#and a huge lightweight too

[dewphomet]

Feet up for Satan indeed 🐾

Shoutout to that marvelous picture @flowers-for-ghouls send my way, Ive never doodled them so fast ⛧

[lupinescribbler]

[sam-montembeault]

getting sloppy drunk for the first time on accident: woo! i am going to luxuriate in the todays decadent win of the montreal canadiens, mes habs, over the florida panthers and the fact that our baby rookie baby goalie shut out said defending stanley cup champs! and also think salacious things about sam monty montembeault. olé

[harryspet]

rough hands, soft chains [2] r.cameron

[warnings] dark!rancher!rafe x bimbo!cowgirl!reader, arranged marriage, rancher au, manipulation, size difference, DUBCON, loss of virginity, rafe is HUGE, breeding kink, little editing, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

a/n: i only tag people who reblog the fic AND let me know their thoughts, thank you :)

In which you meet your new family, the Camerons, and learn Rafe's true intentions.

word count: 5.1k

rough hands, soft chains masterlist

The spare outfit you’d packed for your failed escape attempt was a delicate two-piece set in white. The long-sleeve, cropped sweater that featured a soft ruffle trim that barely grazed your midriff, paired with a high-waisted, flowing skirt that swayed with every step. The lightweight fabric was a reflection of your usual preference for comfortable clothes. A handful of other items hung in the closet, clearly not yours, but you couldn’t bring yourself to accept whatever offering the Camerons had left for you.

After giving your reflection a look, you turned your attention your room. You floated over to the vanity, a rustic wooden display decorated with gold trinkets. You’d only packed the essentials, meaning you’d limited yourself to mascara, concealer, blush and lipgloss. You slid onto the matching stool decking to touch up your makeup, wiping away the smudged mascara and applying a fresh coat of lip gloss. Lip gloss always had a way of brightening your mood, even now. You certainly knew how to get dolled up, like Rafe said, and lucky for him, you liked makeup and clothes that made you feel breezy and feminine. 

When the room grew quiet, Rafe’s words rattled around in your head. You’d always done what your father had said, let him lead you in all aspects of your life, because you trusted him. You couldn’t wrap your mind around how your father expected you to trust someone else. In the end, he was the reason you were here now.  He’d handed you over to someone else, like, what? A trade deal? The whole thing was completely unreal.

Something caught your attention outside the large windows. Rolling pastures stretched out before you, dotted with fences and patches of wildflowers swaying gently. Your gaze drifted toward the yard below. Rain trickled down slowly but you realized the figures moving in the distance, behind a tall white fence, were Juliet and John B. Making his way to the fence’s edge, now adorned in a work jacket and dark hat to protect from the rain, was Rafe. 

They were soon deep in conversation. Your eyes lingered on Rafe’s figure a little too long before shifting to Juliet, whose movements were graceful and unbothered. She had been alone for so long, your father had been forced to sell the other three horses your family owned years ago, and her care had undoubtedly suffered as your father’s health declined. Surely, the Camerons had at least a hundred horses and the resources to ensure Juliet was well cared for and had proper company. For a moment, you wondered if she might be happier here, happier than even you.

You were grateful for the distraction when a knock came at your door an hour later. You expected it to be Rafe, but a fleeting thought made you pause, would Rafe even bother knocking?

When you opened the door, you were surprised to find a dark-haired girl standing there, no older than fifteen. She was smiling, her eyes full of curiosity.

"Hey," she said, giving you a once-over with a playful look. "I’m Wheezie, Rafe’s little sister.”

So this was the other Cameron sibling? You smiled instinctively and offered your hand. "Oh, hi! I’m Y/N."

You blinked, studying her more carefully. She looked nothing like Rafe, and in that moment, she seemed almost... approachable. Less intimidating. Her warmth, however, felt almost out of place given the situation.

"I like your outfit," she said, her gaze scanning your clothes and makeup. "And your makeup. Ugh, I wish I could do mine like that. Sarah never has time to show me how."

“Sarah?” you asked, a little confused.

"My older sister," Wheezie explained, raising an eyebrow as if surprised. "Rafe’s never mentioned her?"

You shook your head, realizing she might think you'd known Rafe longer than just today. “Uh, no. He hasn’t.”

"Well, there’s three of us," Wheezie continued, her voice casual. "And Rose, our step-mom."

“Oh, okay,” You nodded, taking in all of the information. You weren’t at all used to meeting new people, “It’s nice to meet you. Can I ask you if Mr. Ward is home yet? I kinda need to speak with him.” 

Wheezie’s expression shifted slightly, a hint of disappointment flickering in her eyes. “Him and Rose have been gone all day. Cattle auction, I think. They probably won’t be back until dinner.”

You tried not to let the disappointment show on your face. It wasn’t urgent, but you had hoped to speak with Ward sooner rather than later. Part of you wanted to officially see the contract he’d wrote up with your father. Could two men really decide together that you should be married off? Was that still legal? Wheezie, sensing your hesitation, brightened up and added, “I could show you around the house in the meantime.”

You thought about it for a second, then smiled. “Sure, that would be nice.”

Joining Wheezie out in the hallway, your tour began. Wheezie led you to Rafe’s room first, just beside yours. “He likes to keep it locked,” she said with a grin, “Or else I’d totally snoop around with you.”

You liked her instantly. Moving down the hall, you passed Ward’s study, a room that felt both timeless and functional. It had a desk covered in papers and shelves filled with books. Next was the master bedroom, a room with dark wood furniture and soft linens. 

Finally, Wheezie opened the door to the library. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves filled the room, and large armchairs were scattered around a grand fireplace. It felt like the perfect spot for quiet moments. 

You couldn’t help but feel small in this place. It held the warmth of a family home but it was massive, the ceilings too high, and had decor that screamed “we’re wealthy”. 

Downstairs, the living room was the first stop, a grand space with towering ceilings. Soft leather sofas and enormous windows that offered a breathtaking view of the stretching land and mountains in the distance.

Moving through the open archway into the kitchen, you took note of counters made of polished stone, dark wood cabinets, and the appliances all state-of-the-art. The kitchen was bustling with a couple of workers, one chopping vegetables at the counter, the other pulling something out of the oven. You noticed a door that led out to a terrace.

“These are all Rose’s renovations. She’s really into interior design, and all that stuff.” 

“And the people. They work here all the time?” you asked, intrigued.

“My Dad can grill, but Rose doesn’t cook at all. So they get help,” Wheezie explained with a shrug. “I think she likes having everything perfect, you know?”

“She does have really nice taste,” You spoke genuinely, fumbling with your fingers as you looked around.

Past the kitchen was the dining room, where a long, weathered table was set for what could easily be a dozen guests. The chandelier above was massive, its crystals catching the light and casting a glow over the room.

Wheezie led you into the garage next. The space was expansive, with polished concrete floors and a collection of vehicles parked neatly in their spots, sleek trucks, a few SUVs, and a couple of classic cars you assumed were more for show. Near the back of the garage, you spotted a few horseshoe-shaped saddles hanging on the wall, alongside an array of hunting gear. There were rifles and ammunition neatly organized on the shelves, a few pairs of boots stacked by the door, and weathered hunting jackets hanging from the walls. It was practical, but still had the polished look of the rest of the house, like nothing here was ever out of place.

“Do you ride?” Wheezie asked as you took in the details of the room.

“Yeah, I have a horse named Juliet,” you grinned. “Do you?”

“I can,” Wheezie replied with a shrug. “I’m not great at it. Sarah’s better, and Rafe—well, he’s good at things like that.”

“Does Sarah live here too?” you asked, curious.

“Yeah, but she’s been MIA for two days.” Wheezie’s voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. “You can’t tell anyone this,” she continued, glancing around before leaning in closer. “She and John B. are a thing. And she hangs out with his friends.”

“It’s a secret?” you asked, intrigued but still unsure of the family dynamics at play.

Wheezie nodded, her eyes flicking to the door as if checking for eavesdroppers. “My dad wants her to be with someone whose family is... more prestigious, if that makes sense?”

You processed that for a moment, nodding slowly. “But my family’s not... prestigious. But Ward wants me to marry your brother.”

A mischievous glint sparked in Wheezie’s eyes. She crossed her arms and leaned against the wall, clearly enjoying the tension in the air. “Is it true that Rafe got you pregnant and that’s why you have to live with us?”

You froze for a split second, then blurted out, “I am not!” You suddenly realized how loud you’d been and lowered your voice, grabbing Wheezie’s hand as you whispered urgently, “I am not.”

“Other people don’t think I’m pregnant, do they?” You continued, “Because I don’t think I’ve done anything that could lead to that…”

You questioned yourself for a moment, feeling a pang of uncertainty. You’d learned about the birds and the bees just once, when you were eleven, and it had been before your mother died. After that, your education had been limited, and anything beyond what she'd explained was a blur of confusion.

What you were certain of, though, was that the kiss with Rafe couldn’t have led to that. You had never heard of anything like that happening from a simple kiss. To your knowledge, you needed at least to sleep in the same bed for that to happen, and you and Rafe hadn’t crossed that line. Before your mind could wander to that possibility, Wheezie spoke. 

“I’m not trying to be rude, just curious,” She said with a smirk, her tone light and teasing. “No one around here tells me anything.”

A few hours later you entered the dining room again with Wheezie. You’d spend a good amount of time in her room and she’d explained more about her family, including more details about Rafe. You learned that she was Rafe’s soft spot. That he was cold to almost everyone except her. Ward had a lot of expectations for him and Rafe did about everything he could to appease his father. 

“I think Rafe just wants to do things his own way,” Wheezie had mused. “But, you know, my Dad has other ideas. He’s been trying to get Rafe to be more... ‘like him.’”

Kindly, you’d accepted her request for you to help her with her makeup. You’d done hers like yours, with bright blush and shiny lipgloss. She was so excited that she practically skipped down the stairs after, her happiness infectious as she bounced in front of you. A part of you couldn’t help but smile. Was this what it was like to have a sister? The feeling was new and strange, but warm, like something you hadn’t realized you’d been missing.

Rafe looked you over, as if he was offended by your choice in clothing, “What did I do?” You asked, innocently. 

Maybe he didn’t think your outfit was cute. 

“Come sit next to me,” he said, his voice smooth but laced with something possessive, as if he were commanding you rather than asking. He waved you over. 

You hesitated, looking at Ward, who gave you a reassuring, welcoming smile, and then at Rose and Sarah. Sarah’s gaze was sharp, watching you with a kind of calculating curiosity, while Rose barely seemed to notice, her eyes distant and uninterested.

You exhaled slowly, making your way over to the seat next to Rafe. Your knees brushed against each other but he didn’t move his. 

“Everyone, this is Y/N. I’ve known her family for years, and after that everything’s happened, she’s going to stay with us. She’s been through a lot.”

“Mm-hmm,” Rose murmured, almost absentmindedly. “It’s lovely to have you here with us.” Her tone wasn’t cold, but it certainly wasn’t warm, either.

Ward’s words seemed genuine, but you didn’t understand fully why he spoke so kindly. The two of you were practically strangers. Wheezie smiled brightly in reaction. Sarah, on the other hand, was looking you over even more closely than Rafe. You could see the thoughts swirling in your mind. 

“I have a question-” She blurted out.

Ward interrupted, “I’d watch yourself, young lady.” 

“I just want to make sure everything’s clear,” Sarah said softly, her voice quieter now. “I’m just... trying to understand why, that’s all. A marriage seems a little bit rushed, don’t you think? They didn’t even know each other before today.” 

“They didn’t?” Wheezie raised an eyebrow. 

The pressure in the room increased, “Sarah,” Ward began to warn her but it was Rafe who spoke up next. 

Rafe’s voice cut through the growing tension, his tone firm, almost possessive. “It’s not rushed, Sarah,” he said, turning to look at her. “It’s just what it is. No need to complicate it.”

You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks, the sharpness of Rafe’s gaze making you shift uncomfortably in your seat. He answering for you, as if you didn’t have a say in how things were perceived.

Sarah didn’t flinch. Her eyes held a quiet defiance. As if to change the subject, Rafe continued, “What is that on your face, Wheeze?” 

“It’s called makeup,” She shot back, annoyed, “Y/N did it.”

Rafe turned his head towards you, “It’s a little much for someone her age, don’t you think?”

“I think she looks really pretty. I started wearing makeup way younger than her,” You responded quietly but honestly, “That’s how you, like, get good at it.” 

“See,” Wheezie stuck her tongue out at her older brother. 

Suddenly, you felt Rafe’s hand touch your knee underneath the table. The warmth of Rafe’s hand on your knee sent a jolt through you, and for a moment, you couldn’t quite focus on anything else. His touch was unexpected, as though he’d done it without thinking, and yet, there was something deliberate about the way he kept his hand resting there.

Dinner was officially served moments later. Rafe’s hand remained there on your knee as you all began to eat the carefully prepared steak, potatoes and asparagus. Your steak was already cut into a pieces, a luxury that you didn’t even know others experienced. 

Sarah pushed around her asparagus, “How do you feel about moving in with us so suddenly, Y/N? I mean, do you really know what you’re getting yourself into?”

You paused, unsure of what to say, your gaze instinctively shifting toward Rafe. His hand was still on your knee, but the grip felt firmer now, like he was holding you in place, keeping you from saying something that might upset the balance of things.

You bit your lip, trying to gather your thoughts, but when you opened your mouth, it all just came tumbling out. “It’s kinda overwhelming,” you started, your voice soft but a little unsure. “I miss… I miss my Dad. And you guys have all this land, and this house is so huge, it’s hard to wrap my head around it all.” You glanced at Sarah, then back to your plate. “And, like, I didn’t think I’d get married this young, but… if it’s really what my Dad wanted…”

You trailed off, feeling a little embarrassed. Sarah’s gaze softened slightly, “It’s a big step. Are you sure you’re ready?”

Up until that point, you hadn’t realized you had a choice in all of this. You could see she wasn’t questioning you out of judgement. She almost looked concerned. 

“Enough, Sarah,” Ward spoke sharply, “This is bigger than what one person thinks is right. I don’t expect you to understand but it’s about responsibility. Rafe is growing up and he’s decided to take on new responsibilities. I don’t see why you can’t be supportive.” 

“I just think she deserves more time to decide,” Sarah said. 

“There isn’t a rush. I’m not rushing them, that’s for certain. Rafe and Y/N will take the time to get to know each other.”

The room fell quiet for a moment. You could feel the weight of everyone’s eyes on you. You glanced at him and noticed the subtle shake of his head, as if dismissing the entire idea. “What’s the point in waiting? You can plan a wedding in a few weeks, right?” 

“Rafe, son, don’t you think two should spend some time together?”

“No, Dad, we’ll get married as soon as possible. If Y/N wants to have a real ceremony, Rose can plan it, but I’d be down to just go to the courthouse.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. 

“Rafe,” Sarah leaned forward in her seat, “Are you actually crazy?”

How did we get here? You had no answers, just a rush of emotions you couldn’t quite put into words. Maybe you should’ve said something, but the lump in your throat made it hard to think. 

“We’ll figure it out” Rafe said, cutting her off. He turned his attention to you, his gaze intense but unreadable. “Right, darling?”

The way he looked at you made your stomach twist. It was as though he was asking you to confirm something you didn’t fully understand yourself. You opened your mouth to respond, but Wheezie chimed in before you could.

“Dude, that’s like, so not romantic!” she exclaimed, scrunching her nose. “You haven’t even proposed yet!”

Sarah seized the moment, leaning back in her chair with a smirk. “Exactly. At least ask her properly, Rafe. Or are you afraid she’ll say no?”

The air at the table grew heavier. You glanced at Ward, who looked ready to intervene, but Rafe beat him to it. His lips curled into a tight smile, though his eyes flashed with something darker. “You think I’m afraid of that, Sarah?” he asked, his tone deceptively calm.

All you could think about was the way Rafe’s hand hadn’t left your knee, his grip steady, as if anchoring you to him despite the chaos swirling around the table.

“Can we drop it, please?” Rafe asked, his tone deep and final. 

“I want Y/N to stay,” Wheezie decided. 

“We all want Y/N to stay,” Ward clarified.

“Well, good,” Rose chimed in, her smile polished and hollow. “Then it’s settled.”

At the end of dinner, Ward leaned back in his chair, addressing you, “You’ll find we take care of our own here, sweetheart. Anything you need, you only have to ask.”

“Thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper. You weren’t sure what else to say.

“We should get going,” Rafe announced abruptly, pushing his chair back and rising to his feet. His hand left your knee, only to find the small of your back as he helped you up. 

Wheezie pouted. “But we haven’t even had dessert!”

“Next time, Wheeze,” Rafe replied, his tone firm. “Come on, Y/N.”

You followed him out of the dining room, feeling the eyes of his entire family on your back. 

“Where are we going?” You asked, trying to keep up with Rafe’s long strides. He’d given you his jacket and asked you to put on your boots, before guiding you out the front door. You clutched the jacket tightly, the night beginning to turn cool. The sky was still heavy with the remnants of rain but an orange and pink sun began to lower in the sky, peaking behind soft, gray clouds, “Rafe?” 

High grass tickled the bare legs hidden beneath your skirt as you walked into the fields, “Just for a walk. That okay with you?”

“You know, sometimes I think you really don’t care what’s okay with me.” Rafe flashed you an amused look, “Oh yeah? Maybe I like making decisions for you.” 

You snorted in disbelief but your heart fluttered nonetheless. 

"What's the real reason you brought me out here?" You asked, pushing the conversation forward despite the tension. 

Rafe stopped and turned to face you, his expression unreadable for a moment. He studied you, like he was considering his words carefully. "Maybe I just wanted to see you without all the noise around us. No distractions. Just you and me."

The ranch stretched out before you, vast and quiet. The ground beneath your feet was soft as you walked, fast enough to follow Rafe’s steps. A faint hum of crickets began to rise in the distance. 

A modest building tucked near the tree line, far from the main house came into view, “That’s the ranch hand’s quarters,” Rafe explained, “You won’t need to be over there, it’s no place for a woman.” 

The sun continued to hang lower as you walked, casting a golden hue over the land. Rafe led you further into the sprawling escape, pointing out different landmarks, “This land’s been my family’s for generations. But my Dad was the one who made it what it was today. It’s very important to me. This land and all the hard work that’s put into it.” 

“My dad’s tough on me but it’s his legacy, you know? It’s more than just making money or raising cattle. I don’t know, I just want to protect what I have. Make sure my kids and my grandkids have it, ya' know?”

He didn’t look for your understanding, his words genuine, but the look on his face was guarded. He paused, his jaw tightening slightly, “You don’t to get to be part of something big and not feel like you’ve got to give everything you have to it.”

“What if…” Your voice trailed as you tried to collect your thoughts, “How do I know it’s something I want to be apart of?” 

“As my wife, you’d stand beside me. You’d build with me. Raise our children. Make a home. You’d make everything that I’m working towards, worth it. That’s a life with purpose, yeah?” 

As he spoke, his voice deep and steady, you found yourself drawn to the way his features seemed to soften, despite the intensity of his words. Those blue eyes were focused on you with an intensity that made your throat go dry. 

He stood taller now, the weight of his words pressed in on you and you could see the full picture he was painting. It wasn’t just the land. It was you. It was him. It was a family. 

“Yeah,” You agreed, the word leaving your lips before you could stop it. Your gaze drifted, almost involuntarily, to his lips. They were slightly parted, the edge of his mouth curling just a bit as he spoke, and for a moment, you forgot where you were.

“Yeah,” Rafe agreed, a knowing look on his face, and his hand found the small of your back, “I owe you something, don’t I?”

“Owe me?” Your voice faltered. What was he talking about? 

Rafe didn’t answer right away. Instead, he simply pulled you forward, his hand firm against your back as he guided you through the tall grass. You didn’t have time to question him before the two of you reached a secluded barn, tall and clay-colored, tucked far away from the main house. The air smelled faintly of hay and wood, the earthy scent of the ranch settling around you. But you barely had time to take in your surroundings before Rafe was pulling you into him. His hand slid to the back of your neck, drawing you closer, until his lips were on yours. 

The kiss Rafe Cameron had promised you. 

All those thoughts you had about the land, the future, everything he’d said, it all slipped away. 

Someone, something, had overtaken you. Something ached inside of you, a part of your very being that had never been satisfied. You felt like an animal, desperate, grabbing at Rafe’s shirt, wanting him closer. He was already pressed tightly against you but deep down you wanted more. 

His lips weren’t as gentle as you remembered, they enveloped your mouth, his tongue tasting you, his arms keeping you where he wanted as he explored you.Without warning, he tugged you into an empty stall, the scent of hay and leather thick in the air. His hands were at the edges of your jacket now, pulling it open, his fingers brushing against your skin as the cool air of the barn nipped at your exposed flesh. 

A startled yelp escaped your lips as you felt his hands bunching up your skirt, the fabric sliding higher until it was gathered above your hips. Your eyes flew open, but Rafe was relentless, his mouth still claiming yours with fervent, unyielding kisses. You didn’t know exactly how babies were made but you had a feeling you were getting closer than you’d ever had before. Before you could process it, Rafe lifted you effortlessly, his hands sliding to cup your bottom as he held you tightly against him. Part of you began to panic. 

Then, with deliberate care, he laid you down. not on the rough ground but on his jacket, which was spread beneath you. Darkened eyes met your panicked ones. This was much more than a kiss. Although you’d enjoyed that part of the exchange, you weren’t sure you wanted more, “Rafe,” You whispered, your voice uncertain, as he moved his mouth from your lips to the sides of your mouth. Your mind raced, trying to keep up with the whirlwind of sensations. You pushed at his chest and felt you were pushing against a boulder. There would know way to get from underneath him, even if you tried, “Are… you gonna put a baby in me?”

He paused, lifting his head to look you in the eye and you had to remind yourself to breathe in that moment, “Jesus Christ. You’re something else, you know that?” Rafe grinned and some of your uncertainty went away. His reaction made the moment feel more lighthearted, like there wasn’t a boundary being crossed, like his intentions were innocent.

“I like the kissing,” You admitted, “It feels good b-but I’m scared–”

Rafe shushed you, peppering gentle kisses along your jawline, until he reached the side of your neck. Your thighs clenched tightly, your head tilted back, and you couldn’t control your moaning. Rafe spread your legs with his own, his jeans brushing against the smoothness of your thighs. He pressed his lower half into you and you felt something as hard as a rock, rubbing against your panties. It was then, your core started to feel like it was on fire. 

“Don’t be scared, it’ll just hurt for a moment,” Rafe spoke against your skin, huskily, his voice almost sounding like he was in pain, “You’re just gonna lay still for me, I need you to help me to take care of something.”

“Hurt?” You questioned, your mind hanging on that word. Then you thought back to your question. He hadn’t really answered. 

He seemed to ignore you again, his mouth moving lower on your body. He pulled your shirt down, and as your breasts spilled from their constraints, he left kisses on your nipples. Your head tilted back again when he took one of your nipples fully into his mouth, “Rafe,” You whispered but the sound of his name only seem to push him further. His fingers traced the edge of your panties before he slipped his fingers inside, brushing over your folds. You were wet down there, you realized, and mostly out of embarrassment, you started to pull away, “Please don’t touch me there.” 

You watched his pupils dilate as he stared down at you intently. He kept one hand in your underwear and wrapped his other around your throat, quickly, as if his body was reacting instinctively to your defiance. 

“Don’t tell me that,” Rafe said, almost growling, and your hands wrapped around his wrist, trying to push away his hand as you struggled to breathe, “I have to touch ya' here, darlin’. I’m gonna be your husband. This belongs to me, understand?” 

Your eyes widened as he rubbed circles over your sensitive skin. Your hips bucked in reaction and you silenced your moans, knowing you only had so much air to breathe, “Say you understand. Say yes.” 

You nodded your head quickly, “Yes,” You whispered. 

You were grateful when he loosed his grip around your throat, “It’s a good thing you’re wet. Nothing to be ashamed of. Just means this is what your body wants, baby. You already want to make me happy.” 

You weren’t quite sure at what moment your body decided to freeze. Your nerves were overwhelmed, of course, and it seemed like you’d come out less scathed from the situation if you did as Rafe said. You could stay still and take it. There was something happening with Rafe you didn’t understand but he was acting as though he needed something and you were only one who could provide it. You could stay still and take it if it would make him happy, right? It’s a good thing to make other people happy. 

You focused on the kisses on your lips, the way his soft mouth moved methodically over yours. The faint jangle of metal pulled you back to the moment, a sound you barely registered until you felt the press of something impossibly hard, slowly pushing against a place you hadn’t realized could take him. His manhood, you assumed, what made him different from you. It hurt like he said it would but not for just a moment. Were all manhoods this size? This is what your body really wants? 

“Relax,” he murmured, his voice low and soothing despite the edge of strain. His hand brushed over your trembling thigh, steadying you as your body tried to accommodate him. “You’re okay. I promise.”

He started to rock into you once you felt completely full to the brim. Initially, it felt even worse than him pushing all the way inside you. Tears fell and your breath grew rapid, “It hurts,” You whimpered, “It really hurts.”

“It’s okay,” He said, maintaining his pace, “You’re okay, darlin’. You’re doing great. It’s just your first time. Gotta get used to me, that's all.” 

“Are-are you putting a baby in me, Rafe?” You asked, your voice an innocent whisper. His grip on you tightened as his rhythm grew more deliberate, his words spilling out in a low growl.

“Fuck yes, darlin’,” he said, his voice thick with unrestrained desire. “I’m gonna put a baby in you.”

His hands, his words, the pain between your legs that was slowly turning to pleasure, it made you dizzy, and you couldn’t keep track of your thoughts. You belonged to him? A baby? It didn’t make sense, but part of you felt comforted by the intensity of him. You trusted he knew more. Everything’s okay. You were okay. It felt like something you were supposed to be, so you let go and let him have you.

a/n: i only tag people who reblog the fic AND let me know their thoughts, thank you :)

[cathnospam]

Canon!Katsuki Bakugo does NOT get drunk.

“You’re drunk.”

“‘M not!”

A trip to a bar to catch up with Sero, Denki, Kiri and Deku left you both in an uber and Bakugo’s face red, rowdy, and —-

“I’M NOT FUCKING DRUNK I HAD 3 SHOTS AND I AM NOT A LIGHTWEIGHT!”

You nod reluctantly, he’s as stubborn as a mule and even in his intoxicated state he will not back down from arguing.

Oddly though he never stumbles, his words aren’t slurred, and he is coherent enough to point out his apartment.

“Put me down?!”

And strong enough to carry you around the car.

You lightly tap his broad shoulders that you were now thrown over, you hiss as the painful sting of his warmed up hand swats the lower part of your ass. “Keep squirming. I like it.”

That voice was all too familiar. That raspy voice, deeper than usual.

It was so familiar that you knew he would throw you onto his soft huge bed, licking and nipping your breast all while creeping his hands up your dress his 2 finger tips lightly clawing at your clothed clit, until he draws tight fast circles on it.

“Kat—-wait. I can’t…we can’t have sex if you’re drunk.”

His eye twitches as he scoffs by your neck, “If you aren’t in the mood then just say that, but don’t fucking lie to me.”

“I’m not lying??!! You aren’t sober!”

“I’m consenting to letting me fuck you.” His breath brushes against your lips, he steals a kiss before sitting back on his knees to watch your next move.

You squint you eyes, lips pressed together to prevent biting them after he said that in a way that made you nearly clench, “You know we both don’t have sex if the other won’t remember—“

“Believe me your pussy isn’t forgettable—“

“Can you PLEASE—“ You sigh, “ I just…don’t want to do it if—“

Bakugo kisses you again, but slower, sliding his hot tongue in your mouth before holding the back of your head. He stared into your eyes with a relaxed face, but furrowed brows as if he was focused on something.

You’re actually too good to him. Any other woman wouldn’t have cared and just let him, but you. You didn’t want to.

It’s one of the many reasons why he married you and trusts you with his life the same way you do with yours.

“Fine.” He grumbles, getting off the bed and stripping down to his underwear, “If you think I’m anything less than sober then we’ll sleep.”

You nod, despite him mumbling and grumbling he was far from angry, he held you close, trying a few more times before dosing off the HARD problem he had in his boxers against your ass, but he wasn’t upset.

…

“Mmm…” You moan yourself awake, feeling a tight knot in your lower belly, a familiar sensation all too well but it was just too much. Your breaths were ragged and since you just woke up you were 2 times more sensitive than you usually were and he knew that.

“Told you…” All you can see is his unkept dirty blonde hair shaking side to side in between your thighs, and panties bunched in his closed fist, “I wasn’t fucking drunk I wanted you.”

You couldn’t even argue back his wet lips wrapped around your clit for a harsh suckle, crying out your hands immediately thrown over his hair, “Ka—-“

You changed his name repeatedly as if that were the only word in your vocabulary, the feel of his mouth not missing an inch of your pussy, he began to tongue fuck you while rubbing your clit. He wanted to feel you cum this time while you were awake.

Bakugo groaned inside you, feeling your slit grind slowly against his mouth while you ride out your orgasm, he reached his free hand with yours to hold it and watch you cum undone.

“You’re so pretty.”

“You…”

“I told you.” He mumbles against your lips, making you taste yourself, his kisses distract you as he pulls his own dick out from his sweats and slowly squeeze himself inside you, making you break the kiss with a broken moan.

“I don’t get drunk, and everything I said last night I said it completely sober.”

[sexbot300]

telling them they have a small dick!

pairing: toji x reader, gojo x reader (separate)

⤷ 18+, MDNI

tw: man-handling, p in v, unprotected sex, power play, cunnilingus, falsetto, huge dick (come on now), mentions of creampie, orgasms, degrading/dirty talk, slight size kink if you squint, text format for gojoe.

a/n: this was so funny to write i cant stop laughing. this was longer than i expected, i will be making a part two with choso, geto, and nanami if asked for. originally it was meant to include them but this is a bit tew long. I actually like this more than anything i’ve ever written before :’) comments r more than welcome thank uuuuu. luv u all xoxo (felt things while writing this, it’s funny that I think it’s my best work)

═════════════════════

Toji ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ Reading your diary

Toji Fushiguro pissed you off. There were no ifs and buts or any way around it. As much as you adored being friends with Megumi and spending time near the stoic guy, coming by his house felt entirely dreadful. Mutual friends frequently visited his abode, leaving and visiting often without a sliver of complaint leaving their diction. ‘Maybe I was truly the problem.’ A thought had snuck up in the crevices of your brain until the mental image of why you didn’t come over as often decided to grace you with his presence. A shiver traveled up north of your spine, straightening yourself out mentally and physically. ‘Nah. That doesn’t sound right. I am NOT the problem.’ 

Toji was everything Megumi was not; cocky, arrogant, and trying to start anything with anyone if they remotely looked in his direction the wrong way. Was he hot? Of course. Would you ever admit it to the bastard? Of course, you wouldn’t. This is why what unfolds before you felt as if some cruel divine punishment, curated by the highest demon in the belly that cradled hell, deciding today would be the day to toy with you.

Closing your phone with a little, ‘Ding!’ Megumi had sent a text earlier entailing that something of your belonging had been left behind. Strangely enough, even he didn’t know what it was, which left a question of perplexity. All he knew was that his dad found it and to alert you about it. 

A sigh that had built up in the depths of your chest left, as you stood behind the mahogany-colored door. Praying that Megumi would just give the item so a beeline can be made as far as legs can sprint. Bringing a hand to the door, tapping with a fist, “Megumi? It’s me.”

With a shuffling heard from inside the house, the sound of the door unlocked and a slow swing revealed no one behind it. Stepping inside carefully and scooping out the area, an eyebrow raised as the familiar setting had no one in eyesight. Closing and locking the door behind, your voice even more confused, “Megumi? Hello? I thought you’d be here.” 

In plain eye view, coming around a corner stood the looming presence of a man that was hard to ignore. Leaning up against the counter behind, a protein shake in hand as his body seems depleted from a workout session. Glistening in sweat, he stood there devastatingly handsome. A simple white tank top clung onto his pectorals, highlighting the ridges of his stone-hard abs while the pump of his presumed workout caused his already massive biceps to look the size of planets. His gray sweats hung low off his slim core. He eyed you up and down as if inspecting every single thing about you.

“Oh yeah. My son's little friend was expecting you here.” He spoke in a casual tone, eyes met yours for a split second before eyeing you down in a carnal way.

Standing in place, mentally making note of killing Megumi for not being the one to give you what was missing from his home. Only leaving you to deal with his father.

He gripped something behind him his fingers grazing what seemed to be a bit lightweight. A light thud of a journal hit the island counter that stood between the pair. Eyes glancing down on what was thrown carelessly, the journal looked all too familiar.

My diary– fuck. All forms of color had drained from the hue of your face, replaced with a crimson flush. Frantically blinking up at the journal, your thoughts blared. ‘There’s no way he could’ve read it right?’ Almost sprinting at the piece of media, fingertips yanked it off the island forcibly gluing it to your chest almost to shield it from eyes it doesn’t belong to. 

Eyes darting back and forth frantically searching for relief in such a predicament, in a measly voice, “T-Thank you Mr. Fushiguro, it was very kind of you to give it back. I-I’ll be leaving now.”

He had only watched amused, but it wasn’t stated within his facial expression. If anything his demeanor was calm– his body leaned back at the counter behind him, legs crossed over one another while he wore what seemed to be a completely uninterested face.

“Smart girl. Probably read a lot, huh?” 

Clutching the diary tighter to your chest, almost impossibly close, furrowed eyebrows and a snap of a neck towards his direction. A low, barely audible, “H-huh?” 

“My favorite passage is where the narrator states that, ‘Toji is probably compensating his small dick for huge muscles.’” He chuckled deeply, taking a swing of his protein shake before setting it to the side.

Frozen in place, eyes widened, simply just going quiet. I mean– what could be said? For a moment so intense, all that ran through your mind was complete blankness.

“Kinda find it endearing how the narrator only uses vibrators on her clit because the idea of penetration ‘arouses’ yet ‘scares’ her.”

“Mr. Fushiguro did you r-rea-“ stated in an incredibly shaky voice. Embarrassed, wishing that the ground would do you good bidding and swallow you whole with no hesitation. He still looked calm, ridiculing every aspect of you, his eyes had darkened a bit due to pupil dilation.

Everything felt tense, hot, incredibly warm, a moment of heat transpiring between the two of you as eyes met one another. Except both eyes said a different story. His; was full of something that could only be described that an animal gets knowing that they had successfully captured their prey right where they were needed. Yours; full of complete self-pity, begging to be freed under the gaze of something that will eat you alive and leave no bones.

“Do you think that Toji's character might appreciate the narrator calling him ‘hot but probably hotter with his mouth shut?’” His large arms bulged, and crossed over his chest, enjoying every minute that left you squirming under his condescending gaze. You looked like something had caught your throat and any form of attitude seemed to exist on the lines written in the diary. 

Tilting his head, on cue his hair moved as well, his expression seeming bleak. “Aw, wish I could meet this narrator, express to her how far off she is from the truth. Seems the type to talk a lot but get quiet when confronted.”

With a croak of your throat you managed to speak in a weak voice, “Mr. Fushiguro I am so sor-”

A silky voice met your ears, “Megumi taught me a bit about books. You know what’s funny about narrators sometimes?”

“W-what?” Your voice croaked.

“They’re unreliable.”

“Want to know something else funny?”

Body shifting off the ledge of the counter his bulky body slowly walked, emerald eyes glancing down while you stared up with the most innocent expression. ‘Cute,’ he thought. Staring down, a waft of his natural musky scent hit your nasal passages. He towered right in front of you. His long finger gripped a loose strand of your hair, twirling it mockingly.

He juxtaposed the flustered expression drawn on your face, a grin that stretched from ear to ear, a sly expression painting a look of hunger. “Yeah,” his tongue swiped at his bottom lip, voice dropping a few octaves, “it’s tiny even.”

-

On the checklist of things you hated about Toji, you mentally jotted down that he was a liar. He was a complete liar. 

Knees blown out, nose buried deep into his neatly trimmed pubic hair, lips trying to adhere to a girth that wasn’t friendly to take down, saliva coating your chin and seeping through the cracks of the side of your lips, and mascara smeared down the sides of your cheek. 

Toji was anything but tiny. A huge hand gripped the back of your skull, yanking at the follicles of your hair bouncing your head back and forth on his dick. He had to be 8 inches at least.

Gagging and whimpers filled the air, as you pathetically took down all the length he forced down. Your eyes beaming with tears, while he looked down at yours mockingly. Eyebrows slightly furrowed at the feeling of your tight throat clinging onto his cock like a vice. He smirked staring you down as you struggle to take him in, light pants escaped from his throat as spit slowly exited his mouth, meeting the exposed part of his dick and a part of your face.

“Slow down sweetheart, shit,” a condescending laugh, “I’m not going anywhere.” He hissed in a bit feeling your tongue desperately lap up and down his cock as you took the initiative to get completely lost in the feeling. 

It was all too lewd– he had stopped guiding you by bobbing your head, but kept a firm hold; all you did was suck him as if your life depended on it. His hefty cock felt divine to the tastebuds, weighing heavy down your throat and around your tongue. Frantically allowing your tongue to brush over the large veins running throughout his shaft, your hands jerking off what you could, letting the room fill up with the wet squelches. Moaning onto his cock the vibrations cued a grunt from Toji, sucking his massive tip with a ‘pop!’ He pulled you away, noticing the whine in your face when separated from his dick. He laid it on your face, grin sprawled out. 

“You suck dick good for a girl who only gets off to filthy fantasies about a man who she hates.” 

Panting, studying him while feeling incredibly small under his stare, catching your breath. So perfect, you looked so perfect to him.

“Fuck- I could just cum looking at your face like this,” gripping your hair earning a mewl from your throat, he held onto his dick tapping the tip of your tongue repeatedly, he grinned wider noticing how you desperately leaned into every tap. “Heh, want more huh? Coulda came from your throat, rather fuck it in your little pussy instead. I could tell you were a cock-deprived whore from the start.”

All you could do was blink up at him, gulping at everything he was saying, a new wave of arousal crashing down in your panties. Eyebrows furrowed, keeping steady eye contact with him, he noticed your fucked out expression. 

“Aw? No back-talk? Seem to have a lot to run your mouth about in that little diary, girl. Do you even remember your name? Already trained you well without stretching you out? Or does it make you feel ashamed to be this wet in the house of a man you hate so much? Do you have no shame?”

“I-I’m,” you cleared your hoarse voice swallowing any bit of saliva that didn’t engulf his cock, “not wet.”

He blankly stared down at your face before a loud chuckle eroded from his body, shaking him slightly, “Darling, you’re practically dripping on my kitchen floors. You think I can’t see you clenching your thighs f’me?”

“I-it’s not for y-you, Mr. Fushiguro-“

“Cut the shit, it’s Toji. Stand up.”

Pushing your knees off the position they were in for the longest time, you whined and stumbled while Toji watched amused. Standing on your feet, wobbling, he did the honors of throwing you over his shoulder eliciting a loud gasp as your torso made contact and leaned into his broad shoulders. His fingers lightly grazed your wet folds that leaked through your leggings, causing a slight gasp.

He only chuckled again, walking to his master bedroom. “Not wet, my ass.”

-

You’re not sure what round this was, but being thrown like a rag-doll by a man who easily overpowered every aspect of you was not how you expected this visit to go. He did the honors of prepping you for hours long– edging you and making sure you were on the brink of insanity so taking his cock in would feel much more manageable. At first, you winced taking him in, but the pain subsided once the overwhelming bliss of pleasure overtook all feelings of discomfort.

Toji started by fucking his tip in, rocking back and forth to let you become accustomed slightly. He quickly learned that you were nothing more than a cock-deprived whore.

“T-toji, y-you’re, ah! Breakin’ me!”

“Good.” His face had a wild expression, grinning ear to ear, his long onyx hair clinging to parts of his forehead from sweat while the rest dangled in your face. This man just found his new favorite plaything, he’d be damned to stop this. 

Toji had you mangled in a mating press, feet planted firmly into his mattress, feeling every last bit of dick he could give. Holding your thighs back with large hands, he drilled into your poor cunt, legs hanging off his broad shoulders, the sounds of skin-on-skin vibrating in the room alongside his pants, and your loud moans.

“T-toji, ah! I-I’m sorry, t-too,” a deeper thrust sent a harsh quiver from your lips while his lips dropped low to your ear, “Too! Big! Cant!”

Grunting into your ear, the same smirk plastered on his face. He angled himself even deeper, never stopping the rhythm, slamming his inches into you. All you could do was take it and moan desperately. Head thrown back while eyes rolled back into your skull. 

“Don’t” thrust, “care.” He stated casually in your ear while his voice grew huskier, “Gonna fuck my cum into this lil’ ah, fuck, pussy. Make sure it only learns how to take me in.” He chuckled while he never stopped drilling, he pulled all the way out, leaving only the tip in. Causing you to pant rapidly at the loss of dick, hating how empty yet incredibly full you felt just from his tip alone.

“P-Please, please Toji, please,” fingers dug into his biceps in a fucked out voice, “don’t stop.”

“Aw,” he placed his forehead atop yours, mockingly cooing at the mess you’ve become. “Why should I let you cum?” He whispered now, lips ghosting over your own, “Had a lot to say about me being tiny but your greedy little cunt is both clinging onto me and stretching out. Disgusting girl” 

“I’m so so so so sorry, Toji I promise I’ll be good, I’ll be so good.” Frantically scanning over his face, your body still throbbing from the positions he put you in. Meanwhile, he felt just as warm to the touch, the feeling of sex coated him entirely his composure not faltering.

Wrapping a strong hand around your throat he tightened his grip as he pummeled right into you at once, body jerking forward at the sudden stretch. A loud gasp and moan abruptly left your mouth. Before he could continue pumping into you, his lips still hovering over yours, he had a cocky smile still etched onto his face.

“Sent Megumi off with his little friends, they’re having a sleepover.” His smirk deepened, “Oh don’t worry, you’ll be proving to me how good of a whore you’ll be for me all night.” He scoffed, “Maybe then in your little diary you can write about how good I fuck you.” He pulled out yet again, suddenly feeling his body weight push off your body entirely, making you whine at the loss of sensation in your cunt and body. In an instant, he flipped you over.

Back arched completely, chest pressed down into the sprawled-out duvet, legs spread out ready for him to obliterate all self-dignity you had left, his knee pushed into the bed behind you. Placing his socked foot in the back of your head, he gripped his cockhead dragging it along your puffy folds. Moaning slightly at the feeling of contact as he circled his massive tip around your clit, your eyes fluttered shut again. Drool seeped through the sides of your mouth not caring that this man had stolen all sense of respect you once held for yourself.

“Now,” his voice husky again grunting as his cock slowly teased at your entrance before shoving it in at a tantalizing pace. Staring in awe at your hole as it glistened, hearing your cunt squelch around his thick width, “Hear her for me?” Physically tightening at the words he just said, he let out a slight grunt.

“Mhm,” you let out a mangled noise which caused him to chuckle, feeling his foot press deeper onto the back of your head while your fingers desperately gripped at the sheets below. 

“Maybe,” he pushed himself in, a wild smile on his face while he heard you whimper below, thrashing around still not used to a length this immense. “You should listen to her more often than that dumb little brain of yours princess.” 

Swiftly gripping your wrist, he firmly pinned it back at the small of your back, while rapidly thrusting in and out all at once. “Ah! Ah! T-Toji… So! Hnghhh, G-Good,” moans incredibly muffled as they were pushed into the sheets, cunt gripping onto him every time he moved in and out.

Grunting at the view of your ass clapping back at his pelvic region every time he drilled inside, your walls trying their hardest to take him. He only cackled before whistling, harshly slamming a hand down on your ass letting it recoil with a red mark left behind.

“Should’ve told you I read that stupid diary ages ago…”

═════════════════════

Gojo ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ Failed date

“Ding! New message from ‘toruu.’” The robotic voice announced in your headphones, breaking you from wallowing in your sorrowful haze.

Shuffling in your bed, trying to forget the events that unfolded earlier today, your hand reached out to your nightstand fidgeting around to find your phone. You thought maybe lying down with sad music blaring in your ears would help, but spoiler; it did not. Groaning slightly while your eyes try to adjust to the phone's brightness. A failed date equated to a failed day, lo and behold, your eccentric friend was at your side ready to wipe away any discomfort. 

Shifting your body upwards, a smile couldn’t help but be formed at his words. At the end of the day, the guy was just that, a guy. There was nothing to stress over. Was there a slight skip in a heartbeat hearing Satoru speak fondly upon you? Yes. But that’s all that there was. Risking a friendship with him wasn’t worth it in the grand scheme. He was appealing in all senses, there was no surprise that girls and boys alike flocked to him like candy. Getting laid wasn’t exactly the objective, but hanging onto things that weren’t feasible was. 

Joking with Satoru came second nature, but having him become defensive over a harmless joke startled you a bit. ‘There’s no way he’s acting like this.’ Nibbling at your bottom lip staring at him laughing in all caps. Is he being defensive? Eyes moving back and forth on the screen questioning what to say next, the conversation continued.

Snickering to yourself, ‘Oh, so he IS being defensive.’ The thought danced around in your head, rolling eyes at every other thing he texted. “There is no way he is serious,” mumbling to yourself like a madman in the dead of night alone while speaking to nothing but the screen at hand. 

A light ping indicated that your message was sent, as you glanced at the dots that appeared from his end. Breath slightly hitching at what he stated next.

Eyes widening, breath caught in throat quickly throwing the phone down face first as your face burnt. Breathing shallow breaths to catch up, time felt a bit still before shaking hands gripped the phone, and slowly brought it into your line of sight. 

My God was Satoru Gojo, huge.

His tip was a light dusty pink, almost made to be kissed, forming a beautiful head that had a bead of translucent precum decorating the slit. The shaft was thick, matching his milky pale tone and fading into an ombre ending right where the tip started. His veins were many, mapped out all around his shaft, up and down, a prominent one stood at the center. It looked heavy, he appeared to be standing up in the picture. A white-happy trail formed alongside the end of his abs and faded around into his neatly groomed bush. You blinked slowly, taking in the image of your best friend’s fat cock. He wasn’t lying. At all. He had to be pushing 8 inches and more. This was the image alone, thumb hovering slightly over the video attachment. Feeling your cunt pulsate slightly and clit growing a bit hard, shuffling some more. 

��I can't be getting wet over my friend. This is so wrong, he’s probably joking too right? Guys do this all the time with their guy friends. Except, I’m not a guy…’

Biting the bullet and taking the initiative, clicking the video attachment was a wrong, wrong idea. Still, in the same position, his gray sweat pushed down his mid-thigh, the flash was strong in the video. In your ears, everything was heard. Still standing erect, you could hear him lightly chuckle, almost as if he was taunting you in the same room. For some reason, the slick heat flooded more, He brought his large veiny hand, placing it side by side with his cock, holy shit, it was larger than his hand. He spoke your name in a sultry voice one that sent waves crashing down your pussy, a voice that you’ve never heard before. 

“You already know how big my hand is, I mean you’ve held it before. Do with that information what you will.” You could hear the smirk in his voice before plopping on the bed before him, a soft grunt echoed in your ears. So his dick was heavy, it flopped straight on his abs which elicited a laugh on his end. 

“Sorry, I couldn't send you it while lying down. It’s a bit too heavy.” With that, the video ended. Gulping and staring dumbfounded, your fingers anxiously wrote whatever they could, trying to keep any semblance of a friendly demeanor. 

Sighing while rolling your eyes at his behavior, mentally sighing that he's back acting like the immature soul he’s always been. Guess, it’s time to rely on the good ol’ vibrator to solve this problem. Knowing him he’d probably hang this compliment over your head for eternity and that was that with this conversation, which is why what he stated startled you a bit.

Staring at the screen once more, feeling a bit anxious about his response. All that could be thought of is if the wrong thing was said to him. He’d be over the moon hearing that his cock is big as fuck, right? Sighing while dropping your shoulders and clicking the side button to shut the phone off, eyes closing once more while the back of your head met the soft headboard. 

“Ding! New message from: ‘toruu.’”

Eyes widening, the heat still pooling in your lace panties, thanking yourself for another failed date. Within ten minutes the phone was chucked out of hand, racing to get ready for his arrival even though it wasn’t the typical hangout.

Slipping on a lacy, cerulean bra and throwing it on, keeping the same undies on having a feeling that the slick wetness would be favored for you both, fixing your hair, spritzing a gourmand perfume, applying a bubble-gum colored lip gloss, and pulling on a light blue hoodie, tight black spandex shorts, with black house sandals. It wasn’t long before a certain man rang the doorbell.

Rushing to the door while maintaining some form of composure and unlocking it to be met with piercing eyes and a shit-eating grin towering over you. He wore the same sweats in the video and a black hoodie that did very little to hide his massive frame.

“Hi,” he stated in his typical voice, eyes looking over his glasses down at your face, as he put one strong arm over the doorframe. “Hello, ‘Toru…” audibly speaking so only he heard, while a light blush scattered across your face.

“Heard your date got canceled or whatever, what a bummerrrrrrr.” He rolled his eyes exaggerating his disdain due to unexpected plans. “Gonna let me in?” His voice stated in a whisper while studying the curves of your body. 

Slightly nodding, shifting to the side to let the tall figure in, a waft of his cologne hit all senses and shot straight to your core. 

While he walked in, your hand pressed against the doorframe closing it and locking it before a large hand turned you around. Gasping at the sudden feel of his hand around your waist, while the rest of your body was pushed against the door. Staring up at his face, not recognizing the look displayed on his usual happy-go-lucky face, painted a darkened expression of desire. Satoru pressed your chest against the front of his body, pushing you closer by the hand on the back of your waist. Caging you in his embrace, the other hand laid flat behind the door.

Smelling his sweet breath from the various candies he indulged in, the air hit the tip of your nose while his lips were merely inches away from your own. 

“No offense,” his voice silky, smooth, and deeper than usual, “Kinda glad this asshole bailed on you. Wouldn’t know what to do with a woman like you anyways.” His smile deepened while you responded by cupping his soft face in both hands. 

Breath a bit higher than a whisper, lips almost touching his while his grip on your waist felt stronger, “Oh, yeah ‘Toru, and you know what to do?” 

Feeling a vibration from his chest against your frame, as a laugh erupted from him, he stared into your eyes intensely. “Let me kiss your lips and show you. I think you know by now my words match up with my actions.”

Almost on command, both of you smashed your lips into one another savoring the feeling of tasting what you wanted for so long. Mutually moaning slightly upon the impact, Satoru quickly moved his large hands to caress all over your tinier frame. Ass, waist, thighs, hair, neck, his long slender fingers were everywhere, anywhere, every chance he could get to press you impossibly close to him.

Mouth agape, he took it as an opportunity to slip his tongue in, slithering it around your mouth while your tongue circled his own. Hands entangled in his hair, tilting your head, and on cue, he did the same. Tongues squelching and roaming each other's mouths as if you’ve been thirsty and the only cure was one another. His hands finally stop at your ass, giving a light squeeze before carrying you up, wrapping your legs around his torso.

Breaking away faces mimicking a blush on both faces, a string of saliva connecting your lips. Slightly panting as your forehead meets his, he stares deeply into your eyes. “Cute and all,” he says still in a haze, “but those weren’t the lips I was talking about.”

-

Hovering over his torso, while your mouth was stuffed with his huge cock. Hungrily lapping up his dick with your tongue, your hand wrapped around his base in a circular motion going up and down while your mouth struggled slightly to take the entirety of him in. Moans sent vibrations across his huge shaft, he was so big, so so so big. You loved every minute of it, it was evident with the sticky residue of cum that formed on his thighs and pubic hair from the previous rounds you’d gone. Saliva pooled on his dick, to rest on his balls and underneath his thighs. 

It was a mess, “Mhm!” You panted, separating yourself from having his cock buried down your throat but quickly attaching your lips at the head, smearing precum on like a lip product. Lapping the precum up and down the slit, before indulging his length back in. “Sa-Satoru- Ah! S-Stop!” Lips making a ‘pop!’ noise after pulling his dick from your throat, hands still echoing a wet sound as they both rapidly jerked him off.

Gojo laid on his back his face stuffed in your cunt, “Cant, ahhhh, too good,” His voice sounding hoarse. Bringing his head up even further into your slick heat, he licked long strips with his tongue from clit, hole, and ass. Both of his large hands spread your cheeks apart, your discharge soaking the bottom half of his face. He dove in head first, nose pressed directly in your pussy while his mouth harshly sucked at your clit, twirling it around his tongue effortlessly. Years of sucking on candy couldn’t compare to this. Pulling away both hands from your ass, he placed them on the front of your thighs, forcing you to sit on his face with a welp that broke away the string of moans.

Continuing to jerk him off, your eyes crossed while spitting down his length, feeling him twitch slightly under your motion. You mewled, “Mhpmh! Satoruuuuuuu!”

Harshly sucking on it before pulling away, he kissed your clit before dragging his head around in a circular motion licking all around like a madman. He closed his eyes and buried his tongue deep in your walls that tightened and contracted around him. Bobbing his head back and forth, tongue fucking your tiny hole, thumb diligently working in circles on your swollen clit. Slowly feeling your high soon approaching in waves and feeling him twitch even more violently underneath you. 

He moaned deep into your cunt while high-pitched yells escaped your throat, “Oh! Oh! Oooooh! Oh, Satoru! I’m c-cumm- ah!” Soon enough, Satoru’s face was full of liquid when your orgasm arrived. Sticking a tongue out noticing him jerk in your hands, closing your eyes, while cum painting your tongue and face. Swallowing him all while quivering from the impact of cumming all over his face.

For once in your life, this was the most quiet Satoru has ever been. 

Breaking away from your cunt, Satoru took a deep breath, laughing to himself shakily.

“Fuck, I should pay men more often not to date you.”

[luveline]

hi 🙈 would u do a request of steve with a reader that’s an emotional drunk? love ur work 💖

thanks for requesting lovely! fem, 1k

“I think that you think you have a way higher threshold for getting drunk than you actually have.” 

You nod emphatically. “Yeah!”

Steve grins. You’re sitting on the high stool next to his slowly attempting to spin yourself around. He’s holding the chair steady with his leg under the bar. A milkshake and a burger sit in front of you largely untouched. 

Steve takes a sip of his own milkshake and feels the frozen vanilla hit the roof of his mouth as you fill the silence. “‘Cos I always drink a bunch right at the start of the night thinking it won’t get me, and it does!”

Steve doesn’t drink at all anymore. He doesn’t like the idea of being inebriated, whether of his own will or not, but he doesn’t mind being your guardian for the night, any night you want. Robin got you plastered because you’re drinking for two, a joke she insists on and nobody finds all that funny sober. If she said it to you now you’d crumple off of your seat to the floor and cry tears of joy. Everything is heightened. Your excitement, your boredom, your hunger. You’d pleaded with Steve to buy you a burger, and have quickly forgotten it’s there. 

He takes your knife and cuts the burger in half, then again into quarters. “Here,” he says quietly, more subdued than he means to be in the face of your freneticism. “Before it gets cold, baby.” 

He likes all of the pet names now he’s with you. You’re a sweetheart, an angel, his bub, babe, baby, it doesn’t matter how corny the word is, if he thinks about you in the right way he can say it with full sincerity. Babygirl was a bad phase, but baby sticks. 

“Thank you,” you say, reaching under his arm to link you together as you pick up one of your quarters, lettuce and tomato and sauce spilling out the sides. 

“You’re welcome. You know that.” 

You smile around a huge bite and wipe your appled cheeks clean with the side of your hand, giving him these looks you’ve perfected, not shy but almost, I’m so lucky unsaid but felt. Steve can’t really understand why you’d feel that way about him, he’s a loser, he’s not pretty, he doesn’t work out anymore, but none of that stuff matters because why should it? He doesn’t care that you’re a lightweight, that you snore like a freight train, that you pull your lip in between your teeth whenever you’re thinking too deeply and accidentally look like the victim of a botched face lift. It’s all inconsequential. The stuff that matters is your arm like a weight through his and how happy you were when he paid for your burger and fries. 

He squeezes you under the chin as you chew to hold you still for a kiss. “Love you. You look beautiful.” 

“I do?” you ask through burger. You try to cover your mouth best you can, but Steve doesn’t care. 

“You do. Tonight was fun, yeah? I had a great time with you, like always.” 

Your eyebrows pinch up. Your eyes begin to swim. Steve blinks in shock as you swallow and grab onto his wrist, your lips shiny with what might be ketchup as you begin to pout. “Steve…”

That’s his fault. My bad. He knows what kind of drunk you are but he knows how much it means to you regardless to hear that you’re appreciated. He shouldn’t have said it yet, maybe a little later when you’d calmed down and your fries had soaked up the beer in your stomach, but it’s too late. He lets his gaze soften. “I mean it,” he says, rubbing your chin with his thumb swiftly, before wrapping his arm around you, lest you feel wobbly again. “Spending time with you is my favourite thing to do.” 

“What’s your problem?” you ask, eyes filling with tears, the biggest one he’s ever seen flushed over you waterline as you screw up your face. “That’s so nice. I love you, too.”

“I know,” he says, and if he dips into a babying tone, well, that’s his business. 

“You had a good time?” you ask through a shuddery sob. 

“I had the best time.” 

You turn your face into his arm. Steve ignores the waitress staring at you both to smile into your temple. “You’re not supposed to cry, it’s a good thing!” he says lightly. “I just wanted you to know I had a good time tonight.” 

“I had a good time too!” you splutter. 

“I know,” he says, “I know you did, why don’t you try and eat some more of your food? You’ll feel less… like this.” 

“Sorry!”

“No, don’t be,” he says, firmer now, “it’s okay, I don’t mind, I just don’t want you to be upset–”

“I’m not upset! I love you!” 

He can hear the girls in the booth by the door giggling. Steve laughs into your head, ushering your face into his neck to give you some time and a space to calm down. “I love you too. Even if you’re, like, ninety percent bud light right now.” 

It takes you ages to calm down and he can’t blame you. You’re super, super drunk, and despite your best attempts at dinner you’ve basically got an empty stomach. He’s trying to save you from puking with the burger, so after a couple of minutes of you saying that you love him and that tonight was really fun, he pulls you out of his neck to meet your eyes. “Can you eat some more for me?” he asks, smiling, knowing it’s ridiculous. 

You love it, digging in with your cheeks still wet. Steve wipes at them with the back of his index finger. 

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you say around a crinkly bite of romaine lettuce. 

“I’m not, but I don’t mind.” 

You sniffle. “You have to eat too,” you say. 

He offers his hand for holding. You take it, letting them swing between your two chairs, returning for now to your meals. Steve’s opened the floodgates and he’s expecting another bout of crying before bed. Hopefully not while he’s holding your hair back over the toilet bowl. 

[the-californicationist]

he gives great gifts

Price/Reader - TW: remote vibrator, minor female ejaculation

“Hey, love, I’m home,” Price’s voice called out to you, summoning you to the front door. 

He was carrying all of your packages and mail, along with his rucksack, home for the weekend. You took the mail, helping him leave the worries of the day at the door to join you in the kitchen. You were making his favorite, chicken spaghetti, and you just started the oven. 

Your captain sat at the island counter, opening up the mail and sorting out the bills. He kissed you as you walked past him, his mustache tickling your lip and cheek

“Mm,” he moaned, “How was your day?”

“Good,” you smiled, flirting with him, “Missed you, though. How was yours? Any news from Laswell?”

“No, not yet. Still waiting on the intel. Oh, hey, it came!” He lit up, tearing into a small package with his knife.

“What’s that?” You asked over your shoulder, bending to put the chicken in the oven. 

“Bought you an early birthday present. Come see,” he was holding a black box, lifting the lid to reveal the prize inside. 

“John, I thought we said no gifts? What did you… oh, my God. Is that what I think it is?”

“Yeah,” he smiled like he had just won a medal, prideful and obviously chuffed, “...and it has a remote.”

You were staring at a lime green, silicone dildo. It was shaped like a curved smile, one large end for insertion and the other smaller end to be nestled on top of your clit. 

“A remote?” You asked, taking out the toy and feeling its smoothness in your hands. It was lightweight, but very solid. It seemed expensive, well-crafted, and like John had spent way too much money on you, as usual.

It buzzed in your hands, coming alive with a low rumble. It shocked you, and you almost dropped it.

“Oh, my God!” You laughed, “What was that?”

He held up a matching lime green remote. It was small, like a car fob, and it had a few different buttons to choose from. Price’s face was full of mischief,

“Put it in, love.”

“I’m making dinner,” you protested, but you didn’t put it down. 

“So?” He whispered darkly, dragging your hips toward him, kissing you deeply, licking your mouth and leaving little love bites down the side of your neck.

You giggled, smiling sweetly. He made it so easy to give in to him. You sighed,

“Okay, okay. Help me put it in, honey.”

Price put the remote down and slid your pants down to your thighs, pulling your panties down with them. He took the toy from you and opened the little packet of lube that came in the pouch, coating the thick end. He hesitated, slipping his own finger into you first, finding you a little too wet and already turned on. 

He made a face, full of delighted surprise, teasing you,

“Someone’s excited, hm?”

Impatient, he slid the toy into you gently, fitting it at your entrance and pressing it up into you. He pulled it back out again and used it to fuck you for a few strokes, making you moan quietly, leaning forward to steady yourself on his huge forearm. 

“Mm,” he groaned, “You like that, love?”

“Yeah,” you gasped.

He settled it all the way in and made sure the front was in the right place before replacing your panties and your leggings back up around your waist. You kissed him again, and went back into the kitchen to finish up with dinner. 

The excitement of knowing he could control your pleasure was building inside of you. You didn’t see the remote on the countertop, and he was busy recycling the boxes, so you thought you were safe. You leaned down again to check the chicken, and then you almost came out of your skin as the toy came alive inside of you. 

Price was unbothered, pouring a few fingers of whisky into his glass, innocently. He saw you looking at him and smiled knowingly, taking a long swig of the amber liquid into his mouth. You glared, but you needed to put the pasta on to boil. So, you turned back around to grab a pot. 

Inside of you, the toy buzzed, low and rumbling, shaking your clit and rattling against your g-spot in tandem, freezing you in place, riding out the waves of sensation. You struggled to bring yourself back to your task, but you wanted to play along, so you brought the pot over to the sink, panting, trying to work through the blinding pleasure, filling the pot with warm water. You had a few seconds to wait for it to reach the top, so you closed your eyes, reveling in the vibrations. 

You let out a moan, eyes still wrenched shut, hands on either side of the sink. 

“Um, love?” Price interrupted your lust, pointing to the pot which was now overflowing.

“Oh, shit,” you turned off the tap, and managed to pour out some of the water without too much trouble.

However, as you turned to walk it back over to the stove, he turned up the intensity. There was now some sort of… rotation… happening inside of you. It honestly felt like you were being fucked, like a cock was thrusting up into you, punishing your core. You stopped in your tracks, gripping the heavy pot for dear life, moaning in full volume. 

“John!”

Everything stopped. You gasped, your eyes flitting to him immediately. The captain was grinning from ear to ear, drinking his whisky and enjoying the show. He chuckled,

“What is it? You alright?” 

You laughed in short, panting breaths, rolled your eyes at him, and put the pot down to open the pantry for the spaghetti. When you reached for the door handle, the sensations were back, sending bolts of pleasure through your pussy, making your panties damp as you gushed out around the unrelenting dildo. You grabbed the handle tighter, steadying yourself against the frame of the door, resting your body against it, keening like a paid whore. Just as you were about to tumble over the edge, inches away from coming, it stopped again. 

“John Price,” you turned toward him, eyes wild, “You did not just - ”

“I’m starving,” he said casually, not even looking in your direction, pretending to scroll through his phone, “Think you’ll have dinner ready soon, love?”

You groaned, opening the door and reaching for the pasta boxes, waiting for him to click the button again. 

There was nothing. 

You waited in the pantry a little longer, baiting him.

Nothing. Not even a little jiggle. 

You barged out of the pantry, and as soon as he saw you, you were sent to your knees. He’d turned whatever setting it was all the way up. You dropped the pasta boxes, crawling on the floor of the kitchen like an animal, screaming out lurid cries and feeling your thighs tremble from the onslaught. 

“Did you think I would let you hide in there where I couldn’t see you?” His question was delivered with cold cruelty. He had left his seat and was now standing over you, remote in hand, watching you suffer at his feet. You begged for mercy,

“Baby, please, God… I need… oh, fuck!”

“Pick up the pasta. Now,” He commanded you, his voice loud and oppressive.

“John, please,” you clutched at the leg of his jeans, feeling like you were coming in waves and waves and waves. 

He reached down with his empty hand and grabbed you by the hair at the base of your skull, forcing you to look up at him, 

“I said: Pick. Up. The. Pasta.”

“Okay, okay…” You were trying to breathe. You let go of his pant leg and reached for the boxes, feeling your pussy clench around the toy as it fucked the life out of you. 

Your hands were shaking. The dry spaghetti made the sound of cheap maracas, clattering out of the box and splashing in the boiling water. You tried to open the second box, and you couldn’t. Your hands weren’t following your commands.

Price’s eyes bore into you as he stood next to you, watching you come apart under his control. Very casually, he took the box from you, opened it, and handed it back to you. He was breathing hard, as if he, too, was being subjected to the same sensations. 

Unable to stop yourself, you looked down at his cock. It was pressing against his pants, making a perfect outline of itself, hard as a stone. He caught you looking and palmed himself over the top of the fabric, squeezing the head to relieve some of the tension. 

You were practically drooling for him. But, you went back to the meal, putting the other box of pasta in as gently as you could. The way that this toy was fucking you almost reminded you of having John’s fingers in you while he sucked on your clit. The vibrations and steady rocking movements brought you to completion in a way where you couldn’t tell where one orgasm ended and the other began. 

As you turned your back to face Price, he moved toward you, pulling you away from the stove and shoving you up against the countertop. He snaked his hand between your legs and pushed up on the toy, forcing it to fuck you deeper than normally possible, shoving it in you mercilessly. 

“John, I’m going to come, please!”

You came, but it was unique. You felt like you were wetting yourself, coming so hard that fluid was squirting out of you, soaking your panties and leggings, along with John’s invasive hand. 

“Mm, fuck,” he growled in your ear, “Did you just squirt for me? Bloody fucking hell.”

“I don’t…” you couldn’t form coherent thoughts, “I dunno. John, help me, please…”

“Sweet girl, do you need this cock?” he pulled your bottoms down, trapping your knees with them, and held you up by your waist. He turned off the vibrator and tugged it out of you gently. You were so slick that it slid out of you without much resistance. Your pussy was throbbing, flooded with come, and desperate for a familiar sort of relief. 

“Yes, please, God,” you begged, tears in the corners of your eyes. 

“Alright, love,” he let you feel his hot head at your pulsating entrance, ready to sink into you, “It’s alright, I'm here now.”

Reblogs and comments deeply appreciated!

AO3 Link

[rhaeheartzsquirrelz]

Complaints

Sevika x Female Reader (Fluff)

Getting drunk and having your girlfriend take you home.

Contains: Intoxication, ass tapping. (literally nothing too sexual). Reader wears revealing clothes. (idk if that’s like, an ick?

Proofread || Note: So… I broke my phone :) hahhaaaaaaaaaaa 🤦🏽‍♀️🤦🏽‍♀️🤦🏽‍♀️🤦🏽‍♀️🤦🏽‍♀️🤦🏽‍♀️🤦🏽‍♀️🤦🏽‍♀️ This is so rushed, im so sorry omg.

Fourth drink down and you were beginning to feel tipsy. The loud music and the bright lights weren’t helping, and don’t get yourself started on the nagging laughter coming from the men sat beside you on the stools.

With a grimace, you turn to face the crowd of people; who were dancing to the upbeat music. They looked like they were having fun, unlike you. It had been half an hour since you unattached yourself from your girlfriend, who was now playing poker with a bunch of men, and went to grab a drink. As a lightweight, it never took much effort to get yourself drunk, so with only a few shots of tequila you were just that.

With your uncomfortably tight clothes, you stepped off the stool and made your way back to your muscular girlfriend. Sevika, who saw you coming, wrapped her mech hand around your hips the second you sat down. “Finally came back?” She smirked out, pulling the cigarillo from inbetween her dark lips. “You’re acting like I was gone for an hour..” hands on the edge of the table, fingers playing with the roughened wood, you lean your heavy head against her shoulder.

“In thirty minutes y’managed to get yourself drunk. Funny.” The woman scoffed, though there was no hint of bitterness in her tone. Instead, her words were full of fondness. You guessed she could smell the alcohol from you, must’ve been strong.

See, the main reason you’d stepped away from her was because she was being completely unreasonable— as you called it— your girlfriend had been complaining about your revealing outfit the second the two of you had entered The Last Drop. She’d even offered to lend you her, most prized, cape. Don’t get her wrong, she let you wear what you wanted, just not when you were trembling in the cold.

“Not funny.” With a roll of your eyes, you shift onto your girlfriend’s lap. It was definitely more comfortable, much more warmer too. Your mind was still trying to process a lot of things, so all you needed was a good place to relax. “In the middle of a game, love.” Sevika’s cool, metallic finger ran up and down your back, soothing your heated, tingling skin. “So?”— “So, you’re movin’ too much.” The woman gave your waist a squeeze and held you in place. “How much longer? I’ve been watching you play for like.. uhm, a good while now?” Your words slurred as you managed to speak. Your girlfriend took the hint and shook her head in slight disapproval. “Maybe y’shouldn’t of drank so much?” You, having a huge headache and clearly not in the mood, gave her a squeeze on her cheek. “Oh, yeah, poke your girlfriend’s cheek until she’s givin’ in.” This tactic had worked before, and you were confident in your attempt.

And, of course, you succeeded. Turns out, nagging in your girlfriend’s ear about the randomness things all the while squeezing her cheeks was the only way to pull her out of a game.

Sevika was forced to give up with a deep sigh before throwing her cards onto the table and walking you to your shared apartment; which wasn’t far. Arriving and locking the door behind the her, Sevika let out an exaggerated sigh. “Y’happy now?” Yeah, you were. “My head was hurting, not my fault.” Your migraine had lessened in time, thanks to the fresh air you’d gotten and the warmth from your girlfriend. “Hope you’re ready to be hung-over, baby.” “Yeah, I am. I’ll be fine with some medicine.” You follow Sevika into the bedroom before collapsing onto the bed, she followed suit and pulled you into her arms.

“Y’expect me to help your stubborn ass?” She gruffed in half-seriousness as she nuzzled into your neck. “Think we need to change you, I don’t understand why you didn’t wear something more.. functional..” of course Sevika disapproved of your outfit, she was the only one allowed to enjoy them; so to wear them outside the house would only rile her up. “This is functional, it’s pretty too!” A miniskirt with a laced top sure would get you a “lot of attention”, which you, sometimes, didn’t mind. “Pretty, sure. But, functional? Don’t think so, sweet thing.” Although it was hard to make quick movements in the fear of flashing someone, the outfit you wore was one of Sevika’s favourites, so you didn’t understand why she was complaining so much. “Will you just change me?”

It took Sevika a good while to figure out how to take off your complicated skirt. When she did, she gave your ass a pat before slipping you into some cozy pajamas. “Will you quit doin’ that?” You let your girlfriend carry you back into bed and she pulled you tightly against her muscular chest. “Y’like it, don’t lie.” The warmth of her breath mixed in with her sweet and metallic scent had you more relaxed than ever. Your mind had stopped spinning, your body just melted into her, and her touch had you more than content. You couldn’t feign the annoyance anymore.

“Maybe I do..”

[my-castles-crumbling]

first drink - @wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 357

Remus was fourteen the first time they all snuck a bottle back from Hogsmeade under their cloaks, laughing the whole way, faces red from exertion and the cold. 

He’d had butterbeer before, but when they sat around the dorm room in a small circle, passing a flask of something much stronger back and forth between them, all of them pretending not to grimace and gag at the taste, he realized that this was different.

It took a bit for it to take effect. For his head to become woozy and his legs to begin to feel strangely light. For that little voice in his head to melt away.

The four of them sat up for hours, laughing at nothing, coming up with elaborate plans for pranks and glory and a peaceful future, conversations melding together into one ball of happiness.

But he found himself coming back into his own head when he turned to see both James and Peter asleep on the floor.

“Lightweights,” Sirius whispered, causing both of them to fall into a fit of giggles that lasted so long Remus had to hold his stomach from laughing. After Sirius finally stopped chuckling, he gazed blearily over to the window. “Oh, look Moony!”

Both of them stumbled together to stare outside and Sirius eagerly pointed upward. “That’s me, look, there!”

Remus, of course, couldn’t see. But he pretended to look anyway, squinting hard and then turning to his friend. And when he turned to Sirius, his breath escaped from his body.

Sirius had never looked so…pretty. Eyes sparkling with the light of the moon, face rouged from the drink, hair down and flowing around his shoulders, he looked almost ethereal. At Remus’s intake of breath, Sirius turned. “What?” he asked, blinking rapidly.

“Oh. You’re just…you’re pretty,” Remus mumbled, too drunk to regret his words.

At that, Sirius lit up, a huge smile spreading across his face. “Thanks, Moons,” he grinned, his voice soft. “You are, too.”

And Remus fell asleep with a smile on his face.

When the two boys awoke the next morning, one had forgotten the whole exchange. The other just pretended to forget.

[mayakern]

A Note From Our Founder (and some other things)/ The World's Longest Newsletter

Hey, y’all. The past week has brought us a lot of extremes: first the fear, horror, shame and despair as we realized just how dire the business’ financial situation was… and then relief, gratitude, hope, joy—so many overwhelming feelings I don’t even have the words for them all. Y’all showed up for us in a big way and I cannot even begin to express how thankful I am for that. Many of you have followed the store for years. You’ve watched as it’s grown—bloomed—and seen me do the same, as for better or worse, my identity and the business’ are so closely intertwined. So much of my life is invested in this little indie clothing brand that the prospect of it hurtling towards failure made me feel like I, too, was hurtling towards failure. But you all showed up and helped us avoid a huge crisis and for that I cannot even begin to say how thankful I am. How thankful we all are. Not only did sales rise to meet our crisis, but you showed us such an overwhelming amount of kindness—sharing our store on social media and with friends, offering us words of encouragement, telling us just how much you love our clothing and how much it has meant to you—that will touch me forever. We’re not quite out of the woods yet—our immediate payroll concerns have been addressed, but we’ll still have to get a bit scrappy and roll with the punches for the next few months, if not longer. But thanks to all of you, now our problems look solvable and not like unavoidable catastrophes. Thank you. Maya Founder/Co-Owner Maya Kern LLC

In case you haven’t heard, we’re still running our sale—almost everything in our store, including garments that were already put on clearance, are 20-50% off. Many items are being sold at or below the amount we paid to make them to help us recoup some of our production costs. Some of our buttery soft viscose shirts are as cheap as $9 right now! This sale will be ending Sunday night at midnight US central time, so don’t miss it!

Also, we heard from y’all that our store’s auto region detection was buggy as heck, so for your convenience we’ve added a “Store Location” drop down to the top of our store page. Many of our items are already sold out in the US, but some of those sold out garments are still in stock in Canada.

We’ve heard y’all loud and clear—many of y’all have asked us when our petticoats will return and have also suggested that we run some preorders to help us secure funds for production. So from January 16th at 12pm Central to January 30th at 12pm central, we’ll be running preorders for our much loved petticoats! For those of you unfamiliar with our petticoats, they are a lightweight, sensory friendly under layer that adds the perfect amount of volume under our midi skirts. While many petticoats cut corners by either offering only a limited size range or by stacking layer upon layer of scratchy, flimsy tulle to create the desired volume while growing heavier with every added layer, our petticoats use fewer layers of a stiffer, higher quality tulle that maintains its volume under the weight of a skirt. Because all tulle regardless of quality can be quite scratchy, we also added a satin slip as the base layer of our petticoats to make sure that they are sensory friendly and non-irritating.

This time they’ll be available in classic black and lovely blush. We’ll also be offering a small discount to anyone who buys a petticoat during preorders. (Please keep in mind that the blush petticoat photos are mockups and so the final color may be slightly different)

And lastly, if you’ve made it this far, we have some production news! I could not be happier about how much y’all have loved the cozy matcha set—they’re already sold out in the US (tho our Canada store still has a few left!). Creating this loungewear set has been on my bucket list for so long and I am ecstatic that y’all share my love for them. Thanks to how good the sales have been, we’ve been able to plan more cozy sets for later this year, even though they are quite expensive to make. First up will be a spring/summer version with short sleeves and shorts. These will have a different, less warm interior but will still be made of 100% cotton.

I have some ideas rolling around for a new cozy set or two for the end of 2025, but I’ll just let y’all stay curious about that. In truth I am so excited about the next winter concept that I can hardly bear to keep the secret, but I shouldn’t get ahead of myself.

Thanks so much for reading and have a great rest of your day!

[writers-potion]

Writing Weapons (1): Swords

The Thrusting Sword

Type of fight scene: entertaining, duels, non-lethal fights, non-gory deaths, swashbuckling adventure

Mostly used in: Europe, including Renaissance and Regency periods

Typical User: silm, male or female, good aerobic fitness

Main action: thrust, pierce, stab

Main motion: horizontal with the tip forward

Shape: straight, often thin, may be lightweight

Typical Injury: seeping blood, blood stains spreading

Strategy: target gaps in the armous, pierce a vital organ

Disadvantage: cannot slice through bone or armour

Examples: foil, epee, rapier, gladius

The Cleaving Sword

Type of fight scene: gritty, brutal, battles, cutting through armour

Typical user: tall brawny male with broad shulders and bulging biceps

Mostly used in: Medieval Europe

Main action: cleave, hack, chop, cut, split

Main motion: downwards

Shape: broad, straight, heavy, solid, sometime huge, sometimes need to be held in both hands, both sides sharpened

Typical Injury: severed large limbs

Strategy: hack off a leg, them decapitate; or split the skull

Disadvantage: too big to carry concealed, too heavy to carry in daily lifem too slow to draw for spontaneous action

Examples: Medieval greatsword, Scottish claymore, machete, falchion

The Slashing Sword

Type of fight scene: gritty or entertaining, executions, cavalry charge, on board a ship

Mostly used in: Asia, Middle East

Typical user: male (female is plausible), any body shape, Arab, Asian, mounted warrior, cavalryman, sailor, pirate

Main action: slash, cut, slice

Main motion: fluid, continuous, curving, eg.figure-eight

Shape: curved, often slender, extremely sharp on the outer edge

Typical Injury: severed limbs, lots of spurting blood

Strategy: first disable opponent's sword hand (cut it off or slice into tendons inside the elbow)

Disadvantage: unable to cut thorugh hard objects (e.g. metal armor)

Examples: scimitar, sabre, saif, shamshir, cutlass, katana

Blunders to Avoid:

Weapons performing what they shouldn't be able to do (e.g. a foil slashing metal armour)

Protagonists fighting with weapons for which they don't have the strength or build to handle

The hero carrying a huge sword all the time as if it's a wallet

Drawing a big sword form a sheath on the back (a physical impossiblity, unless your hero is a giant...)

Generic sword which can slash, stab, cleave, slash, block, pierce, thrust, whirl through the air, cut a few limbs, etc...as if that's plausible

adapted from <Writer's Craft> by Rayne Hall

[deerboybreeder]

LONG fucking fantasy below the cut whoops. Tw for rape, drugging and stalking ♥️

I move to a small town in the middle of nowhere to completely restart my life. The community is small and tight knit, but thankfully extremely accepting, so me being trans is a non issue! Or at least, people have the decency to not say anything about it to my face. I feel welcomed in this town, though I spend a lot of my time improving the patch of land I moved onto and less talking to residents, even though I've met nearly everyone.

I start getting letters in the mail, complimenting me in sweet, flowery language. It makes me feel special, but there's no return address, so I can't write back. But over time, the letters get more possessive. Once, the letter describes my body fairly graphically, in all the most complimenting ways, but it's clear they saw me working shirtless in my garden, tits free to the wind. My land is huge and fenced in, someone would have to have jumped my fence and gotten very close without my noticing to see me doing that.

I start spending a little less time at home and more time in town, hoping to make some connections to keep my mind off my "secret admirer", who started recently describing how beautiful and motherly of a man I would make swollen with his baby. I don't tell anyone about it, embarrassed by the content, and the fact that despite the obvious escalation, it makes me wet to think about all this attention. I'm not beloved by the town, but I make a few good friends.

One day, a year to the day I moved into town, a package shows up at my door. Its from my secret admirer, a very small bottle of wine with a letter attached. Praising all my accomplishments this year, in detail, in order. Singing my praises and wishing for even more in the upcoming year. Against my better judgement, I accept, and take the wine inside.

I generally am a lightweight when it comes to alcohol- I learned that recently, out with friends at the local bar. One had bought me a drink and I needed help home afterwards, and the friend that bought me the round felt so badly about my state he walked me home himself. But I had nothing else to do that day, so I poured myself a glass anyway.

I don't drink often, so I didn't recognize right away that something was wrong. Didn't notice that I was fading in and out of consciousness on the couch until one moment I was watching a documentary on wilderness survival, and the next it was about space travel. My body was heavy, I could barely move, so the couch would have to do that night.

I almost chalked it up to overindulgence when my front door opened.

It was a small town- I had no reason to lock my door. Even my secret admirer hadn't made mention of wanting to break in, just lamented that they couldn't work up the courage to approach me first. But apparently, this was how they chose to do it.

I yelled, a slurred and disoriented thing. Time was runny, and I didn't even have time to process running before they were on me. A mask, sunglasses and a ball cap obscured my attackers face, hair seeming meticulously tucked into the cap to further obscure their identity.

I tried to struggle, but I'm small and they're much bigger- not to mention the wine that I realize must've been drugged. They shush me, clearly altering their voice so I wouldn't know who they are- small town, after all.

They pull up my shirt, tangling me in it and covering my face so I can't see them. Everything is running together, and at some point they've taken my pants off too, Im lying naked before them. Everything narrows down to sensations that run together. A mouth sucking on my nipple, my attackers hands running reverently down my body. They're murmuring words I can't understand because my head is swimming from the spiked drink. Their fingers find my wet and waiting slit, and they thumb over my tdick, and despite myself I make a strangled noise.

Then, I am aware of their cock at my entrance, and I get another burst of fighting, but it's useless. They shush me, kissing the side of my face through the fabric of the shirt around my face, and promise to be gentle as they push themself into my dripping cunt. They moan openly into my ear, muffled by the shirt, and start playing with my tits while they rape me.

Everything is blurry, I keep slipping in and out of consciousness, only to wake up and find that they're still fucking me. They whisper praises, saying they wish they'd done this a year ago when I first moved in, how much of a tease I was working in my garden shirtless or changing in front of the window. How we were going to be so happy together, how excited they were to realize I had a womb they could fill. How they'd start with one, but they knew I would look heavenly round and heavy with their baby for the rest of my life.

I don't know how much time passed, them using my pliant body like a cocksleeve. They were mostly true about being gentle, aside from the bruising on my hips where they held me down. They came against my waiting cervix at least once, but it all ran together for me. After cumming inside me, they gently rubbed my stomach over my womb, scratching the trail of dark hair that sprouted over the year taking testosterone.

I wanted to cry, but they stayed inside me growing soft for a while, gently fondling me or kissing my body. Eventually, I blacked out entirely.

The next morning I couldn't pretend it was a dream- I was left tangled up in my clothes, though a blanket from my room was draped over me and my TV turned off. My cunt was sore and I had the world's worst hangover. I stumbled to the shower and tried not to throw up.

I didn't want to be alone, so after my chickens were fed I went down to the friends house who helped me home that night. He had been so kind, and we'd started getting close. He had even dismissed a mutual friend making a joke about taking advantage of me the night he helped me home- he'd just helped me to my bed and left. I could trust him.

He knew something was off the moment he saw me, and ushered me inside. He got me water from his fridge, and sat down with me to let me talk.

I told him everything. First about the rape that night, then elaborating to the stalker in tears. He looked horrified, and let me sob in his arms. He was so kind to me, so good to me. I told him I didn't want to be alone. He offered to move in with me for a little while, to make sure nothing else happened. I agreed immediately, and he started packing up his things right that second.

His time spent moved in was nice. I got up early for my chickens and garden, but somehow he was always up earlier, making me coffee and breakfast. Some days he even watered my plants for me, just to be kind. He was sweet, always there to support me. He slept on the couch with no complaints, and even held me close when a noise outside had me convinced the stalker was going to break down the now locked door and rape me again.

The admirers notes slowed. They first were promises of coming back again, to see my "beautiful fertile body" up close again. Then threats when my friend moved in. Then nothing. I thought the nightmare was over.

I had chalked up the throwing up to a traumatic response and the drugs working their way out of my system. When it continued I didn't think much of it. Attributed the weight gain to my friend fussing over me and making sure I ate well. But the slightly round look of my stomach unsettled me, so I bit the bullet and took a pregnancy test.

Positive.

I was in hysterics when I saw the lines, and my friend ran into the room asking if I was hurt. I just shook my head and showed him the test, and he took me into his arms. We both know by this point it was too late to abort in the state this town was in, and travel costs put it out of the question if I could go out of state to have it done.

My friend assured me that it would be alright. That he'd help me through this. That he'd even help me raise the baby if I didn't want to be a single father.

Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones, maybe it was the kindness he'd shown me this past month or two. Maybe it was the way he looked up at me, having knelt down in front of me to make his promise of support. But I kissed him. I had fallen in love with this man, who'd taken care of me in my time of greatest need. And with the way he kissed me back, he'd fallen for me too.

It was like a switch was flipped, like he had been holding back this entire time. I invited him into my bed, and every night his hands were on me. I loved the way he felt, so happy to have someone else touch me after what happened. Every touch was adoring and reverent, he made me feel like a prince. Id beg him to cum deep inside me and breed me, and he'd get a look in his eyes when he pounded my cunt. It helped me pretend it was his baby growing inside me, especially when he'd put his hand on my growing stomach protectively.

Our relationship moved quickly. We were dating for only three months when he proposed to me, but it felt like three years. Gladly I accepted, and it took only two months to set up the wedding. He handled everything, insistent I just relax because he didn't want to stress out the baby. I was heavily pregnant at our wedding, and I heard a few murmurs about it being a shotgun wedding. I let them gossip- I hadn't told anyone about my attack, and I didn't care if they thought we were just getting married because I got knocked up. My husband and I knew the truth.

Those final few months were hard, but my wonderful husband took such good care of me. Doted on me hand and foot, took care of the chickens entirely, and with winter setting in soon I didn't need to tend the garden at all. This loving wonderful man cared for me through every stage of this unwanted pregnancy and turned it into the start of a beautiful life. It was like a scene out of a romance novel.

My labor was hard, but he was there through it all. Fussing over me and ensuring I got the best care. It hurts beyond words, the baby huge and heavy, but I managed. A sweet baby girl.

He was overjoyed. The next two months spent in a sleepy newborn haze, of course. But he was always there, at my side. He cooked dinner, kept the house tidy, watched the baby as I tended the chickens, our main income aside from a few residuals from some old novel he wrote years ago. He didn't even ask for sex, knowing I was healing, even if I wanted to regardless of doctors orders. But we waited.

The anniversary of the attack came and went, and he held me through my sobs. Reminded me that even if the experience was horrible, we had our beautiful daughter, and our beautiful relationship, because of it. And he was right. I was able to leave it behind.

As time wore on, he continued to be an amazing husband. Attentive in daily life, wonderful to our child, and absolutely fantastic in bed.

Nights spent after the baby was sleeping entwined in each other. His cock buried to the hilt in my needy cunt, his mouth on my heavy milky tits. Some nights, id let him take Polaroid photos of me impaled on his cock, or sucking him off, or stroking my tdick as his cum leaked out of me. I never saw where he kept them, but the idea that my body was so important to him he kept photos around made me feel good and loved. I never needed to ask with him, he somehow always knew what I needed, and I was often marked with hickies along my body from him. He said he was claiming every part of me.

A few months into summer, I felt off again. This time I didn't wait, and took a pregnancy test right away. Positive again. We weren't trying explicitly, but we weren't preventing it either, especially not with how I begged him to breed me every night. I told him, and he was overjoyed. I felt like I was in a fairy tale.

We decided to turn his old stuff into a playroom, since the nursery itself was small. I set to work on it in the mornings, while he was making breakfast. It was a lot to take down and move, so it took a while. While emptying his desk to have him move it to storage, I found a little cardboard box. Curious, I opened it up.

At first I thought it was the dirty photos he had taken of me. The idea of him alone in his study, fucking his hand to these photos when working late on a new story made me shiver. But then, under those photos were more. Candid shots of me out with friends, even before the baby. I hadn't gotten out much after the baby came, not like I went much of anywhere after the attack. These photos were old.

Then, the ones from my home. In through the windows while I was changing. My shirtless working in my garden. Me reaching for a gift wrapped bottle of wine.

With shaking hands, I set the box down. My husband, unbeknownst to me, had come up behind me. He wrapped his arms tightly around me, in a way hours ago I would find protective but now felt like a vice grip.

"What's the matter, love?" He asked, as he placed a hand over my womb, once again full of his child. "I told you we were meant to be. That you would look beautiful heavy with my baby for the rest of your life. I know you think so too. Why else would you beg me to breed that fertile, beautiful body of yours again? Just as I said before. If it weren't for that night, we wouldn't have our daughter, or our marriage. I just wish I'd done it sooner."

[lilacgaby]

˗ˏˋ🧸 bows and bottles ౨ৎ

pairing: girldad!megumi x wife!reader

summary: megumi had been shocked by you multiple times this year. finding out you were pregnant? a shocker. with a girl though? even more shocking. good thing he was a natural.

tags: pet names, pregnancy, afab!reader, domestic au, marriage, insecurities, fluff

(a/n: another lovely ask by @lexiene !! i think every jjk character is a girldad personally )

those two lines you showed to him changed the course of his life.

he was nervous sure, but you being there always calmed him down. he examined the rest of the items you'd placed in the gift box one by one, noting the gender-neutral clothing.

"you don't know the gender yet?"

"no silly! i'm only like.. a month. i think i have to be eighteen weeks or something to know."

"oh, okay."

"are you hoping for a gender?" you asked, moving your legs to face him on the couch.

"no, as long as they're healthy." he answered honestly, though the thought of having a girl did make him feel a bit nervous.

"hm, okay."

the weeks working up to the appointment you'd made were nerve wracking for megumi. you'd only been suffering mild symptoms of nausea and fatigue, so he'd been at your hand and feet most days.

the months had passed and your bump had grew. he'd been an angel for you, never letting you complain for more than a couple seconds. he'd wake up in the middle of the night and cook for you if you needed, he just wanted you and his kid to be safe.

as he drove to the appointment, reality set into him. you were having his baby, and they were going to find out the gender right now.

but an idea struck you in the car. "hey, how about we have them keep it a secret? we can have a fun little gender reveal party."

he physically slumped at the idea, relaxing a bit. "yeah, sounds good. but a small party, gojo is way too much of a lightweight for a huge one like last time."

you laughed at the memory, looking out the window as you held megumi's hand close to your thigh.

the visit at the doctor's was quick, they put the results of the ultrasound into an envelope for you two, and let you take home dozens of copies of the scans.

you went home content, smiling brightly as you looked over the pictures.

"they have your nose." you said out of the blue.

"you can't even tell that, it's a scan."

"yes i can."

"whatever you say."

the next week you had a small get together with some of your friends and megumi's. you wore a plain white dress since you didn't mind if it was a boy or a girl, and megumi wore a white button-up.

gojo wore a pink shirt, and argued with yuuji who was wearing a blue shirt.

nobara was carrying bags and bags of baby supplies, but was also wearing a pink shirt.

nanami was there holding a small gift box, he wore a white button-up with a pink tie.

they, along with some of your family, all held up confetti poppers. at the count of three they blew them up, pink confetti flying everywhere.

as gojo and nobara high fived each other, cheering at how they were right, you and megumi hugged eachother.

you now were able to go crazy, making everything really cute and pink for your little daughter. bows and bunnies scattered her nursery, pink flowers painted all over the walls.

cute rugs and rocking chairs, even her crib got a princess canopy.

nobara had gotten you the cutest little dresses and shoes, in the tiny box nanami had gotten for your baby girl it was little earrings. pure gold with a gemstone of her assumed birthmonth.

the months passed by really quickly, megumi kept his missions to a minimum so he could stay clung to your side.

he was a saint like always, holding your bump up for you to give you a few moments of relief, massaging parts of your body, he'd always be there for you.

but your little girl was stubborn and refused to come out. when he thought you were sleeping he'd speak to her, ask her nicely to come out tomorrow, speak about how excited he was to see her.

after a couple nights of that and morning walks? your water broke. he grabbed the overnight bag and made it to the driveway, only to realize..

he forgot you. oops.

picking up an annoyed you, he made it to the car and drove as fast as he could safely.

you delivered your baby safely, megumi thinking his wrist was going to snap from how hard you had it in your grip. he rolled his eyes though, because you were right.

she did have his nose. and his hair color, and his eyes. but she had your skin color, your lips, your eyebrows.

she was adorable.

she slept the whole day, not waking up unless she was woke up by you or him. she was an angel. barely ever crying.

he was relieved to find that she had your demeanor, your expressiveness that was more than just a straight demeanor most of the time.

he was the happiest when he looked into her and saw you, features of you that worked so harmoniously with his.

she was perfect.

she definitely had a favorite. spoiler alert: it wasn't you.

she always giggled when megumi was around, her first word was papa, much to your dismay. she clung to him all day, he was a natural at everything after all.

whenever he'd go on missions she'd cry, him having to call you just so she could fall asleep.

when she became a toddler? she'd run to the door to greet him everytime he'd come back. staying up past her bedtime just to see him.

but always passing out in his arms, wanting to stay by his side as she slept.

he'd do her hair once it was long enough. she begged and begged for him to learn how to braid, and after much consultation he learned.

he was there with her when she got her ears pierced, holding her hand as the needle went through her ear. it didn't hurt, but the numbing sensation felt weird. she wore the golden earrings she was gifted 5 years ago with pride, almost convincing megumi to get his ears pierced too.

almost.

she had him wrapped around her finger, doing anything she wanted whenever. if she wanted a toy she had it the next day. she wanted to go somewhere? let's start planning a family trip.

he taught her how to read patiently, grabbing any number of baby books to help her piece together the words, clapping together when she read a page successfully.

they shared a sweet tooth, so most of time he'd 'sneak' her snacks. candy, lollipops, chocolate, cupcakes, they'd share them together and laugh because they thought you didn't notice.

they were like two peas in a pod, they acted exactly the same sometimes. shed repeat his sentences, the way he walked, and even his facial expressions.

she clung to you just as much though, don't get it confused. she loved your attention on her as much as he did, scrunching her face when you two kissed in front of her. her using her body to push you away and 'reprimand' megumi.

he loved his girls so much, he didn't think life could get any better than being sandwiched in between the two of you while you watched random movies in the living room.

but it magically did, when for his birthday he was gifted baby socks. "are you joking?" he said, hugging you both tightly.

"those are too small for him!"

"they aren't for him sweetheart."

with another baby girl on the way, and his two treasured ladies right beside him, he definitely thinks he was born for this.

to stand by all of your sides, forever.

[satorusugurugurl]

Buzzed

Summary: Your boyfriend doesn’t drink. He’s a lightweight, never saw the appeal, and, well, it makes him horny.

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x FAB!Reader

Warnings: Whiny super whiny Gojo, handjob, public play, Gojo is just buzzed, not drunk consent is key, there are several reasons he doesn't like alcohol

Word Count: 2,307

A/N: this popped into my head at work. The need for Gojo to whimper and whine is intense.

Gojo didn't drink. He had nothing against people who liked to drink; by all means, to each their own. He never liked the taste; he was a lightweight, and he'd rather spend his money on sweets. There, however, was another reason he didn't drink. One that was far too embarrassing to mention.

Whenever Satoru would drink, he'd get horny, like super horny.

So, it was safer for him to avoid alcohol altogether, which was pretty easy. That was until you both went to one of your co-workers' birthday party. You casually conversed with some friends while Gojo headed into the kitchen. He was in search of cake, but he found punch instead. He filled his glass, tentatively giving it a sip.

It didn't taste like there was alcohol in it, so he drank a full red solo cup. And he was working on his third in the living room when he felt like his blood was on fire. The room was hot, sweltering, and you, god, you looked even hotter. The tight-fitted shirt you wore emphasized the curves of your perfect body and breasts. Your ass looked amazing in your jeans, and your smile was to die for. God, why did you look like a goddess tonight?

There was a certain glow about you that drew him in like a moth to a light. He hummed, resting his chin on your shoulder, his body pressed firmly against your backside. Not only did you look good, but you smelt fucking delectable.

You turned your head, kissing his cheek before turning back to your friends, joining in with their conversation, leaning back into Satoru when you both felt it. The huge and very hard bulge in his pants had you choking on your words as Satoru straightened, glancing at you in sheer panic.

“Toru?” He grimaced at the tone of your voice. “Please tell me that's your phone.”

“It’s not,” he confirmed your fear.

“Can you get outside to the balcony?” A glance over his shoulder confirmed no one was remotely close to his sanctuary.

“Yeah.” His voice was so gravely as his cock twitched in his pants.

“Good, go on. I'll be out in a sec.”

The second Gojo stepped into the cool night air, he groaned, looking down at his pants. What the fuck? Why was he sporting the world's biggest boner of all time? Fuck, he was so hard it hurt. He slowly sank into the dark corner, resting his back against the window where the curtain was still drawn, waiting for you to join him.

A second later, the sliding glass door opened and shut. Gojo’s hands flew towards his crotch, shielding his erection from any prying eyes. When he saw you turn the corner, he released the breath he'd been holding, dropping his hands to his sides. Satoru shut his eyes tight, biting back a pained whine. All you could do was knit your eyebrows together as you watched.

“Satoru? Are you okay? What’s going on?”

“Nngh, fuck, I don't know.” His cock throbbed hard at the sound of your voice. “I'm so goddamn hard.”

“Aren't you always hard?” The teasing tone in your voice attempted to lighten the mood.

“Yes, but your point is irrelevant. Fuck, I don’t know what happened. I only get surprise boners like this when I drink!”

Satoru was panting as you tilted your head slightly to the side. “But you did. Mina’s punch has a fuck-ton of alcohol in it.” Your boyfriend's face was contorted in pained pleasure and confusion. “People can’t taste the alcohol because of the liter of Lemon-Lime soda and the whole ass pint of sherbet.”

“Fucking fantastic,” Glancing back down at his erection, he sighed in frustration. “I-It’s going to be awhile for this bitch to go down. I’ll stay out here; you go inside and enjoy the party.”

Right now, in this embarrassing moment, Satoru could barely look at you. During the entirety of your relations, Gojo never drank, leaving that up to you if you were in the mood. You understood he particularly wasn’t too keen on drinking; it was his personal preference. Seeing him now, sulking in a corner, chest heaving, cheeks flushed, cock throbbing. It made a little more sense.

Laughter and loud music blared inside the apartment, drawing your attention to the door. Mina’s special punch was getting to everyone, it seemed like. They were so immersed in their current conversations and food would they even notice your absence?

Satoru was in physical pain. His teeth were clenched as he hissed out in frustration. You took notice of his hands, how they twitched, drawing closer to his crotch before pulling away. The man was fighting against every instinct in his buzzed horny brain. You could tell by his expression that he wanted to do nothing more than stroke his fat cock until he came all over his fist. Satoru, however, was also one not to let his lust overtake him.

He wasn’t some horny freak that would pull his dick out and stroke it until he jizzed all over your friend's balcony railing. You, however, weren’t as collected as he was. Seeing your boyfriend's cock twitching in his pants, the tiny wet spot forming over his leaking tip, made you fucking feral.

“I don’t want to go back.” Closing the distance between you, Gojo watched with bated breath as your pretty hands unbuttoned his pants.

“Tsk!” Your boyfriend hissed, crystal blue eyes darting towards the door. “Y-Y/N, what if someone comes out?!”

“I guess you’ll need to stay quiet. That way, if someone does come.” You whispered, your fingers slowly tugging his zipped down. “Can you do that for me?”

Satoru didn’t have time to think of a response because his dick did all the talking for him. It throbbed hard in the confines of his boxers. He whined and watched more pre-cum seep through the fabric of his boxers.

You cooed, running the bed of your thumb over the growing wet spot. “I’ll take that as a yes?” A nod and a tiny whimper was all you needed.

Slowly, you slid your hand down the band of his boxers, immediately coming into contact with his hot cock. His velvety shaft twitched as you tugged his boxers down just enough to free his erection. The tip was a furiously red shade; his slit dribbled pre-cum. Seeing his fat cock this hard has your cunt clenching around nothing.

“Ahh, fuck, fuuuck,” Satoru whispered through a hiss as you wrapped your fingers around his shaft. You slowly stroked your hands up and down. Squeezing it, trying to mimic how your pussy would pulsate around him when he would fuck you. “Y-Y/N~”

Using his pre-cum as lube, you smeared it up and down his length. Watching the pretty tip twitch madly each time you collected your makeshift lubricant. Satoru groaned, eyes half-lidded, watching you, the way you shifted, pressing your thighs together, how you took your bottom lip between your teeth, biting down on it, as you jerked him off.

“I-I’m, haaa, I’m the one g-getting jerked off here. B-But you, holy fuck!” He clamped his hand over his mouth, stifling a moan. Your teasing jerks, changed, your wrist twisting with every move. “Nnngh, f-fuck but y-yo—ooooh shit, you're the one e-enjoying yourself.”

“Of course, I’m enjoying myself. Satoru, I love feeling your dick get hard in my hand. It's so fat, hot, god, it makes me wet.”

Satoru flushed, head tilting back, the veins in his neck straining as he clenched his jaw. He was the one that would normally talk to you like this. Having it turned the other way around, he had his head spinning. The dizziness was so intense your boyfriend tilted his head back before he began thrusting into your tight-fitted fist.

“Fuuck, Haa, ooh fuck sweetheart, feels so good.” you bit back a moan of your own, watching as he ducked your hands, stinks of pre-cum running over your fingers, as he slammed the palm of his Hans against the railing. “D-Dont stop baby~ fuck Y-Y/N don't fuckin’ stop.”

Watching him desperately fuck your hand was so fucking pretty. From the thin sheen of sweat on his beautiful face to the throbbing shaft in your hand, everything about Gojo had panties soaked. Right now, you wanted to drag him out of the cramped apartment and back to your place where you would fuck his brains out.

But getting him through the apartment right now was out of the question.to get what you wanted, you had to get him off first! The faster he came, the faster you'd get to have him inside of you.

“You're doing such a good job, Toru~” Your hand moved faster. “I love feeling your cock sliding into my hand. But I love it so much more when you’re sliding into me, stretching me with your cock.”

Satoru was a hundred present, certain you were responsible for his hot blood and the hazy gaze that lingered over his eyes. You were the source of his buzz, and it had him jerking like a virgin into your first. You tried matching his thrusts with your hand. The whines that left his mouth were all the confirmation you needed to know that it felt good.

“F-Feels so good.” Satoru cried out, head dipping down to watch you jerk him off. “Holy fuck, your hand feels so good.”

“Mmhm~ just think about how good my pussy will feel when I get you home.” A grunt sounded from him. “Yeah~ you like knowing that you’re going to fuck me when we get home~? You going to reward me for helping you~?”

“Y-Yes, p-please don’t stop Y/N, I can feel it coming. God, I’m going to cum so hard.”

Hearing the pleasure that paved his voice had you pressing your thighs together. “Yeah~ are you going to cum~? Do it; I want you to cum, baby~ I want you to feel so good~ Like the good you are.”

“Y/N?” Gojo jerked, his head searching for the source of your voice. “Hey, is Gojo okay?”

Without missing a beat, you pulled Satoru down with your free hand. Your hand pushed the back of his head into the crook of your neck. Gojo didn’t know what you were doing at first, but as your hand left to join the other stroking his throbbing cock, he picked up on what to do. He whimpered and moaned softly into the crook of your neck.

“Oh yeah, he’s just a bit buzzed right now.” You stroked him harder, squeezing his shaft. “He doesn’t like drinking and thought the punch was safe.”

Satoru’s arms wrapped around you, fingers digging into the fabric of your shirt. His breathing whines were hot against your skin as his balls started to clench. He was so close to cumming, his eyes shutting tight, losing himself in the cooling sensation in his abdomen. So close, he was so close.

“Aww, poor guy, did you need anything?”

Gojo needed whoever the fuck this was to get out of here. He whined out your name into your neck. Hot breath having you shifting.”Y//N c-close.” He whispered as softly as he could as you jerked him faster, both hands working in tandem.

“Nope! We’ll be back inside in a second; I gotta get him home.”

“Okay!”

You waited until the door shut when you moaned with him. “Good boy, good boy~” his fingers dug into your back. “Go on, Toru~ cum for me~ give me it all.”

Satoru cried out into your neck in a nearly silent cry. “Y-/N oooh~ god fuck~ holy fuckin’ shit! C-Cummin’ I-I’m cumming.” You suddenly understood why he loved you, scratching up his back when you came around his cock. It felt good, so good, as he spurted thick ropes of cum all over your hand. “Nnngh oh fuck~! Fuck! Fuck!” His whines were shaky and nearly breathless as his cock weakly twitched in your hand. “Y-Y/NN~”

Gently you let go of his softening cock, bring your cum coated hand to your mouth. Satoru watched you closely, his chest heaving as he slowly came down from his high. He had half expectantly thought you were going to wipe his cup off on the inside of his jacket. What he hadn’t been anticipating was for you to flatten your tongue and lick it off. His sensitive cock twitched back to life at the lewd sight.

“Mmm~” You hummed in delight as if you just finished a meal. “So sweet and salty, Satoru~ I wanna taste it first hand when we get home.”

A switch flipped in Satoru’s head, be it post-nut clarity. He grabbed you by the face, turning you so you were pressed against the sliding glass door. The sudden flip had your breath catching in your throat as your boyfriend bent down, pressing his forehead against yours.

“The only one who is doing any sort of tasting when we get home will be me. If you don’t get us out of here fast, I’ll be sampling that soaking cunt right here.”

You didn’t need to be told twice; you dragged Satoru out of the party, shouting out brash goodbyes. Satoru might be buzzed from the punch. But you were buzzed off of him, and you needed to turn that buzz into a love-drunken affair.

[str4wb3rrysw3etheart]

Do you think you could write hcs of the boys at prom? 🥹 (post comic book store fire, since in the lore they didn’t go the first time)

OFCC!!!

Sfw ♡

Cw: suggestive in Petes and bills, bill needs to be pegged/j, usage of slut, Josh has a binge ed

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Bill

♡Did not want to go.. his mom barely let him go, but decided he needed to hang out with someone ..

♡He stands with you in the corner at the food table, eating the occasional snack, and complaining that his tie was too tight (his mom made him dress up)

♡If you try to dance with him, he will blush from embarrassment and refuse, saying that it's dumb.. just make him he's pathetic (I love him)

♡Try to kiss him? Hes bright red. He chewed four packs of gum and brushed his teeth for 30 minutes to prepare for this, but still..

♡He stares.. a lot, he finds you so domestic in a dress, and he feels manly. He yaps about how good of a house wife you'd be..

♡He sulks in the corner if you go off to talk to someone else.. you're litterally his only friend there.

♡Will ask to go to the bathroom (to get lucky..) multiple times. Unless you say yes he gets whiner and whiner each time

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Pete

♡Finds the whole thing stupid, but goes, he doesn't wanna upset the only women to EVER talk to him..

♡Dances with you, and tries to be romantic, but kinda sucks at it.. just making sexual (and slightly objectifying ..) remarks

♡Doesn't dress up at all. He's wearing his normal clothes..

♡Refuses to let you go off with your friends, following you around, not really interested in your friends in the slightest.. what good are they anyway?

♡Tries to ... well.. get lucky with you at the end of the dance (if you want more details thats another fic)

♡If you kiss him he's just a bit too into it.. he sucks at it though.. (teaching Pete how to kiss fic coming up??/hj)

calls you horrendous petnames the whole time (women , sugar, slut)

♡Lowkey he makes you leave early and watches a movie with you instead, complaing that there were too many normies there..

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Josh

♡VERY nervous to go to prom.. he made his mom do his hair, spent two hours cleaning himself up, and practicing how to kiss and what to say in the mirror..

♡Forgets all that he practiced as he sees you, You're the prettiest thing he's ever seen..

♡Tends to eat a lot of food out of his nervousness, so best believe he is by that snack table..

♡When you try to dance with him, he sucks at it. Stepping on your feet and tripping the whole time.. he has clearly never done this before

♡When you kiss him, he doesn't reciprocate at first, freezing up, he eventually leans into it, I'll admit a bit messily, but he's okay at kissing

♡Nervous rambles the whole time, he can't shut up. Normally he goes silent from anxiety, but I guess if he can't give you a minute alone with your thoughts you won't decide to leave him because you can't think about it

♡Once he gets more comfortable, he sweats a bit less, still on edge, but trusts you.. happy to be there with someone he loves.

♡Definitely called you milady at least once. Wanting to cry from embarrassment when you laughed.

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Jerry

♡Actually went there mostly on his own accord , didn't take much convincing when you asked

♡He is still a bit awkward the whole time, but he tries to mask it, acting confident as if he didn't cry over his hair not looking right for you 20 minutes ago..

♡Is most familiar with dancing, he's been to plenty of weddings for family members he doesn't remember

♡When you kiss him, he kisses back almost immediately, but you can feel how sweaty his palms are

♡Actually makes an effort to seem.. normal? While there. Talking with your friends if you bring them over, and being respectful of you wanting space

♡Tries to drink the punch, and it ends up being spiked and is so wobbly is almost comical. He is a huge lightweight

♡Compliments your dress like 15 times, trying to cover up that's why he was staring, and not anything else... nooo...

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