval. He nodded, his hand resting lazily on the arm of the chair. "Don't tease," he warned.

You leaned forward, your lips parting as you took his dick into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the tip. A low groan escaped him, his hips shifting slightly as he buried a hand in your hair, guiding your movements.

"Good girl," he muttered, his grip tightening just enough to remind you who was still in control. "Now, don't stop until I say so."

You obeyed, your pace steady and deliberate, taking him deeper with each motion. His groans grew louder, his control slipping as you worked him over with desperation. Suddenly, he tugged on your hair, pulling you off of him. You gasped, your lips swollen and glistening as you looked up at him, confused and needy.

"Not so fast," he said with lust. "You don't get to decide when this ends. Get back on the desk."

You scrambled to obey, your body trembling as you climbed back onto the desk and laid back, spreading your legs for him. His smirk returned as he stood, positioning himself between your thighs.

"Now, you'll learn to follow my rules," he growled, gripping your hips as he thrust into you without warning, his movements rough and demanding.

The desk creaked beneath you, your cries filling the room as he took you with relentless precision. He leaned over you, groping your breasts hard, "Shut the fuck up," he growled, his hand tangling in your hair as he drove you closer to the edge.

Your fingernails dragged down his back as you arched into him, whimpering, "You feel so... good," you managed to gasp out, legs wrapping tighter around him, urging him deeper.

"You're just a fucking tight little cunt, aren't you?" He spat, his voice dripping with contempt as he pulled out and slammed back in, making her scream. "You love being stuffed full of my dick, don't you? You love being used like a cheap fucktoy."

When he finally let you come, his name tore from your lips like a prayer, your body trembling beneath him. He followed moments later, his grip on you tightening as he buried himself deep inside, groaning your name. "Stay with me," he whispered, his voice breaking as he reached his own release, his forehead pressed against yours.

And for the first time that night, you forgot about work.

You'd always known Wonwoo was reserved, composed. But just like tonight, every other night— he'd always show you a side of him others would've never seen before, a side that made you wonder what other surprises he was hiding.

Afterward, he pulled you into his arms, his lips brushing softly against your temple. "That's my good girl," he murmured, his voice gentle now. "But don't think I'll let you off so easily next time."

He held you close, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your back as your breathing slowed, the tension between you was replaced by a comfortable warmth.

As the haze of passion began to fade, a soft silence settled between you. Wonwoo cradled you against his chest, one hand brushing through your hair in a soothing rhythm. The warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart against your ear lulled you into a nice sense of peace.

"You okay?" he asked softly, his voice a gentle rumble that reverberated through you.

You nodded, nuzzling into him. "Yeah. Just... tired.

His lips pressed against the crown of your head in an affectionate kiss. "I figured. I didn't even go that hard on you"

You just rolled your eyes, too happy to shot bak. He shifted, lifting you effortlessly into his arms despite your half-hearted protests. "Wonwoo, I can walk!"

"Shh,his tone leaving no room for argument. "You've done enough for today. Let me take care of you."

He carried you to the small couch in the corner of the office, sitting you down carefully before draping his discarded shirt over your shoulders. His fingers worked deftly to smooth your hair, his touch tender in a way that made your chest ache. "You rest for a bit," he said, crouching in front of you. His dark eyes softened as they met yours. "I'll clean up."

Before you could protest again, he stood and began gathering your scattered clothes, folding them neatly on the desk. He retrieved a bottle of water from a nearby mini-fridge, twisting the cap off before handing it to you.

"Drink," he commanded gently.

You complied, the cool liquid soothing your parched throat. Watching him move around the room with such quiet efficiency sent a wave of warmth through you. It was a side of him you always saw-nurturing, attentive, and deeply considerate.

Once everything was tidied up, Wonwoo returned to your side, his hands sliding beneath your knees and shoulders. You squeaked in surprise as he lifted you again.

"Wonwoo!"

"You need to clean up properly," he said simply, carrying you to the small restroom attached to the office.

He set you down carefully on the counter, his hands lingering at your waist as if to steady you. Grabbing a clean towel from the cabinet, he wet it under the tap and began gently wiping your face, neck and thighs. His touch was uncharacteristically soft, his movements precise as he took care to ensure your comfort.

"Thank you," you whispered, your cheeks warming under his gaze.

He smiled faintly, something unspoken passing between you. "You don't have to thank me. Just...stop overworking yourself, okay?"

You nodded, the vulnerability in his voice tugging at your heartstrings.

Once you were clean and dressed again, Wonwoo slipped his blazer around your shoulders. "Let's get you home," he said.

The drive was quiet, the soft hum of the engine and the occasional sound of tires gliding over the wet pavement filling the silence between you and Wonwoo. His blazer felt warm and comforting around your shoulders, carrying a faint scent of his cologne-woodsy, with a hint of spice. You found yourself fiddling with the edge of the sleeve absentmindedly, stealing occasional glances at him.

Wonwoo's hands rested firmly on the steering wheel, his gaze focused on the road ahead. The streetlights cast fleeting shadows across his face, highlighting his sharp jawline and the faint crease of concentration on his brow. You wanted to say everything you guys have done so far, but the words seemed to catch in your throat.

"You okay?" he asked softly, breaking the silence without taking his eyes off the road.

You nodded, then realized he couldn't see you. "Yeah. I'm okay. Just the fact that you care even though we're not...exclusive."

He glanced at you briefly, the corner of his mouth lifting in a subtle smile. "I just did what anyone would do."

"No," you said firmly, shifting slightly in your seat to face him. "Not everyone would've. And definitely not the way you did" You stopped for a brief second and then continued, "Nobody would check up on me after meetings, dump all their deadlines on me, and leave me alone after having sex."

He didn't respond immediately but his grip on the steering wheel tightened just a fraction, as if your words had unsettled something within him. After a moment, he sighed quietly. "I couldn't just leave you there."

The weight in his voice surprised you. It made you wonder what he was thinking, what he wasn't saying. You wanted to press further, to ask why he cared so much, but the vulnerability in his tone held you back.

"Thank you, Wonwoo," you said again, more softly this time.

He glanced at you, his gaze lingering for a moment longer than before, as if searching for something in your expression. "You don't need to thank me."

The rest of the drive passed in a companionable silence. When he finally pulled up in front of your building, he turned off the engine and stepped out before you could object. Rounding the car, he opened your door and offered you a hand.

"Can you make it upstairs on your own?" he asked. You hesitated, then nodded.

Wonwoo studied you for a moment, then let out a small sigh. "Alright. But call me if you need anything. I mean it."

You nodded again, clutching his blazer tightly around you. "I will."

As you turned to go, he called out softly, "Wait."

You paused, glancing back at him. He took a hesitant step forward, his hand reaching out as if to stop you, but he quickly pulled it back. "Don't forget the blazer," he said instead, his voice lighter, almost teasing.

You smiled faintly, slipping it off your shoulders and holding it out to him. "Thanks again, Wonwoo."

He accepted it with a small nod, his fingers brushing yours briefly. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," you echoed, stepping inside the building. As the elevator doors closed, you found a text.

Let's stop playing around—just us?

[clarkeyhill]

She's not, you. | George Clarke

Fluff - inspired by Gavin & Stacey

"Tell me tomorrow, I'll wait by the window, for you"

-

The air was crisp as I strolled through the busy streets of London, the city buzzing with life even on a quiet afternoon. I was lost in thought, as I often was these days. It had been years since George and I had parted ways. Our breakup was amicable, but the feelings I had for him lingered like a haunting melody. Time had moved on for him—he was engaged now, due to be married in less than a week. For me, though, the memories of our time together were still fresh, like pages of a book I couldn’t close.

As I passed a cozy little coffee shop, something, or rather someone, caught my eye. Seated by the window was George. He looked the same yet somehow different—his familiar warmth and kindness now mixed with a certain confidence. My heart skipped a beat as I pushed the door open.

“George?”

He looked up, surprised, and then smiled. “Oh my God, hi! It’s been ages.”

We chatted like old friends. I asked about his life, and he told me about his job in social media, how he still lived in the same flat. It was as though time had folded in on itself, and for a moment, I let myself forget that he was no longer mine.

When I got home later that day, I couldn’t resist scrolling through his Instagram. He was doing so well—successful, happy. His fiancée was beautiful, blonde, and elegant, the perfect picture of someone who had her life together. I smiled but felt a pang of sadness deep down. I was happy for him, truly, but a part of me couldn’t help but wonder, What if things had been different?

The morning of George’s wedding arrived, and I couldn’t shake the thought of him. As the clock struck noon, I imagined him standing at the altar, waiting for her. My chest tightened, a bittersweet ache settling in. I whispered to myself, “If only…”

Little did I know, George was having thoughts of his own.

George’s POV

The ceremony was beautiful. Everything was perfect—or it should have been. The flowers, the guests, even the sunlight streaming through the stained-glass windows of the chapel. Yet, as I stood at the altar, waiting for her, my mind was elsewhere.

I couldn’t stop thinking about the coffee shop. About y/n.

Seeing y/n again after all these years had stirred something in me. The familiarity, the connection—it was still there. I realized then that I had never really moved on.

The organ started to play. She was walking down the aisle, radiant and smiling, but all I could think was: This isn’t right.

By the time she reached me, I knew I couldn’t go through with it. Taking her hands in mine, I whispered, “I’m so sorry. I can’t do this.”

Her eyes widened in shock. The murmurs of the crowd grew louder, but I could only focus on her.

“It’s not you. You’re wonderful. But… it’s me. I’m not the person I thought I was. I’m so sorry.”

I turned and left, ignoring the gasps and whispers. My heart was pounding as I climbed into Arthur Hill’s car, my best man. Who looked at me with no judgement.

“You’re doing the right thing,” Arthur said simply, his expression calm.

I nodded, though my chest felt tight. I had to see you. I couldn’t let another moment pass.

-

I was sitting on my couch, trying to distract myself from the day, when there was a knock at the door. I wasn’t expecting anyone. When I opened it, my breath caught.

It was George, still in his wedding suit, slightly disheveled but heartbreakingly handsome.

“George?” I whispered.

He looked at me, his eyes full of emotion. “I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t marry her.”

“What? Why?”

“Because she’s not you,” he said, his voice trembling. “Seeing you again made me realize I’ve been lying to myself. I thought I could move on, but I can’t. I can’t imagine my life without you.”

Tears welled in my eyes as I stepped aside to let him in. The world seemed to pause as we stood there, the weight of everything we had been through hanging in the air.

“Are you sure about this?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life,” he said, stepping closer. “I love you. I’ve always loved you.”

And in that moment, the years of longing and heartache melted away. It was just me and George, as it had always been meant to be.

-

🫶🏻

@arthurhillmastermind

[entitledgirly]

Let them talk - Cregan Stark x Reader

(A/N Sorry, English is not my first language.)

TW: Use of the f-word. // Nādrēsy means bastard in Valyrian.

It had not been a week since the young princess was in Winterfell and the rumors that followed her as a child in the Red Keep now also accompanied her moons away from there.

The gossip began as whispers behind closed doors, but those whispers became light conversation and no longer happened in the privacy but were discussed in the hallways as if they were about the weather.

The young woman did not care about the bitter words, they did not affect her too much, she knew that they were empty words (even if they were true) with hardly any evidence. But when those words began to be directed towards her little brothers all her animosity turned into rage. How dare they speak ill of the princes of Dragonstone around their damn older sister?

The worst part was the looks that the young woman received from the palace service, dirty looks full of judgment. But their comments and words towards her were nothing more than polite, although she could read between the lines and felt them loaded with venom. And she thought that vipers lived in Dorne and couldn't handle the northern cold well. Who would have thought there were northern vipers.

Looking at her reflection in the mirror of the room she had been given a week ago, when she arrived at Winterfell, she felt uneasy about the event she was about to attend. A feast in her honor. An honor that the gossips of the palace did not consider her to possess. She would have rejected the invitation had it not been for the fact that Cregan Stark, the Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the fucking North, had asked her himself. She couldn't not go to the celebration after being invited by the supreme Lord of the North, and even less so when her mother needed his help and army in the upcoming war.

The maid who was combing her hair smiled at her through the reflection of the mirror. When she finished braiding the brunette's hair, she politely stepped away and extended her hand to help the young woman get up from the chair. Y/n gently accepted the help of the maiden, her being one of the few people who had expressed genuine kindness towards her. She had decided not to dress too extravagantly, not as she would have dressed at home, to maintain the austerity with which northerners seemed so comfortable. A dark purple with lilac accessories along the line of her cleavage that complemented her eyes, all accompanied by a cloak that had been given to her by Lord Stark himself when he saw that she did not have an appropriate one for the cold summer that existed in Winterfell.

Three soft knocks came from the door, the young woman knew it was Cregan because he had told her that he would accompany her to the dining room and thus begin the feast. She approached the door and opened it, meeting the tall, stoic figure of Cregan, who scanned her from head to toe in return. Her eyes remained longer than necessary on the skin that showed her neckline, she knew that perhaps it was not appropriate to wear a neckline so deep but it was one thing to give up her jewelry and quite another to give up her favorite part of the dresses. Besides, she wanted to test if the man was as stoic as he always seemed or if he had any weakness, and the young princess may not have found a weakness so to speak but she had found something that made the ice-man melt a little. They had known each other almost since they were both born and in all those years Y/n had never seen Cregan look at her like that. It made her nervous. Really nervous.

He offered his arm to the princess and she accepted it, threading it into the older man's. The conversation they shared while walking to the dining room was calm, no heavy topics or deals were discussed, they only talked about the weather and what there might be for dinner. Light conversation.

Once they arrived at the dining room, they were both announced and after greeting some people who were still standing, everyone proceeded to sit down as dinner was going to be served shortly.

Dinner went well, not that she liked Northern food too much, with meats full of nerve and hard or too gelatinous parts, but she opted for the fish dish (from a winter river) that a servant offered her. During the feast, topics of revelry were discussed because the festivals of a fairly important town in the north were approaching, with less than a moon left for its celebration, and the Lord of those lands asked Cregan for his blessing for the celebration. Cregan accepted and the songs that followed were received with less joy, at least from the princess. The issue of legitimacy was brought to the table and with it, the honor of a pure house, with a worthy bloodline. The young woman felt many, if not all, eyes on her.

Now, she thought, not only the service thinks badly of me and my family but also the upper and noble class.

She decided to only pay attention to her dinner and let the rest of the guests have whatever conversations they wanted while she was on the sidelines. But, evidently, it was too much to ask for a quiet and peaceful dinner.

"And you, Princess, what do you think of illegitimacy?" the Lord of Rills asked with a raised eyebrow and a crooked smile.

The brunette gently placed her fork on her plate and with a polite smile responded, "Everyone in their home is free to do what they want as long as it does not affect the interests and common good of the rest."

"Do you really believe that?"

"Of course, My Lord, who could not think that, it is the most fair thing. You cannot always decide how things turn out, much less such gruesome issues, everyone is responsible for their actions and only their actions while the rest of us must be witnesses but not judges. We must never judge.” If she were alone she would have patted herself on the back for that answer.

"Do you think that people in high positions, like us or even more important royalty, can commit such sins?" The man asked her again after taking a sip from his glass.

"I wouldn't call it a sin, it's more of a… mistake. We all make mistakes, we can all make mistakes, we all have made mistakes and we all will make mistakes,” she felt how little by little her patience was running out, but with a somewhat harsh breath she continued her response, "Sometimes we are not able to control the wind and we must learn to live in the storm, My Lord, it does not matter if you are a noble, a king or a peasant"

"Is that what your mother told you, princess? What a fucking joke." the man laughed

“Excuse me?”

“Your mother was the first to make mistakes, marry a faggot and sleep with that— that gentleman, what was his name again? Hedwin Song?" The Lord commented while laughing

Y/n clenched her jaw and swallowed hard at that shameless mockery.

“Harwin Strong. His name was Harwin Strong, I would ask you to be a little more respectful with the dead." The brunette's voice was about to break.

“With your dead father you mean” The princess' eyes widened and her jaw almost touched the ground. At her side Cregan had a very similar reaction, but it was quickly overcome by anger. “Your mather is a whore who bedded that joke of a man and had not only one but four kids— That we know of, of course! And she pretends to have them all on the line to the throne!”

“You know you're talking to one of her children? One of the children of the true queen and heir to the damned iron throne.” Y/n felt her teeth grinding from clenching them.

“Just a bastard” he laughed at her

Cregan went to get up but Y/n put a hand on the man's, urging him to sit down again. She got up from her seat and stood right in front of her chair.

“Perhaps you, My Lord, are right and I am nothing more than a bastard, but still Targaryen blood runs through my veins and I was raised under the manners and customs of the Velaryon, therefore, I will forgive your rude words, which in another time they would have been punished with your own blood. Today I feel generous. A generous bastard.” she said from her elevated position above that of the man in front of her who was looking at her with a shit-eating smile.

"Indeed, princess, you are very generous, just as we have all been with your mother and her adventures."

Y/n grabbed her own cup and, elegantly raising it, decided to say a few last words, "Let me toast for you, My Lord." he nodded still with that ugly smile on his fucking face “I think your sincerity should be rewarded with something that I think is very Targaryen." She waited for everyone in the room to think what could the gift be. "I will send a dragon to your lands and you will see all the bastards who live in your lands burn, although perhaps you should be careful that my dragon does not burn your heir or you will have to put one of your illegitimate children in charge and no one would want that, right?" The man stopped smiling and looked askance at his wife, sitting next to him, who was frowning suspiciously.

“What are you even talking about, fucking bastard?” The man shouted, getting up from his place and facing her, but even with that he wasn’t taller than the princess.

“Oh, you didn’t tell her? You didn’t tell her how the Lord of Rills had an affair with a whore from King’s Landing 7 years ago and had a little boy?” Y/n was not a fan of gossip, but as a royal negotiator she knew that it was sometimes crucial to her dealings. The man stiffened and his jaw almost hit the floor.

“You fucking—“

“And you know other thing, My Lord?” she smiled and lowered her cup “My favorite word is dracarys,” she whispered that last part, “and I’d love to use it near you so you’d burn for all your sins” She drank the entire content of the cup, placed it on the table and left the dining room in an elegant manner, without looking back.

Later that night, while she was keeping Nādrēsy company, Cregan appeared. Y/n did not turn to greet him, she only said "Hello, My Lord."

“What you did before—“ he started but she cut him before he could finish his sentence

“—It was a mistake, yes, and I am deeply sorry but I couldn’t just sit there and wait until him decided to stop insulting my family”

“I know, I came to say that I’m impressed” cregan solemnly admitted

“What?” The young woman turned to look at him, only to find that he was a very short distance away from her.

“One day you will be the best Queen the Seven Kingdoms will have”

“I am not even in line for the throne at the moment, M’Lord”

“I’ll help you kill that fucking usurper” he said

“Wait— Wh—“ she smiled and opened her eyes with glee “That means you’ll help my mother?” she asked excitedly

“Yes, princess, I will help your mother take what it’s hers” Y/n couldn't help herself and hugged Cregan, taking them both by surprise, so she quickly separated. “If I had known you’d have done that in return I would have agreed much sooner"

“Thank you, My lord, thank you, thank you. Mother will be overjoyed the moment she knows of this!”

“Although she can wait to find out, it is late, Princess, you should retire and rest until the morrow, and then send a letter to Her Majesty." Cregan said

“You are right, M’lord”

"I will walk you to your room, My Princess."

"It will be a pleasure…Cregan"

[crushpunky]

a cameron family vacation: the beach

masterlist | kook!reader masterlist

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

The rest of the week was a blur of exploring the city, eating incredible food, and, as much as y/n tried to avoid it, falling deeper and deeper in love with Rafe. It wasn’t like she wasn’t used to spending so much time with him (it was a rarity more than a day went by without them seeing each other back home in OBX), it was more the fantastical and almost imaginative world she felt herself slip into as time stretched on. This vacation, the two of them spending days on end together hand in hand without anyone in town so much as sparing them a glance, felt like an escape. It felt like the only things that existed in the world were the two of them; no worries, expectations, gossip, or pressures, just the two of them… and she wanted to savor that. She wanted to cherish every second because she knew, the second they touched down back at home, she couldn’t look at her best friend like that. She couldn’t allow herself to. She wouldn’t allow herself to, because that would just cause heartbreak.

Y/n stretched her limbs, turning onto her back with a groan. She spared a glance over to Rafe’s side of the bed, scanning over his still resting form. His tanned back rose and fell slowly in the morning light that filtered in through the curtains. She knew this was going to be their last day there, but looking at him made her wish they could just stay in bed all day.

With a sigh, y/n moved to get out of bed, Rafe quickly flipping over, his body now facing her.

“Don’t.” He said groggily, an arm reaching out and grabbing at y/n’s torso. With a sigh, y/n sunk back into the bed, running her hand gently through Rafe’s hair. She could feel him relax further into her, his face burying itself into her pillow. He looked peaceful like this, his freckles especially prominent against the crisp white of the sheets.

“Take a picture, it'll last longer.” Rafe said, his voice muffled by the pillow. He slowly opened an eye, a smirk spreading across his lips as y/n felt her cheeks heat up in embarrassment.

“What time did Sarah and—” Y/n started, but was interrupted by a loud knocking on the door.

“Is everyone ready for the beach?” Sarah shouted from the opposite side of the door. She waited barely a second before throwing it open, revealing her and John B already dressed in their swimsuits. Rafe groaned, burying his face into y/n’s torso in an attempt to escape Sarah and John B’s sudden presence.

“Probably should’ve asked if everyone was dressed before throwing the door open, Sar.” John B said lowly, his eyes drifting over the way y/n’s hand rested in Rafe’s hair and the grip Rafe’s bare arms had on y/n’s torso. Without lifting his head, Rafe removed one of arms from y/n’s torso and flipped John B off before straightening to sit up against the headboard. He ran a hand over his face, pushing his tousled hair out of his eyes.

“You brought that swimsuit we bought downtown, right?” Sarah said, quirking her brow as she sat on the edge of the bed.

“I mean… I did, but I don’t think I’m gonna wear it.” Y/n muttered, chewing at her thumbnail. After an entire day of shopping for this particular trip, Sarah and y/n had stumbled into a little boutique. As they perused the shelves, a strappy pink bikini caught y/n’s eye. It was a bit more revealing than what she would usually wear, but Sarah convinced her to try it on. Once she put it on and came out, Sarah practically begged her to buy it, gushing about how good she looked… and how Rafe would probably like it too.

“What? Why not?” Sarah said incredulously. “You looked so, so hot in it!”

Y/n swallowed harshly, her eyes flicking over to Rafe’s sleepy face quickly before looking back to Sarah.

“I just… I don’t know…” Y/n trailed off.

“You’re wearing it. You bought it and you look hot in it. You’re wearing it.” Sarah said finally, standing up from the bed. “We’re leaving in ten, so chop chop.”

The entire walk to the beach, y/n couldn’t stop thinking about the swimsuit that clung to her body underneath her cover up. Thankfully, the walk wasn’t long, and the beach was quite sparse. The four of them set up camp, John B and Sarah quickly settling onto a beach towel as Rafe struggled to set up the beach umbrella. The salty scent of the ocean filled the air, the sun reflecting off the water in a way that made it sparkle. Y/n put her hands on her hips, soaking in the beautiful ripples of light and the warmth of the sun as it tickled her skin.

“Are you gonna get in or just stare at the water all day?” Rafe quipped, tearing y/n’s gaze away from the water. She squinted at him, a smirk spreading across his face as he shrugged off his t-shirt.

“I’ll get in later.” Y/n said, her mind flicking back to her skimpy swimsuit underneath as she sat down on her beach towel.

“Boring.” Rafe groaned, stretching out on a beach towel next to y/n. “Fine.”

The morning continued with casual (and surprisingly civil between John B and Rafe) conversation, the temperature climbing as the sun rose higher and higher. Despite the heat, y/n still couldn’t quite take off her coverup, fearful of looking too scandalous or provocative or whatever term her mom would undoubtedly use when she showed her pictures from vacation. 

“Fuck, I’m hot. I’m getting in the water.” Rafe stood up, looking down at y/n expectantly. Her eyes met his, quirking her brow as he continued to stand there staring at her.

“Are you coming?” Rafe asked, offering his hand out. Y/n swallowed harshly, her eyes flicking over to Sarah for support, but she was totally engrossed in conversation with John B. With a sigh, y/n took Rafe’s hand and rose to her feet. Taking a final deep breath, y/n reached for the hem of her coverup. Slowly, she peeled the thin fabric away to reveal the pink swimsuit she had been stressing about all day.

“Well, shit.” Rafe said simply, his eyes raking over y/n’s body in a way that made her head dizzy with worry.

“I know, it’s too much. I should’ve just—” Y/n stammered, reaching for her coverup again, but Rafe stopped her.

“No, no…” He shook his head, his eyes unable to meet hers as he continued to look at the intricate details of the swimsuit. “You look good. Like, really good.”

Y/n felt her cheeks warm up, her mind racing a mile a minute as she opened her mouth to respond.

“Hell yeah she looks good! She looks hot!” Sarah hollered, a wide smile on her face as she looked at y/n. Y/n shook her head bashfully before turning back to Rafe, whose gaze lingered on her body for a second before flicking back to meet her own. He blinked quickly, clearing his mind, before a sly grin spread across his face. A sly grin that she recognized all too well: he was up to something.

“What’re you—” Y/n started, but Rafe had already started moving. In the blink of an eye, his arms were around her bare torso, hoisting her over his shoulder before running towards the water. Y/n laughed, her hands grabbing at Rafe’s back as he reached the water.

“Rafe Cameron you better not—” Y/n squealed, but he had already jumped into the ocean, sending the both of them under water in a jumble of limbs. She emerged from the water, swiping her hair out of her face as she took in a gasp of air. Rafe emerged next to her, his hair plastered to his forehead and a wide grin on his face. Y/n smiled back at him, the two of the giggling. The moment didn’t last very long, however, when Rafe’s eyes flicked downwards before widening. Y/n’s brow furrowed at his sudden change in mood, her gaze following his to notice that in the chaos of being thrown under water, her top had come undone, rendering her chest entirely bare.

“Shit!” Y/n said, quickly grabbing at the cups of her bikini and holding them against her. Rafe closed his eyes, quickly turning away in an attempt to avoid looking at y/n’s exposed form. Y/n felt her heart pounding as she tried her best to tie the strings behind her, her eyes stinging with the salt of the ocean and a flood of embarrassed tears.

“I– I’m sorry I didn’t— I didn’t see—well, I did see but I didn’t mean to.” Rafe scrambled, his back still to y/n and his hand firmly clamped over his eyes. Y/n groaned, finally able to get the top most of the way back on. She felt so, so humiliated. She wanted to wear the swimsuit to feel hot and confident, but now she just looked like an idiot as she pinned the fabric to her chest. What was that term, ‘lipstick on a pig’? Well this most certainly proved that… no amount of sexy swimsuits could disguise the fact that Rafe could never, and would never, see her like the girls she’d see him with at parties. The ones he’d kiss or laugh with, delicately touch their exposed skin… no. He’d always just see her as this embarrassment.

“Fuck, fuck I can’t— I can’t—” Y/n took in a ragged breath, her eyes darting back to the shore, thankful none of the beach goers seemed to have noticed her mishap… but she didn’t really care if some random tourists saw her make a fool of herself. She did, however, care if Rafe saw her look like a fool, and he most certainly had. For once she just wanted to feel sexy, hell she wanted Rafe to think she looked sexy as embarrassing as it was to think that, and now she had embarrassed herself.

“D– Do you need help?” Rafe said lowly, hesitantly turning around as he heard y/n sniffle. She was mostly covered now, but the tie that would usually rest on the nape of her neck still hung loosely on her arms. She couldn’t meet his eyes, still feeling overwhelmed from the whole situation, but she did nod. Rafe tentatively raised his hands as she turned her back to him, his fingers shaking lightly as he tied the strings together. His fingers lingered, tracing her skin before retreating back towards himself. She could feel his breath on the back of her neck as she squeezed her eyes closed, a single tear falling down her cheek.

“Thanks.” Y/n muttered before trudging back to the beach.

“Hey– y/n, it’s fine. You don’t have to—” Rafe started, following her as they waded through the water.

“Just stop, Rafe.” Y/n snapped, finally making it out of the water and onto the sand. She quickly went to her coverup, throwing it over her soaking wet body before shoving her items back into her beach bag.

“Y/n, wait, please. I’m sorry. I– I don’t think anyone saw, I swear.” Rafe said, grabbing y/n’s arm in an attempt to stop her departure. Y/n shook her head, trying to pry her arm from Rafe’s grip.

“What’s wrong? Are you—” Sarah started, but was cut off when Rafe shot a dangerous glare at her.

“Yes, people saw, Rafe.” Y/n sighed, her water eyes finally meeting his. “You did.”

“I– I’m sorry. I didn’t — I’d never mean to make you uncomfortable.” Rafe let out a shaky breath, his cheeks flushed. Y/n looked back at him, her bottom lip trembling with embarrassment.

“I… I’d hate to ever make you feel uncomfortable or scared or embarrassed— shit, I’d probably kill anyone else who did.” Rafe chuckled slightly, which brought a bit of a grin to y/n’s face that made the churning in Rafe’s stomach lessen.

“I promise you, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about, a’ight? It… shit happens. That doesn’t change the way I see you.” Rafe said lowly, his hand still resting lightly on y/n’s arm. Y/n closed her eyes, taking a deep breath at Rafe’s words. They helped to clear some of the nagging, anxious, and self-deprecating thoughts in her head, that he hated her or was disgusted by her, but only further solidified the idea that he didn’t see her like that. Like how she wished he would see her.

“Thanks, boy.” Y/n whispered, Rafe’s smile widening as he pulled y/n into a hug. Her face smushed into the dampened skin of Rafe’s chest, the thrum of his heart echoing in her ears before they pulled away.

“If it makes you feel any better—” Rafe said, to which y/n cringed.

“Don’t talk about my tits, please.” Y/n groaned, pushing Rafe away lightly.

“Ok, ok, fine…” Rafe trailed off, a smirk spreading across his cheeks as he raised his brows teasingly.

“I’m gonna slap you.” Y/n said pointedly.

“Ok, ok! Sorry…” Rafe said, his attention suddenly diverted when his phone went off. He rushed over to it, checking the notification before quickly throwing his shirt on.

“Seriously, what the fuck is going on?” Sarah asked, propping herself up next to John B to scowl at Rafe as he grabbed y/n’s beach bag from her, slinging it over his shoulder.

“We, um, have to go!” Rafe scrambled, taking y/n’s hand as he started leading her down the beach.

“What—” Y/n started as she tossed her towel over her shoulder.

“We have to get ready for your surprise. And I don’t want to be late.” Rafe said simply, his pace rapid as they continued up the trail.

“Rafe Cameron doesn’t want to be late? What is going—” Y/n asked.

“It’s a surprise!” Rafe grinned, his cheeks light pink and his eyes filled with a mischief that made y/n’s stomach churn.

[anon-sect]

Picture source: Instagram account: @Madnikemaster

Travis heard a knock on his front door. He opened it to see a FedEx delivery guy holding a package for him. He handed over the device for him to sign for the package. He saw it was an overnight delivery sent directly to him. After signing for it, the guy left.

Travis wondered who was sending him a package. He opened it to see a note address to him. It was from one of his devoted followers. He read the note before opening the box in the wrapping.

"I know you were looking for this kind of shoes, but they were hard to find online. So, I used a special formula that would help me turn into these shoes. The formula is temporary and only lasts a week. Afterward, I would revert back to my human form. Inside the box is provided another formula that will make this form permanent and durable. Should you decide, it's available to you, but I hope your mercy will be shown." The note read out.

Travis opened the box within. He saw the sneakers he had been wanting for a long while. He also saw the vial that would make it permanent. He thought about talking to the sneakers, but that sounded silly. The guy wanted to be his shoes. He should be treated as such.

He immediately tried in the sneakers. They felt so good on his feet. And they looked like his style. He thought about using the formula now but changed his mind. Travis decided he would make up his mind later on in a few days. For now, he wanted to enjoy his new shoes despite what they really are.

'Jake was happy to be worn on the feet of his favorite person on Instagram. The socks were a little dirty, but he didn't mind it. The experience, though, was slightly different than he initially imagined it. It was quite painful being walked on. It was like his nerves were dialed up by a thousand. He face being pressed on really hurt. Not to mention the odor of the socks seem more intense the longer he stayed in this form. Something else he didn't expect happened. He could feel every surface he was being pressed up against. He could feel the carpet and hardwood floors beneath him. He could also taste the saltiness and dirt of the socks pressing on his insole face. It wasn't exactly a good taste. Being a pair of sneakers now seemed way different than he imagined. He didn't want to be stuck this way forever. He hoped the guy would show mercy in five days or so.

Four Days Later......

Travis absolutely loved his new sneakers. They were so super comfortable and supportive of his feet. He literally had worn them all four days. He would go to the flea market to sell his product while wearing his new sneakers. He went to work wearing his new sneakers. He wore them to the gym and hanging out with friends. By the fourth day, the sneakers had a ripe odor of his sweaty feet all in them. He took the vial that came with the sneakers and emptied the entire contents onto both shoes. The liquid was absorbed into them. Both sneakers were left completely dry. He knew exactly what he had done. He didn't want to lose a perfectly good pair of sneakers despite the material used to create at them. During the entire four days, he never spoke to the sneakers despite them being conscious of what his feet did to them. It was the poor loser's choice to literally put his fate in his hands. To get rid of perfectly good sneakers would have been a stupid choice in his eyes.

Jake felt his form become permanent the moment the liquid got absorbed into him. He could never change back to normal now. He reeked of his owner's foot sweat and odor. His insole face had been molded by his owner's feet that there was no going back to the new. The fact that he was treated like a regular pair of shoes made him feel like just an object to the guy. It was so cruel to him. He practically had worship the guy prior to all of this. To treat one of his followers as nothing but his footwear felt so humiliating and degrading. He could at least talk to him since knowing the truth. Yet, he should have realized his fate. He let a dominant guy wear him as his sneakers and have control to decide whether it's permanent or not. This was his fate. He had no choice but to accept it even though he didn't want it to be permanent.

[sturnxies]

ᝰ Coincidence? ᝰ

first fic of the “Everthing I Know About Love” series by @sturnxies

Synopsis: Nick had a theory, and once Nick had a theory, he wouldn’t let it go. You and Chris? There was something there, even if both of you denied it every chance you got. But Nick wasn’t blind—he saw the way Chris softened around you, the way your laugh lingered just a little longer when he was nearby. To you, it was all just coincidence. To Nick, it was fate waiting to be pushed. And if neither of you were going to admit it, well… that’s what friends were for.

Warnings: Fluff, meddling Nick, oblivious mutual pining, slight tension, swearing.

as sweet as a melody, Sophie .ᐟ

Nick had been watching the two of you for weeks. Chris would roll his eyes every time you teased him, but not before the corner of his mouth twitched in a barely-there smile. And you? You’d blush whenever Chris called you “doll,” pretending it didn’t affect you while fumbling with whatever was in your hands. Nick wasn’t stupid—he’d seen this dance before.

“You’re telling me it’s not weird that you both showed up back here at the exact same time? Again?” Nick asked, leaning back on the couch with an exaggerated look of disbelief.

You frowned, clutching the takeout bag tighter in your hands. “It’s not like we planned it. I was just hungry.”

“And I was just dropping something off,” Chris added, crossing his arms defensively. His tone was clipped, but his eyes flicked to you for a second too long.

Nick smirked. “Riiight. Just a coincidence, huh?” He dragged the word out, looking between you like he was solving the world’s greatest mystery. “Funny how these ‘coincidences’ keep happening.”

“Drop it, Nick,” Chris muttered, walking past him to grab a pepsi from the fridge, typical of him to.

But Nick wasn’t one to drop anything. “Oh, come on. You’re telling me there’s nothing going on between you two? Nothing at all?” He pointed at you, then at Chris, like he was physically connecting the dots.

“There’s nothing,” you said quickly, your cheeks heating up. “We’re just… friends.”

“Sure. Friends who just so happen to act like they’re in a rom-com every time they’re in the same room,” Nick shot back, grinning.

Chris returned from the fridge, opening his soda and glaring at Nick. “You’re imagining things.”

Nick raised an eyebrow. “Am I?”

The silence that followed was deafening. Chris shifted on his feet, taking a long sip of his drink while you pretended to examine the takeout bag like it was suddenly the most fascinating thing in the world.

“Okay, fine,” Nick said, standing up and throwing his hands in the air. “If you guys want to keep playing this game, go ahead. But don’t think I’m not watching. Coincidences my ass.” He walked out of the room, leaving you and Chris alone in the awkward quiet.

After a moment, Chris cleared his throat. “He’s… annoying.”

You nodded, staring at the floor. “not..—all the time.”

But when your eyes met, the heat in your cheeks only grew. For a split second, it felt like Nick might’ve been onto something after all.

taglist:

@sophand4n4 @chrisdollete @sweetobservastionface @bells-sturn @shadowthesim @lypsiiii @wh0remikasas @angelic-sturniolos111

im creaming. anyways i hope u liked this 🤤

dividers + doll!reader by @bernardsbendystraws

[animalsalvationassociation]

Calling all Octo-Agents!

Yes! You! Please read till the end, and if you don't have the patience/energy for it rn, come back later! It'll be worth it I promise!

So the holidays are now pretty much over, (except for New Years ofc, but I digress.) meaning I've been looking for new ways to improve my Au. You see, it's come to my attention that I'm not as organized or as thorough as I thought I was.

I've created a lot of lore/characters for this Au, but not very many people really know what's going on anymore. Even I get lost, and it's been a little frustrating ngl. So, seeing as this blog is officially over a year old, I think it's time to "fix" my mistakes and take a new approach.

Ya'll might've noticed that I've been slowing down on content. I haven't been spending as much time on my art, meaning the quality (well I wouldn't say it's gotten worse) hasn't been as strong as some others I've created in the past.

(Don't get me wrong, I'm not making a resolution for the new year, that's dumb and we all know those never last.)

So here's what I'm promising instead since this clearly is the only thing I'm allowed to work on at the moment (not saying I don't have other projects, but if I want to actually publish this story at any point I'm going to have to spend as much time as I can on it, meaning I have to make some sacrifices - RIP my FNaf's & Undertale fanfics)

1. Full Character Redesigns

Taking all the core characters (The Octonauts / Octo-Agents / Y.N. & Fae / The A.S.A. / C.L.A.D.E. / etc.) and giving them a full reference sheet with details, headcanons, and an updated design.

Creating family/relationship tree for those characters (parents/siblings/love interests/etc.)

Family/Team “Photos”

Crossovers (I will still be doing multiple crossovers and soon they will get their very own redesigns!)

2. Updating the Master Post

3. Updating the “Pinned” Blog Post

For reference this will no longer be the current top post with all of the A.S.A. members, but a poster I will create for the fanfic to make the blog appear cleaner. (I won’t delete that post I’m just going to unpin it since the designs are old and not as useful as they used to be)

4. Asks will open January 1st, but I will not start answering any asks before February 1st!

That is so I can properly prepare and reevaluate the blog’s content so there is more information available to anyone who wants to ask questions for the Octonauts/Octo-Agents.

5. A.S.A.’s Rating & Genre (Fanfic)

This story will now be classified as Cryptozoological Fiction, with partial Horror / Science Fiction & will be drawing straight from Folklore & Mythology. (For “Sci-Fi” don’t think space/aliens, think Cryptids in a scientifically evolved world.)

The rating is now PG-14

(Poll Results)

6. Fanfiction

This is really for the fanfiction itself. I’m still trying to figure out how to go about this. As of this current moment I have 1, maybe 2 chapters written out, and soon I hope to have more. However I am my own editor/beta reader, so it might not be as polished as I’d like to be, but I’m just going to have to accept that.

Unless I can find a bunch of people who can do that stuff for me, for fun, that’s the state this story will be in. You’ll have to have patient with me, I’m using all the tools I have at my disposal (Grammarly, Google Docs, LibreOffice, etc.) but I am a human with heavy ADHD and reading/comprehension disabilities, so please be kind.

7. Weekly Posts

I will still be posting weekly, just not on Tuesdays. I realize it’s only been stressing me out to post on that day every week and so I’ve been abusing my attempts at a proper sleep schedule because of it. I still work a very busy retail job and will have to get a secondary job sometime soon, so unfortunately you’ll just have to add me to your notifications if you want to know when I’ve posted.

8. The Future . . .

This one is for anyone who’s gotten this far. I want you to know that the Octonauts still mean so much to me. Even if we aren’t getting updates anymore, the community is still somewhat alive even if it's only a few of us. Maybe one day we’ll get our kickstart, but for now I will continue making content until I’m satisfied with the story and it’s ending. If I stray every now and then, that’s just because I have the attention span of a goldfish with a million hobbies and fandoms that constantly need attention. I love you guys and I promise to do my very best to make my mark on the internet, even if it’s for a silly kids show about talking/walking/nerdy animals who save fish every day.

9. January's Posting Plan

Week 1: Finishing the Octonaut's Headcanons

Week 2: My Christmas gift to the Community

Week 3: Silly Y/N & Fae Content (No it doesn't make sense, deal with it)

Week 4: Screencap Redraw

Week 5: Starting Redesigns

If you made it this far . . . here's a cookie and the secret formula.

🍪🍾

[the-golden-comet]

✨🌺 Writing Share and Questionnaire Tag 🌺✨

Hello, everyone! Thank you so much for tagging me! If you’ve done so recently, know that I appreciate you and was probably not alerted (sorry if I missed any!) HOWEVER, I did catch a questionnaire tag here from @willtheweaver ! Thank you for the tag! 💛✨

I’ve written some progress from ITROG, and I’d figure I’ll share a little more of Tyrell’s personality through these questions. Stick around for a story snippet at the end 💫

My questions:

1. What would it take for you to forgive someone who wronged you?

Tyrell: (snorts in a sneer) Hel if I know. Usually if someone crosses me, they’re not comin’ back into my good graces anytime soon.

2. You are given the chance to resurrect someone you loved for 24 hours. Would you do it?

Tyrell: Já, of course I would! Who wouldn’t? Odin’s blessing, I’d keep móðir alive a lot longer if I had the chance.

3. What is the one job you don’t want?

Tyrell: Probably being second in command to a man like Bartok….ugh, nei. Someone with a stick shoved that far up their own ass would be tastin’ tree bark on their tonsils. Nei, þǫkk.

And speaking of Bartok, here is a bonus writing share from ITROG! ✨

On the route to the food storage, Bartok snickered over his shoulder: “What’s wrong with yer sonr? Did he have another faint?”

“That’s none of your business.” Stefan answered curtly.

The warrior whistled through his teeth. “Ah, it’s a shame….you aren’t thinking of enlisting him in the Ursyne Trials, are ya’?”

“Haven’t decided yet.”

“Ya’ can’t be serious, Chief.” Bartok scoffed. “Imagine: Tyrell climbs up Feldin’s Peak, and halfway his heart gives out….”

“…..” Stefan ground his teeth in silent seething.

“…..Or when he has to duck under the icy wake. If the cold isn’t enough to shock his system to shutdown, the faint’ll due him to drown 30 deep until his skin’s the color of a Frost Jötunn—”

“—Enough, Bartok! Must you be so descriptive about my SON?!” The viking chief lashed out. “And keep those Hel-forsaken demons off of your lips before I sew them shut with runic thread.”

A nervous laugh crested Bartok’s voice “My apologies, chief. I don’t mean to rattle you. Only meant to warn….” He shrugged in nonchalance. “…..I’d be rightfully worried, though. These trials are no joke.”

“I know. They’re to train warriors—the strongest to lead the Bear Clan…..” Stefan nodded in conviction. “…..of which my son shows heart.”

@gioiaalbanoart and @wyked-ao3 , you’re gonna need the shovel for THIS one 😂

Thank you everyone! If you’ve previously tagged me, make sure to poke me twice—Tumblr notifications can be hit or miss sometimes, and I love seeing what everyone’s working on! ✨

Speaking of tagging, let me tag the following (no pressure, join if you wish ✨): @wyked-ao3 , @gioiaalbanoart , @jev-urisk , @tragedycoded , @autism-purgatory , @finickyfelix , @theink-stainedfolk , @drchenquill , @deanwax , @the-inkwell-variable , @mysticstarlightduck , @illarian-rambling , @leahnardo-da-veggie , @ominous-feychild , @mrbexwrites , @sharkblizzardblogs , @agirlandherquill , @rhikasa , @houseplantblank , @justabigoldnerd , @justanotherchangeling , @pippinoftheshire , @noxxytocin , @alinacapellabooks , @seastarblue , @talesofsorrowandofruin , @theaistired , @paeliae-occasionally , @aurumni-writes , @smellyrottentrees , @lavender-gloom , @cowboybrunch , @aziz-reads , @dyrewrites , @kaylinalexanderbooks , @theeccentricraven , @birdycage , @nczaversnick , @honeybewrites , @somethingclevermahogony , @topazadine , +open for whoever else wishes to join! ✨

Your questions for your OCs (in cut/paste format) 👀✨

1.) What location is always considered a home to you? 2.) Do you enjoy traveling with company, or alone? 3.) How many landmarks in your world have you visited? Were they fun? Horrifying? A place to remember?

Thank you all again! I’m excited to pick up ITROG and (hopefully) answer more questions and games about the story! Have a great week everyone, and Happy New Year! 🎊✨

[chaosduckies]

WHAT

I was so unprepared for this smh-

oh my gosh I can’t thank you guys enough 🫶 it means a lot to me, and I mean it!

If im being honest, I have no idea what i was going to do to celebrate, but I hope that this is good enough unless someone has a better idea:

I will be doing writing commissions (for free ofc because y’all are amazing). It can be pretty much any prompt as long as it’s sfw and in my comfort zone (I’ll let you know if it’s not)

Characters can range from my own (a scenario ik a lot of you are dying to read of my OC’s perhaps?), your own OC’s (please give me a ref or smth please TwT), or it it’s just a prompt I’ll make random characters- (please specify what gender you want the main characters to be)

I’ll keep the commissions open for a week or longer depending on what happens, but thank you all again for 100 followers! It means a lot to me and I hope you all have an amazing day/night like the amazing people you are! :D

[dragonagepolls]

how long do we think it’ll take people to finish veilguard. a month? two months?

[acepandemi]

You wanna know something that I think sucks?

There are things I love doing, that I would like to do frequently, even every day if I could. But, for various reasons, I actually can't do these things more than occassionally, and sometimes with nasty consequences.

For instance: I'd love to be able to write more. I love making up stories, I have so many ideas that I want to put on paper so bad. But for whatever reason, actually writing (well, you know, typing) is one of the most energy-draining activities in existence for me. I don't know why, just like I don't know why yardwork is so much more draining for me than housework (which is draining enough but yardwork is worse) other than "It's an Autism thing". But if I write even a short chapter I am so tired afterwards, and it sucks. (writing essays was even worse, there's a reason I regularly have nightmares about having to write essays)

Cooking is another example. I like to cook, and bake, and try out new recipes, and I'm actually quite good at it. I'd love nothing more than to be able to cook every day. In reality? I manage to cook maybe once a week, and it completely exhausts me. It's one of the reasons I struggle with eating healthy. (Yes, I am familiar with batch cooking, that's what I usually do when I do manage to cook, so at least I'll benefit from it for several days.)

The one I'm maybe most salty about though, is swimming. I hate sports, like really really badly. I have a lot of sports-related trauma (long story, combination of pushy adults and undiagnosed disabilities, both of the physical and mental variety), and there really isn't any sport or form of exercise that I actually enjoy. Except swimming. I love swimming, I love the feeling of being in water, and how weightless and free swimming makes me feel, and that I can move around in the water without pain. I wish I could swim a few laps every day.

I'm allergic to chlorine. No, really. If I go to a chlorine pool, I get sick for at least a week, maybe two. Proper, lie-in-bed-to-miserable-to-move sick. Swimming lessons as a kid were fun. I was sick for an entire year, to the point I'd forgotten it is possible to breathe through your nose. The only pool around these parts that doesn't have chlorinated water (saline instead), is a fancy spa pool on the other side of the border, too expensive and not easily accessible enough for me to regularly go to. As for swimming in natural water, there's two local "swimming holes" but of course that would only be an option if the weather is nice enough (which it usually isn't, especially with my specific physical limitations [I have, in fact, gotten sick before after going swimming in these waters]), at which point it immediately gets ridiculously crowded, which, yeah, no thanks.

Sometimes people get sceptical about me being disabled, saying things like: "Oh, so you can't work but you can do fun stuff? Sounds suspicious!" (Like when I tell people I like hiking. It's decompression for me.) And I tell them: "Ehm, no, actually I can't." (I can't go hiking as often as I'd like either, I have plenty of days where I'm not even able to leave the house.)

Yeah, being disabled sucks. I've accepted it, but I don't like it.

[foragings]

collapses. it has been <48 hours without my partner and i miss them so much

[tonycries]

SOOO ANXIOUS

Synopsis. When he’s a 10 but the pulI-out game is non-existent.

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

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, creampíes, breéding, breaking the condóm, overstím, Gojo’s powers going haywire, spítting, cúmplay, NÉEDY BOYS, marathon séx, chokíng, SLIGHT dàddy kínk (Nanami’s), jealousy (Sukuna), first times (Choso), limitless, exhíbitionísm (Sukuna), true form! Sukuna, dp, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.9k (wild omg)

A/N. Ty to that one anon for reminding me of Gojo and his limitless, I just had to. Hope y’all have a lovely day <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - When life gives you…

Dammit, Toji knew he should’ve looked over your shopping list closer. He knew he should’ve spent just a little longer at the convenience store searching for that special brand the two of you always used - the only one that could fit his massive size - instead of rushing home like a madman to fuck you sloppily into your silken sheets.

He knew. 

But, well, feeling that thin excuse of rubber that was once coating his achy cock snap open - crashing his raw, leaky tip right against the bottom of your syrupy pussy, bruising - he certainly didn’t have any regrets either. 

“Whoops.” you hear Toji’s ragged, unapologetic huff against your ear. Lips quirking up into a smirk when you’re looking up at him in question with those cockdrunk eyes of yours. “Broke the condom again.” he explains. 

And as if to confirm, he’s sliding a calloused palm right down to the bulging area of your slit, sliding his eager fingers along the edge of that glossy piece of tattered rubber, “Now what do you suppose we do about that, ma?”

What?

And it’s all you can do to whirl your glassy gaze down at where he was already admiring. The sinful sight of your ravaged pussy winking lewdly up at you - puffy lips spread to bulge about his angry, red cock. Beading a sheen of your sweet sweet juices down his length, being swallowed up greedily. His raw length. 

“Toji–” you hiss, digging the balls of your heels at those dimples down the bottom of his spine, making him hiss in delight. “You bought the wrong ngh- brand of condoms? Again? This is the fifth time this week.”

And oh he found it so cute when you’re mad at him like this, pretending like your absolute slut of a cunt didn’t just get wetter at the feeling of his cock throbbing against your walls. Milking him so good that he can’t help but let his addicted hips move in lingering thrusts, jamming into your g-spot over and over like a little apology. 

He’s humming, “Accident- ouch!” 

The thick head of his cock pulses even deeper inside you when you give his muscled pecs a bratty smack. “Fine fine- I may have uh- rushed jus’ a bit.” As if to wipe away that tiny bit of guilt in his words, Toji’s hips are thrashing harder into you, merciless. “But heyyyy—” he leans down to drag his lips against your own in a messy kiss. “Y’know what they say, when ngh- l-life gives you the wrong pack of condoms, give her a creampie.”

You narrow your eyes, “Y-you’re such a-”

But within a millisecond, he’s dragging his swollen cock out of your snug cunt - barely, just enough to pull off those flimsy dredges of whatever was left of his condom after those bullying thrusts he’d been planting on your poor pussy. 

“I’m jus’ being resourceful, woman” Toji chokes out when you bite down on his collarbone at the audacity. Before plowing on, words dripping with faux-apology, “Ahhh what to do, such a shame I forgot to get the r-right condoms. Whatever shall we do, ma?”

Before diving straight back into your heavenly entrance, purposefully taking his time to rub against every hidden nook and cranny of your walls. Toji throws his head back, defined abs bowing into you, “I know. How about this time insteada pulling out, you finally let me cum inside?”

And you knew Toji had such a mean cock, and fucked you even meaner. But fuck this was ridiculous. 

“Ngh- T-Toji!” you’re keening with every heavy smack of his balls against your stinging ass, being rocked further and further up the drenched mattress with the force of his sharp jabs. “You’re lucky you feel too ngh- good this way.”

“Heh, see? What did I tell ya? Now fuckin’ come-” Thick fingers wrap around your hips, pulling your back down, down, down - deep to spearhead his cock into your sweet spots. “-here-” Rendering you unable to escape, unable to do anything but be splayed out like such a slut while he’s molding your cunt to the shape of his length. Frenzied. Crazed. The complete opposite of the smugly gentle kisses he presses to your teary cheeks, “-and take my actual cock like a good girl, doll. Lemme make you a mama.”

The thought has you letting out such pitiful whimpers, thighs quivering. “Hah- m’gonna cum. M’so close, Toji-”

Gripping him so tight you could feel the outline of his prominent veins, the sensitive spots along his shaft. Toji’s brows furrow in concentration, letting out a sultry drawl of words, “Yeah? Is this pretty pussy gonna cum?” He reaches down to toy a long index around your neglected clit, sending your eyes rolling back with a moan. “Gonna be stuffed full of my seed like she’s supposed to?”

You can only get out a few bleary nods, and usually Toji would tease you a little more - have you begging and crying. But right now he’s so fucked. 

The feeling of your squeezing walls too tight, the crashing of his sensitive tip against your spongy g-spot too much that the only thing he can grit out is a low, “Then cum- cum f’me, doll.”

 He feels it before you realize you’re cumming, just running on wave upon wave of pure electricity running down your spine while Toji ruts into you so animalistically. Reeling back only for a few sloppy, solid half-thrusts - because you couldn’t bear to separate too much from your cunt - before spilling into you.

And - oh, he was only mad he didn’t do this sooner.

“Oh this is the stuff- fuuuuck this- is- what I needed- take it.” Thick rope upon rope of his hot cum, decorating your saturated walls. So much that it was gushing out of you with each pump of Toji’s hips fucking it deeper inside you - the thought of pulling out not even daring to cross his mind. Oozing. Messy. “Take it all. Make me a daddy again, why don’t ya.”

After all, he did pick the wrong brand for a reason, right?

♡ NANAMI KENTO - Family matters!

The office can be loud - given, it’s hours past everyone’s shift and you and Nanami were the only ones cooped up in his office working overtime right now. 

But still, the office can be loud - which is why Nanami Kento isn’t exactly sure he hears you correctly the first time. Not until you keep looking at him with that sultry, determined graze, spit-glossed lips moving to repeat, “I want a baby, Ken.”

It only takes three seconds for him to lock the door and shove you against the cool mahogany of his desk, bunching up that cute pencil skirt of yours at the waist. Which, Nanami thinks, unbuckling his expensive pants to swipe his angry tip between your slobbering slit, is three seconds too late in his opinion.

“You really wan’ me to disrespect your cute cunt this way, my pretty lil’ wife?” he’s purring into your ear, just a soft reassurance before he absolutely fucking ruins you. “Because m’not going hah- easy on you this time.”

And maybe you’re a genius, maybe you’re an idiot who doesn’t know what’s good for her - because you flash him a grin, “So are ya gonna fuck me or not?”

Soon enough, that grin was turning into your jaw sagging open lewdly, drool trickling down the corner of your lips with every bullying squeeze of Nanami’s massive cock inside you. Stretching out every inch of your gummy walls around his swollen girth. 

“Oh God—” you’re moaning, eyes rolling to the back of your head with each harsh ram. Wiggling hips mindlessly torn between running away and fucking yourself back onto your husband’s bludgeoning cock for more. 

He’s shutting you up with a gentle suck on your candied lips, humming into the kiss, “Jus’ ‘Ken’ works fine, my love.”

And it takes you a few seconds to register his remark - a few, dizzying seconds of being spearheaded by Nanami’s fat tip. Roaming, heavy balls smacking the fat of your ass when he angles his hips just right to ruthlessly kiss against that one sweet spot he knows you love so much. Swirling his furious tip around to find-

“Oh fuck!”

There.

Merciless. Nanami Kento is absolutely merciless. 

And all you can do is scramble your jittery fingers towards his desk, his forgotten work documents, him - your body is moving before your heated mind when you reach behind to drag Nanami in closer by his yellow, speckled tie. 

All the way until his plump lips were mere millimeters away from yours, “I actually think ‘daddy’ would work better, no?”

Oh. Oh, fuck.

He was completely and utterly fucked. 

It takes the both of you by surprise when a large hand comes up to your neck, thick fingers squeezing hard around your pretty throat. The cold metal of Nanami’s wedding ring burning into your skin when he shuts up those filthy words of yours. 

“Ken-”

“Shut up. Sh-shut up, darling I’m- fuck I’m-” is all Nanami’s able to stutter out before his hips grow sloppy. And you could feel the way his twitching cock massaged at your plushy walls, the wet sounds of skin-and-skin becoming more and more languid before-

Nanami doesn’t think he’s ever cum this embarrassingly fast in his life. Never did it only take him a few more mean, calculated thrusts into your heavenly cunt until he’s spurting thick wisps of his seed. Coating your poor pussy in a sheen of his cum - of him. 

He whimpers, bending his long legs at the knees to grind up deeper into your, feeling the warm slosh of his own seed inside. 

“Fuck Ken–” you wheeze, throat raw from the unforgiving hand still around it. Vision spotty and you feel like floating - or maybe that’s just the way Nanami had you lifting off the ground with each relentless ram. “Gonna be the ngh- fuckin’ death of me.”

“Hah, you’re gonna be the hngh- death of me.” he groans, free hand coming up to slide his glasses further up his nose. Shit, if Nanami angled his head just right he could see that sinful, sinful trail of cum down your legs. Glistening under the dim office lighting, forming a little pool right at that crevice between your thigh. “Yeah oh fuck- m’not getting out of this alive. Not with you, darling.”

And oh you should’ve known. Should’ve had an inkling at the way Nanami was still achingly rock-hard between your legs. At the way he innocently grazes a thumb across your sloppy hole, pooling the heady mix of cum and slick on the pads of his fingers - before shoving them right back in. Skirting around that depraved shaft of his to squeeze whatever dredges of seed he could get his hands on back inside you.

It was making such a mess - with each bullying pump of Nanami’s fingers at your dripping cunt, cum was gushing out of your wrecked hole. Slow, and torturous. 

Exactly the way he was moving back inside of you now, reeling his toned hips back to smash right into your sweet spots. Dragging that orgasm out of you - out of him, “Gotta make sure it takes, right?”

Suddenly, you have the feeling that it’s going to be a long, long night working overtime.

♡ GETO SUGURU - The egoist

“C’mon, gorgeous.” that low, satiny purr has your cunt quivering traitorously. “You’re really gonna hold out on me like this?”

It takes every bit of willpower in you to tear your eyes from the absolutely sinful sight below you - because Geto Suguru was so unfairly pretty - even with his wrists tied helplessly below you to the bedposts. So delicately flushed a cute pink from his high cheekbones, right down to his thick, sobbing tip. Looking up at you through half-lidded, glassy eyes, peeking from under his long hair. 

Hair you thread through to gather in a harsh grip, “Mhm, Sugu, if you’re gonna be so cocky when m’letting you cum inside me then I jus’ hafta- ngh!”

Your foolish little threat is dying in your chest when your beloved boyfriend is wrenching his hips up. Having you teetering precariously, clinging onto his sculpted abs when he uses them to fuck his cock up into you slobbering cunt. 

“Hah!” his dark eyes widen in delight at the sight of how readily your slutty cunt was making way for him. Puffy folds being split apart to swallow every fucking inch he gives. “Just look at what a filthy lil’ cunt you have, my girl. So needy despite all your talk.”

“Th-that’s cheating.” you tug on his soft silky restraints. Eyeing the way they were firmly digging into his milky skin. “Maybe I ah- won’t- let you-”

Another ragged jut of his hips, the thick curve of Geto’s swollen cock spearing into you, pulsing against your sensitive spots until you couldn’t think. He’s gasping, “No!” Letting out such a pained grunt when your spongy walls cling onto him like a second skin. “No no no no- jus’ fuck m’gonna have you begging for my cum.”

And if Geto had his hands untied you just knew he’d be gifting your sobbing cunt a punishing smack! So that’s exactly what you do - letting out such a teasing whine of his name when you slap the pads of your fingers down across your sopping slit. Stopping right below your clit - exactly the way he does.

“Still real cocky, aren’t you?” you purr, so sultry and low, sending a fresh wave of precum painting at your bruised cervix. 

“Fuuuck- you little minx. This won’t- ngh-” he hisses. “You’re gonna fuckin’ regret holdin’ out on me.”

There it was again - that little accusation. The same little mantra that’d been falling from Geto’s glossed-over lips ever since you tied his wrists together and straddled him after a few too many goading comments on how you won’t be able to “handle him” if he came inside.

Scoffing, “Yeah yeah that’s what a sore loser-”

Fuck, it seems he’s well and fully intent to not have you run your pretty mouth. 

Pushing past your feeble little ring of resistance to draw at your honeyed walls. Running his angry tip along each and every sweet spot he’d so meticulously mapped out before.

“I warned you, gorgeous.” His breaths are wrenching out so strained, low groans leaving him with how your plushy walls were trying to suck out something delicious. “Warned you it was- ngh was gonna be too much. And now look at you.” He’s chuckling, so utterly unapologetic. “Fucked dumb and taking my cock like the slut you are. How’d you feel about that, huh?”

It’s so embarrassing. 

Embarrassing how good you were feeling, stars behind your eyes every time Geto is smashing deep into your core. Embarrassing how you can barely even hold yourself up at this point, instead collapsing right into the valley between Geto’s pecs, lips drooling with need. 

Embarrassing how you can’t even answer his question.

And this is what makes him smile - full and content. Craning his head down to kiss softly at your slack lips, “That’s what I thought. Now beg for it, beg for my cum.”

“Wh-what?” you snap your eyes open. Moaning lowly at the drag and pull of his fat shaft, stretching out your narrow channel with each ram of his hips. Angling your boneless body just right for those tufts of black at his toned base to rub against your clit so obscenely. 

“You hear me. Or you can’t hear as well as- ngh- speak now, huh? Beg for it.”

“No.”

Geto falters his hips slowly at this, “Beg for it.”

“No.”

Of course, this only makes him stop completely. Rolling his eyes in such a languid way at your clear disappointment, “Then fuck me yourself if you wanna be so mouthy.”

The result is - for Geto - the hottest fucking thing he’s ever seen. With you whining, tears springing to your eyes as you try to ride him as best you could. Yearning, craving for those bullying thrusts he’d been planting on your sweet spots. Ass jiggling when it smacks against his pelvis lazily, hips stuttering up and down his veiny cock, weeping your needy juices as you sob, “No- please I take t- ngh- back. I want your cum, Sugu. Please?”

“That’s more like it.”

And no sooner are the words out of your lips before Geto’s thrusting up into you haphazardly. Brows furrowed, abs screaming with the strain of just how hard he was pounding you. Again. And again - more to teach you a lesson, more to drive the two of you insane. Again and again and-

It only takes a few more of those lingering, ruthless kisses of Geto’s leaky tip against your g-spot for the two of you to be cumming. 

Your gummy walls convulsing, sucking up every wet glob of cum shot against them, against your womb. Geto’s full, heavy balls filling you up in mere seconds with how much he was painting your poor cunt white. Dripping down the side of your pussy lips, creating such a mess all over his base that he just can’t help but-

RIP!

Your back is hitting the mattress before you know it, Geto’s large figure looming over you- how? When did he-

“Ya really thought those would stop me from-” he takes the time to spread open your trembling legs, spying down at the mess of cum leaking out of your gaping hole now. Thick, gushing dredges of him - all him. He’s shuffling down, hot breath hitting your abused cunt, “-having my favorite meal?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - Made for this.

Slam!

You’re both jolting - you at the deafening sound of your best friend’s hand slamming down on the headboard, making it creak at the sheer power. Him at those sultry little words that had just left your glossy lips, sending all the blood in his body right down to where he was buried between your shaky legs. 

Before you can react, Choso’s looming his face closer - eyes wide, jaw sagging open, voice just a whisper when he asks, “What did you say?”

And through it all, it’s a wonder you’re managing to catch your breath. Because Choso’s unforgiving cadence was barely letting up, pushing in long, solid strides of his hips to drag his fat cock against the plush of your gummy walls. “I-I said since it’s your first time n’ I wanna make this special, you should-” Looking him right in his pussydrunk eyes when you say, “-cum in me, Cho.”

Just like before, that honeyed request pulls out such a visceral reaction from him. His dewy eyes scrunch shut, thick tip kissing so deep inside your womb when he twitches animalistically. Sliding across to mark you from the inside out. 

And somewhere in your fucked-out mind, you register the snap! of wood breaking above you, Choso’s biceps flexing with movement. “Fuuuck, baby, you can’t hah- s-spring that on me like that.”

It was true - a few too many bad sex scenes on movie night, and a few too little lingering touches left you wanting more. Wanting to steal away your cute best friend’s virginity once and for all, and then some.

“Why not?” you bat your lashes so deceivingly innocently up at him. Making his poor jaw drop even further, hips stuttering forwards sloppily. “No no no no, Cho. You’re my best friend and you deserve the best.” you’re tutting, tightening your legs around his sculpted waist. Preventing any escape - as if he could ever want to run away from this heaven. “I need you to cum in me.”

It happens too fast for you to even register - before you know it, two large hands of Choso’s are hoisting your limp legs up onto his toned shoulder. Upper half bending down, down, down until he had you folded in half in such a mean mating press. 

“F-fuck don’t-” he gasps out, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the lewd change in angle. The curving divot of his head brushing up against that hot g-spot of yours, raw with so many hits. Greedy eyes locked on the way your puffy cunt was swallowing him whole. “-don’t say that! Was enough havin’ you offer your pretty lil’ cunt f’me to fuck.”

Smirking, “Cum in me, Cho. Please?”

And fuck Choso was sure he was going to pass out this very second. Collapse on top of you like an utterly fucked ragdoll. But, no - and he doesn’t know what’s more embarrassing - instead, his heavy balls are squeezing sloppily, making such a mess of you inside when he streams out thick spurts of cum.

Eyes ringing, vision spotty when he’s pouring such heavy amounts to paint your cunt white. It’s all he can do to breathe, “Fuck- fuck fuck fuck m’cumming m’sorry m’cumming m’cumming- ah- ngh-”

“F-fuck yeah give it t’me.” you murmur heatedly, drool dripping down the corner of your mouth with each pump inside reaching your lungs. Sending dredges of seed slobbering down Choso’s throbbing length, forming a pool at your inner thighs. “Give it all to me, you’re doing so good for your first time, baby.” 

Your honeyed praises stick to him like a veil of sin, having him shudder out little whines of your name. “No m’not!”

“Hm? What’re you fuuuck right there- what are you talking about? Yes, you are.” you thread your fingers through his long, damp locks. Pushing away the dark strands sticking to his forehead to connect it with yours, “Doing so good f’me.”

Choso’s breaths come out in feverish puffs, and despite having velvety strings of his cum sloshing inside your walls right now, he was still hard. Still painfully hard with each overstimulated shove into your dripping cunt. 

“Dreamt of this for so long.” he drawls, ragged. A soft thumb coming down to draw on your clit, “Been wanting you for so long n’ you have no idea. M’ jus- fuck your pussy is just too perfect, my girl.” That little confession has you clenching around him so tight. Forcing Choso to hike up a knee to stretch your thighs so far apart it burned, letting him accelerate his hips. “Too much that I can’t keep it- hah- together. S’like she’s made f’me. Jus’ wanna fill you up until you can’t take it- ngh-” 

A particularly harsh kiss to your sweet spot has Choso’s seed oozing out of your puckered hole even more. So slutty in the way that you were still clamping down to milk the soul out of him all through it. 

His pretty pink lips fall into a soft oh! at the sight. Movements languid, hypnotized when the erratic, slender fingers on your clit move down. Swirling at the treacled ring of cum around his hilt, where your pussy lips were mashing against his toned pelvis. 

You have half the mind to wonder if Choso even realized what he was doing - whether he was even breathing - as he raises those fingers to your mouth. Immediately parting your kiss-bitten lips to suck his glossy fingers clean.

The eager, lewd squelches from above and below have him pushing your body up to thrust even harder - hissing, “Oh you really ngh- made f’me.”

“Well then…” you start, muffled. And your tone already has Choso gulping. Waiting on your every word. “Why don’t you cum inside me again to make up for it and the broken headboard?”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - HEIR

Now, it’s not often that Ryomen Sukuna feels threatened. Him? The infamous king of curses? Don’t make him laugh, everyone knows that you’re his pretty lil’ slut, his favorite human.

But it’s times like this, with your pretty self sat where you belong - right on his fat, achy cocks, your limp legs dangling off his luxurious throne, crying and begging for him to just move - he’s reminded that maybe not everyone knows. 

“Pleeease, Kuna.” you’re dragging out of your throat, voice wrecked with need. “Jus’ need to- to cum!” And he thinks it’s so adorable how you’re trying to fuck your hips up and down on his lengths, matching tips so thick that they rut against your sweet spots without even trying. 

It’s useless, with the tight, black-nailed grip he has on your stuttering hips. Making such a mess slobbering down his cocks.

“Hmmm, I dunno if you deserve it, brat.” his smug facade is laced with something else - something dangerous now. “After all…” he’s nosing down your racing pulse, breathing in as if he could smell the lust in your blood. “-you looked real cozy with that minister from earlier.”

You’re gasping - whether from his words, or from the way his curved shafts twitch so furiously inside you, you’re not sure. 

“Wh-what?”

He scoffs, “You know what m’talkin’ about.”

And you did - unfortunately. Hazy mind showing off shreds of memories from that meeting you accompanied Sukuna to earlier today. The one where, despite being dangling off his arms the entire time, one unsavory new minister managed to throw a few crass remarks your way. Something about how good you must be and how he’d give you an-

“Heir.” It’s all that Sukuna is spitting out before thrusting up into you. Deep, slow. Like he knew you were thinking about that little altercation today and wanted to fuck out every thought of it out of your pretty lil’ mind. “That little scum had the audacity to talk to my woman about how he’d have an heir by now. As if I’m not fucking you right.”

Two thick fingers come up to smush your cheeks together into a pathetic pout, spitting into your open mouth, “I’d have killed him if you didn’t fuckin’ stop me, human.”

“B-because-” you’re crying out, eyes rolling to the back of your head with each smash of his fat tip against the bullseye of your g-spot, the other marking up your cervix. “I didn’t want to cause a scene in front of-”

“So what if I caused a scene?” Sukuna’s sharp canines are nipping down on your wobbly lower lip. The curve of his dicks stretching you so thin. Taut. Until your clingy walls molded to his shape. “Do you deny me the right to defend my woman? My future heir?”

The sopping wet sounds of your poor hole being ravaged are almost too loud for you to hear his last words. Almost.

You gasp, face lolling up from where they were pressed up against his sculpted pecs. “Wait- future heir?”

And oh how Sukuna loved the sound of that on your lips. A raw groan curling up from his throat, biting his lip while he fucks you so thorough. So purposeful. 

At this point the only thing you’re managing to get out are pitchy whines, being bounced up and down like some sextoy on the king’s cocks. His massive girths tattooing your walls with each and every twin vein and ridge.

“Mhm, ya like that?” Sukuna grins, slacking down the throne to jut his muscled abdomen upwards. “Wan’ me to breed this cute cunt with my heir?”

The only response he’s getting are your nails raking red, angry marks down his tan skin, which clearly wasn’t enough for him.

“I asked you a question, brat.” This earns you a sharp smack! to the fat of your ass, his nasty cadence only speeding up. You’re barely even lucid anymore, just being slid along his towering lengths. “Use your words n’ fuckin’ tell- me-”

“Hngh!” you’re screaming out at a particularly harsh jab against your g-spot. Big fat tears rolling down your cheeks when you mewl, “Yes! Yes I wan’ it so bad, ngh- for you to fill me up. Breed me until- ngh until everyone knows.”

The honeyed grin you’re given is something you know doesn’t bode well, Suknua’s eyes darting somewhere behind you. But that’s the last thing on your mind while he spits a thick glob of saliva on your cunt. Goading, “Well if you’re that desperate, woman.”

And it’s dizzying - if you thought Sukuna was fucking you thoughtless before then you weren’t ready for right now. 

“Fuck.” he grits out. “Yes that bastard got one thing right- I just wanna- oh-” And then he’s spitting, another steady stream of saliva right on your struggling cunt. “Wanna breed this pussy- until they know m’the one that fucks you right.” He’s rubbing a palm along your stomach, drawing a line where he could feel the bulge of his swollen cocks. “Have you round and glowing with my heir.” Moving up, up, up to cradle your bouncing tits into his greedy mouth. “Have these hah- filled with milk. And have you filled with me. They’ll all see you and see me. I did this.” 

Sukuna’s red, glowing eyes are the last thing you see before everything flashes white. And then you’re cumming - barely having the capacity to give a fair warning other than, “Oh- f-fuck Kuna m’gonna.”

It takes you a moment to realize that he is as well. The squelches from your delicious cunt only increasing twofold when he’s gifting you with thick spurts of his seed. Too much. Both fat heads throbbing in staccato with your high, so furiously before they’re erupting in a gush of pure white. Too much. 

“Ahhh yes, s’where you belong.” Sukuna breathes, voice a few octaves higher with how much he was still cumming. Hips thrusting to force such filthy movements to pump his potent seed deeper and deeper - sure enough to mark you from the inside out. “Fucked dumb on m’cocks and hah- ready to make me an heir. One to kill off all the trash I can’t.” Letting it slobber down onto his abs, pooling at the muscles. Hot loads overspilling from your tight pussy now. Shit, it’s a sight so sinful that Sukuna has to tear his eyes away to look at that slightly ajar door, brows quirking at the aghast face outside he meets. “Won’t you agree, minister?”

♡ GOJO SATORU - “Do you hate me?”

“Huh- what?” you’re blinking, unsure if you even heard that correctly. Eyes darting from Gojo’s pouty pink lips to the way he was still bludgeoning his aching cock inside you, “Of course I don’t, Toru? What’s with the- hah-”

Apparently, your answer wasn’t good enough for the great Gojo Satoru, and it’s not long into your bumbling, half-drunk sentence before he’s smashing his fat tip purposefully against that honeyed g-spot he loved so much. Dragging out such cute moans from your throat while he babbles, “Then why are you- hah telling me to pull out?”

It takes everything in you to wrench your eyes open to meet his dead-serious expression, “What?”

Gojo scoffs at how fucking long it was taking your cockdrunk mind to comprehend him. Pushing your knee back further to spread your sopping cunt, squeezing his thick girth inside like some cocksleeve. “Why-” he cuts himself off with a bullying little thrust. “-are you telling- me to fuckin’ pull out.” And he sounds so genuinely devastated, voice a pitch higher than normal, breaking ever-so-slightly at the end. “Do you hate me now, sweetheart?”

“You fuckin’-” you’re spitting. Nails digging into the sides of Gojo’s pale neck when you’re pulling him closer, hissing into his panting mouth, “-idiot. I told you to- ngh- to pull out because I don’t trust that limitless of yours to work.”

“But, my girl—” he whines, burying his face to lick up the crook of your neck. “Don’ wanna leave to ah- get condoms right now. M’the strongest, when has it not worked?”

And it’s like the sole reminder of this fact is enough to spur your boyfriend on even more, because with a ragged growl he’s falling back onto his thighs - taking your boneless body right along with him. Greedy pussy sat so pretty and needy around his cock, sinking deeper and deeper down every long inch.

You could barely even feel it - limitless. Just a slight, steady pulse of jujutsu, atoms standing at attention all around your tangled bodies.  

“Oh!” you keen at the feeling of Gojo’s heft veins making their mark all along your gummy walls. Gravity sliding you down his swollen cock until your puffy folds were meeting his sharp pelvis in a messy kiss. “Y-you’re really not fuuuck- backing down, huh?”

As if to prove your point, a large palm comes up around your back, wrenching your two hands behind to pin them behind your back. Leaving you completely bare and helpless under his obscene will. 

“Nope.” Gojo hums, popping the “p”. Flashing you a fucked-out grin - and oh he looks so pretty, so wrecked with his snowy locks disheveled, cheeks a blushing pink, lips spit-glossed and worried. “How could I be when my girl- hngh feels like this?”

“S’not gonna-”

“It is-” he’s interrupting in a syrupy tone, so drunk off the way you were complaining about his limitless but taking every thrust he gives so well. “S’gonna work- it will work hngh- trust me, sweetheart.” Thumbing apart your bulging swollen folds even further to toy over your pulsing clit, “Shit- love it when you squeeze me like that. Hah- and you expected me to leave this n’ go get condoms fuckin’ right.” With every hungry thrust he’s gifting your poor pussy, Gojo’s mouth is running a mile a minute against your racing pulse. Heavy tongue lolling, eyes rolling to the back of his head with every passing millisecond you’re sucking the ever-loving soul out of him. “As if I’d wanna hah- leave this. It’ll work-”

Somewhere in-between the lingering ruts, a hand of yours runs through Gojo’s damp tresses, tugging on it to make him look. Difficult, somehow. 

“Toru…” you grip harder on his soft strands, dragging him away from his little hiding spot. Relenting, he’s slowly raising his eyes to look at you and- “Why are you-”

Oh. Shit.

If you thought Gojo was ruined before then you weren’t ready for this - his half-lidded eyes glowing, crackling with power, babbling lips sagging open in ecstacy. And if you didn’t know any better you’d have thought that the lights in your bedroom flickered dangerously just a bit. He gasps, eyes boring into yours, “What- what was I sayin’ again?”

Oh he was so fucked - and you were, too. 

Because your mouth is moving before your mind, feeling so dirty when you muse, “Told me how you were gonna- ngh- drop limitless n’ fill me up, Toru–”

Your jaw is prying open with his mean little tempo. Fat, greedy cock messing up your insides with how haphazardly he was spearing inside in weighty, animalistic thrusts. Leaving just enough time for that divot on his angry tip to peck at your sweet spots, before shoving his entire length back in and out again. Over and over and-

It only takes a mere split-second of Gojo’s limitless faltering, of him being enveloped in all your dripping heaven, before he’s cumming. And cumming so hard, gushing out so much in thick, hot streams of his heady seed.

It’s filling you up from the inside, stretching your walls taut. Sloppy. Sinful. And you can do nothing but reach your high as well, flashes of white-hot pleasure behind your eyes. Or maybe that was Gojo.

His creamy white cum kissing you inside, drooling out of your ravaged hole with every mindless push of his hips. Forcing it deeper and deeper and oh fuck, he could do this forever. Fuck condoms. Fuck limitless. He tells you that - rattles it off into your open mouth a little over fifteen times watching the coating of his cum pool a glossy sheen down your legs. Sloshing down in thick, lewd globs.

“Told you so.” you scoff. 

“That- that was just the practice round! Best out of three?”

“...”

A/N. Picked the title out for no purpose other than self-indulgence I’m ngl.

Plagiarism not authorized.