#lovingly strokes his nose

[wiidoodles]

Wolfwood.........

[spaciebabie]

I love how you are in love with a rotting corpse but still say peepaw has no peeper rights

yeah you're damn right. that piece of shit can STAY neutered for being a jackass.

[rosenclaws]

waking up worst!Logan with some head

warnings: minors dni!! 18+ only, oral (m!receiving), throat fucking, dirty talk, fem!reader

a/n: i'm gonna be so fucking real with u guys I woke up horny and so this was born.

It’s not fair how handsome your boyfriend is. Waking up to his firm chest behind your back, his strong arms wrapped around your waist, and his rock hard dick slowly grinding against your ass.

Logan grumbles as you turn around in his arms. Still asleep as he moves to lay flat on his back. Your fingers rake gently along his bare chest and dipping below the covers. Your mouth waters as you lift the covers to see his morning wood in all its fucking glory.

He’s so sweet to you, so desperate to please. It’s time you return the favor. Crawling to the end of the bed you spit on his dick and start to stroke him. Running your thumb over the tip as he shudders. You smirk as you see his eyes flutter open as you kiss the prominent vein that runs down to the base.

“Morning handsome.” You purr as your hand starts to move faster. He props himself up on his elbows to get a better view.

“Good fucking morning to me.” He mumbles as he licks his lips. Logan groans as you dip your head down and lick from the base of his cock to the tip. Tracing a large vein with your tongue.

“Shit,” His head falls back into the pillows as you take the tip of his cock in your mouth. Spit dribbles down your chin as you try and take all of him. He’s big, fuck he’s big and thick and feels so fucking good.

“That’s it baby, you can take it.” It’s been too long since he’s hand someone pleasure him like this. Since anyone’s been willing to show him love like this. You whine as his hand grabs the back of your head, shoving you all the way down on his dick.

“Perfect fucking mouth.” He growls.

Your fingers dig into his thighs as you focus your breathing. Your nose rubbing against his coarse hair as he slowly thrusts into your mouth. You bob your head in time with his thrusts. Swirling your tongue messily, craving a taste of the man before you.

He pulls you off his dick, needing you off before he snapped which you didn't like one bit. You know he's desperate and you want him to break. To beg and take charge, take the pleasure that you're so willingly offering to him.

“Don’t give me that look.” He tuts as he grabs his cock in his hands. Giving it a few hard pumps.

"Please, don't hold back, need you so bad." You whine desperately.

Logan’s eyes grow dark at the filthy sight of you. Spit still connected to his dick, eyes watery with tears. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen you look this hot. He stands up and gently guides you to the floor. Grabbing your cheeks he squeezes until your lips pucker. He gently runs his cock along your lips.

"Feel how fucking hard you make me." He slowly lets go of your cheeks as he slides is back into your mouth.

"Don't know what you started," You relax your jaw as best you can, your eyes fluttering shut as you take all of him once again. Loving the heavy feeling of him on your tongue. He sighs as his thrusts get faster, harder. Pummeling your poor throat with the tip of his dick.

"Made just to suck my cock right baby? Yeah you fucking are." He shoves your head down as he comes hard in your mouth. You greedily swallow everything he gives you, not wanting to waste a drop. He relents his hold on you only a little, letting you catch your breath for a moment.

"Fuck you're too good to me, so sweet." He lovingly scratches the back of your head. He helps you stand up and lays you on the bed. His lips peppering kisses along your shoulder as his hips grind into your thigh.

"Logan.." You whine as he crawls lower and lower. His shoulder muscles flex as he kneels onto floor. A devious look in his eyes as he spreads your legs.

"You had your breakfast, now let me have mine."

[rainydayathogwarts]

Big, strong James Potter

Summary: James Potter is just a big softie with a praise kink and a girlfriend who feeds it, especially during sex. Warning: Smut, praise kink, use of 'good boy' 1.15k wc

To the general public of Hogwarts, James was a completely different person than who he was in private. Big, strong James Potter was not only a confident athlete but a jokester who was loved by many, constantly cracking jokes, but making sure people were always comfortable. He was observant, could tell when someone's mood was off - the mother of the friend group to his mates. However, the second he was in the safe space of the Gryffindor common room, whether any of his friends were around or not, he was crumbling into your arms, ready to accept any love and comfort you had to offer him.

It was common for the marauders to see you and James cuddled up, his arms around your waist, head snuggled in your chest while your arms wrapped around his back, a hand nestling in his hair. Quiet mumbles of 'I love you's and words of praise had the others cracking jokes, or looking away from the intimate moment depending on James's mood. Sometimes they didn't have to though, as you'd be dragged upstairs by your boyfriend, having said something he might have liked too much.

James's praise kink was never exactly a secret to you, especially since you constantly drowned him in compliments anyway. However, over time, you'd discovered that the more you praised him, the more needy he'd get in bed, his orgasm chasing him the second sweet words were uttered from your mouth. That's how you often ended up straddling his hips, pressing soft kisses all over his naked chest with him half hard underneath you, staring at you lovingly through the dirty glass of his spectacles. He didn't mean to get turned on, treasuring the loving moment as you whispered "You're so pretty Jamie." He couldn't help the slight bucking movement his hips made, or how the whimper you let out, your pussy throbbing, only made him harden underneath you.

You felt your cheeks heat up, a small smile etching onto your face. Digging your head in the crook of your boyfriend's neck, you continued pressing shy kisses there, hiding away from his intense stare. "You like it when I call you pretty?" You mumbled, both your hands stopping at James's biceps to squeeze lightly, soaking up the feeling of his muscles contracting under your grip. Curiously, you looked up at your boyfriend, question gone unanswered, your smile turning into a wide grin. James's entire face had gone a dark shade of pink, the bottom of his glasses fogging up from the heat radiating off his face.

"Who knew big, strong James Potter was such a sucker for a compliment from his girlfriend?" Your hands moved from his arms, trailing up to meet the soft skin of his chest. "Or does everyone have this effect on you Jamie?" You pushed, watching as he quickly shook his head, glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose. "No- no, just you baby." He insisted, watching as you readjusted the glasses on his nose. "Good boy." You whispered proudly, putting more pressure down on your boyfriend's hips. A loud whine escaped James's lips, his hips bucking up into yours, large hands significantly tightening on your hips. "Please." He begged quietly, fingers playing with the hem of your skirt.

Obediently, you moved off your boyfriend to kick your skirt and panties down your legs before mounting him again, helping him pull his previously unbuttoned trousers down his legs. James patiently waited for you to tug his boxers down, hands fidgeting by his sides as you shuffled forward, taking his sensitive cock in your hands. You stroked him gently, whispering "You okay?" James nodded quickly, but you shook your head. "Words baby." "Yes! Please, please y/n put it in." His begging turned into a loud moan as you sunk down on his cock, furrowing your eyebrows slightly at the lack of preparation for his thick girth. You bounced lightly, getting yourself accustomed to James's size before you begin dragging yourself up his cock, then dropping your weight back on him.

Both your moans were loud, James's hands sure to leave marks from where they grip your hips. Yours were occupied in his hair, tugging gently at his curls, chest pressed up against his. Shutting your eyes tightly, you dug your head into the crook of his neck again as James pressed kisses wherever he could reach on your jaw. His hands trailed down to your ass, helping your languid movements. The veins in his forearms became more prominent as he helped support your weight, your movements slowing the more pleasure you got. "Fuck, you're so strong Jamie." You moaned, dragging your head back up as your boyfriend started thrusting his hips up into you to match your movements, encouraged by your words. "Knew those gorgeous muscles weren't just for show."

Moaning loudly, James threw his head back, thrusting deeply into you and pulling your hips down against his tightly. Leaning down, you sucked on his exposed neck, teeth grazing against the sweaty skin as James's hips uncontrollably twitched, his warm load shooting up into you. Panting loudly, James began thrusting up into you again, fingers finding your clit to put pressure on, causing you to whine against the skin of his neck. "I didn't-didn't mean to cum." James breathed out, trying to make it up to you. "Fuck, it's okay Jamie. Still my, still my good boy." You replied with a moan as he thrusted particularly deeply, repeatedly hitting that spongy spot inside you. Your mind went blank and for a moment you could only see white as you screamed James's name, painted nails digging into his hot skin as you arched your back, chest pushing itself in his face.

James took the chance, leaning down to catch a nipple in his mouth and running his tongue over it as you came down from your orgasm. You slumped against James, tugging his hair for him to look up before locking your lips with his in a messy, tongue-filled kiss. Your hands cupped his jaw as he wrapped his arms around your waist, rolling over with you in his arms so he ended up on top of you. He pulled away from the kiss, saliva connecting your lips, and you grinned at the image above you. A red-faced James was hanging over you, his glasses barely holding onto his ears, swinging inches away from his face. His chest was heaving with every breath he took, and the chain he wore around his neck with your initial was dangling down his neck, grazing your chest.

"Call me that again." He begged, slumping down to put all his weight on you. You giggled breathlessly, hugging your boyfriend closer to you. "What, Jamie or good boy?" The groan at the sound of 'good boy' told you all you needed to know, but you have to say the feeling of his dick getting harder whilst inside you was the real telltale.

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (48/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: Time to say goodbye.

Warnings: 18+ (fingering, boob sucking, slight anal play, mentions of sex), fluffy fluff

Word Count: 3.4k

series masterlist

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A/N: thank you all for your patience and kind words. I don't know what I'd do without you. I promise I'll be better in the future. I love you. feedback is appreciated.

The first thing you feel is the warm embrace and warm hands brushing through your hair. Still half asleep, you feel the gentle pressure on your head, and Charles slowly and lovingly scratches your scalp as if he wants to wake you up gently. 

Your eyes open just a crack before you decide to close them again and take a deep breath. Charles' chest is against your back, the heat of his skin burning through the shirt you're wearing. His arm is wrapped tightly around your middle and he's lying so close to you, with his head on your pillow and your legs entwined, that you don't know where your body ends and his begins. 

His touch is so familiar, so gentle and reassuring that you would almost fall asleep again if he didn't whisper in your ear.

“Good morning,” he breathes into your shoulder, his lips brushing your naked skin. His hand, which is not running through your hair, slowly slides under your shirt to press you even closer to him. ”How did you sleep, mon amour?”

You take a deep breath and snuggle closer to him. “Not long enough,” you reply in a sleepy voice. Tired, you stretch your head in his direction so that he can continue to massage your scalp. “Have you been awake for long?”

He shakes his head slightly. “Not too long,” he replies, weaving his fingers through your hair. “But long enough to enjoy your company before I have to get up and pack my bags.” He presses his nose against your cheek before gently kissing your temple. 

You smile sleepily. “How about you? How did you sleep?”

Slowly, his hand moves up from your belly, his thumb gently stroking the curve of your breast, while his fingers linger on your ribs. “I dreamt of you,” he answers softly, his lips on your neck. He presses his hips against your ass so you can feel his erection. 

Oh, boy. 

Your pussy throbs as he nibs at the soft skin of your neck. You gasp silently, arching towards him. “And what exactly did you dream?” You reach out and grab his hair to press his face against you. 

His fingers on your ribs spread and move to your bare chest. “You and me. At training camp,” he begins to describe his dream, while his thumb and index finger gently roll your nipple. 

Slightly confused, you turn your head in his direction, your noses nudging each other. “At training camp? Please don't tell me we actually went through your training schedule there.

His green eyes sparkle in the morning light. His hand moves a little further and turns you completely around to face him, his fingers grasp the flesh of your thigh and pull it over his hip so that he can press his hard-on against your barely-clad heat. “Don't worry, mon amour,” he breathes. “We didn't follow my training schedule. But –”

“But what?” You put your hand on his cheek, the stubble pleasantly scratching the palm of your hand. You curl your leg a little tighter around his waist. 

A grin spreads across his beautiful face. “We were still physically active,” he admits, sliding his hand higher up your leg, under the hem of his boxer briefs, which you are wearing. Charles leans forward a bit and kisses the tip of your nose, your cheek, your neck. His teeth brush against your pulse and goosebumps spread across your body. 

Heat rises to your cheeks as his fingers trail over your ass, as if it were the most natural movement in the world. As if you had been a couple for ages. His touch is so familiar that you practically melt away. 

You can't even imagine what the next few days would be like without him. What you're supposed to do here without him, without your roommate. Without your best friend. Without the man you love. 

As his fingers slide between your thighs and he gently brushes his fingertips against your lips before gently rubbing your bundle of nerves, so making you whimper, the alarm on his cell phone goes off. Grumbling and annoyed, he pulls his hand out of your pants before licking his fingers briefly and rolling onto his back. He reaches back to turn off the alarm. Sighing, he grabs you and pulls you onto him. 

Surprised and aroused, you look down at him. “What –”

“I don't want to get up,” he complains, wrapping his arms around your back so that you couldn't get off him even if you wanted to. Which will never be the case in your life. Hell will freeze over before you voluntarily let go of Charles. ”Can't we just lie here and pretend the alarm never went off?”

Your head is on his neck, where you leave feather-light kisses on his warm skin. “That would be nice,” you agree with him and reach out to run your hand through his hair. 

Charles groans softly. “We can pretend, you know? I just don't go to training camp and we both spend the next few days together here, only leaving the bed when we have to, and we don't have to go without each other for a long, miserable time. And then we can go to Kika's New Year's party together instead of only seeing each other there.”

You giggle. “Sounds like a solid plan,” you reply quietly. “But I'm afraid that at some point you gave Andrea a key to this apartment and he would definitely be standing in front of our bed if you weren't standing downstairs on time with your things, dressed and ready to leave.”

His arms tighten around you. “Our bed?” He asks with a grin and raised eyebrows. 

The heat rises to your cheeks again. “Well, you said that you – that we –” You take a deep breath. “You said that we wouldn't sleep apart anymore. And so I thought –”

“I'm only messing with you,“ he smiles and kisses your forehead. ‘This is our bed. In our bedroom. In our apartment," he assures you and lets his fingers slide under your shirt again. Warm fingertips gently press into your spine, eliciting a soft sigh from you. You feel his hard and demanding bulge twitching against your stomach. “I'm sorry.”

“It's okay.“ You kiss his neck one last time before sitting up. His arms come off you and fall at his side, while your knees press into the mattress next to his hips as you sit up. ”Come on.” You reach for his hand and pull him into a sitting position as well. ”You have to get up.”

Immediately, his arms wrap around your torso again, pressing you against him and positioning you so that your legs can wrap around his hips. You sit straddling his lap and feel his boner against your pussy as his hands roam over your heated body again. 

“I don't want to get up,” he repeats as he leans forward and begins to nibble on your neck. As his lips reach your pulse and he gently sucks on your skin there, you involuntarily rub against him. 

“Charles,” you breathe, hands on his naked shoulders, fingernails digging into his back as he begins rocking you back and forth. ”You have to.”

His fingers grasp the hem of your shirt and without thinking, you raise your arms so that he can pull it over your head. “Says who?” he asks, raising his eyebrow as he throws the garment on the floor. He pulls you close again, fingers sliding into your briefs and kneading your ass as his lips glide hotly across your front. 

Your fingers dig into his hair as his mouth closes around your nipple and he begins to suck. “Oh fuck,” you moan, pressing his face closer to you as you arch towards him. His hands slide deeper into your boxer shorts, digging into your flesh and spreading you a little further for him. “Charles.”

Your best friend lets go of your nipple, but only to suck a hickey into the soft skin next to it. “I know.” As the spot darkens, his mouth slides further and his lips close around your other tit, coaxing another gasp from your lips. His sucks hard, making your head reel and arousal pool in your boxer briefs. 

One of his hands slides lower, fingertips circling your clit before lazily rubbing. You twitch in his hold, your pussy still sensitive from the orgasms he gave you last night, but you couldn’t care less in this moment. You buck your hips into his hand as his fingers close around your nub, toying with it like they did with your nipple a few minutes ago. 

Sparks run through your veins, setting you on fire, burning you to ashes at his touch. 

„My girl“, he moans against your tit, tongue flicking against the bud before sucking again. When you twitch once more, legs trembling slightly, he moves his fingers away from your clit. 

„No, please“, you whine in protest, wanting him closer, wanting more. Wanting him. 

Charles looks up at you, pupils blown and the green almost vanished from his eyes. „Please what? You’re too sensitive, mon amour“, he teases you, fingers sliding further, collecting your juices. When you slightly wince at the overstimulation when he pushes his fingers inside, he kisses your tit, bevore gently biting your neck. „It’s okay. I know what you need.“

He keeps his fingers buried inside you, gently massaging your walls and rubbing against that sweet spot that has you seeing stars, while his other hand catches your slickness thats dribbling out of you. They move up, wedging themselves between your ass cheeks and carefully circling your other hole, wetting it slightly. 

Your brain short-circuits as you realize his intentions. Your head lulls against his shoulder, eyes closed as you huff out hot breaths against his skin. „Charles.“

„Tell me to stop and I will“, he whispers, his clothed erection rubbing against your clit. „I promise.“ 

You weakly shake your head. „Want you“, you whine, moving your hips back slightly against his hand, against his fingers. „Want all of you.“

„You have me“, he promises quietly, almost inaudibly. „You have all of me.“ 

You want to kill somebody when his alarm goes off again. 

With a defeated sigh Charles pulls his hands out of your briefs while you go and grab his phone, turning the alarm off once more. You reluctantly slide off his lap, annoyed that he actually has to get up and ready and pack his bags. 

He looks at you apologetically and kisses your cheek. „I’m sorry, mon amour. Next time“, he smiles slightly before getting up from the bed, sticking his hand in his boxers to squeeze his dick once like it’s normal for you to see that. He then grabs a few things and leaves your shared bedroom while you fall down back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. 

Since when have you been so open to sex that you don't even mind what almost happened? When you were with Raphael, you didn't even change in front of him – not even after you had been together for a while. And now you're lying here in the bed you share with your best friend, letting him touch you and even reaching out to him when he rubbed your  –

Sighing, you grab a pillow and press it to your face.

How pathetic do you want to be? A virgin who is in love with her best friend, who certainly doesn't feel the same way about you, but with whom you still share a bed and even allow him to touch you?

There's no way you would have let Raphael touch you like that. But Charles isn't Raphael, so you push your thoughts aside.

Being with Charles feels natural, as if you were made to be by his side. It's so easy, even though somewhere inside you still have this queasy feeling that if you let it continue, it won't end well.

But how could it not end well if it feels so good?

“What are you doing?” Charles asks when he returns to the bedroom. He grabs the pillow on your face and puts it aside. He smiles down at you. "You're not trying to suffocate yourself, are you? It's just a few days that you have to get along without me," he jokes, grinning, and takes three steps back as you throw the pillow in his direction.

“You're unbelievable, “ you say and roll your eyes, but you can't suppress your own smile. You watch him pack some sports clothes into a large bag. ”Do you really not have much time to talk to me on the phone?”

Charles, who is folding two T-shirts and putting them neatly in the side of the bag, apparently hears the disappointed tone in your voice, which is why he looks at you and tilts his head to the side. “I know it's not ideal. And I wish it was different,” he begins, sitting down on the edge of the bed. He gently strokes your hair. "I hate leaving you here alone. I hate that my work takes up so much of my free time." He takes a deep breath. ”I hate that you're here waiting for me to come home.”

You take his hand and kiss the back of his hand before interlocking your fingers. The whole thing seems to be weighing on him, which is why you have to be the strong one for both of you at this moment.

You smile at him. “Don't worry. I'll ask Kika if she has time for me over the next few days. After all, I still need a nice dress for New Year's Eve and she sent me a video on Instagram of a shop where you can paint ceramics. And a restaurant where you can have a drink while you're brunching,” you explain. ”I think Pierre is at training too. And then I can help her with the party preparations.”

Your words seem to calm him a little. He presses your hand against his chest. “If you go shopping, take my credit card with you. I don't want you to spend your money when I have so much of it that I don't know what to do with it. You can also go to Maman's. Or Enzo and Charlotte. Or you –” he suggests in quick succession.

You interrupt him. “I'll be fine. You don't need to worry about me,” you assure him with a smile. “And in a few days we'll see each other again and then we'll party like there's no tomorrow on New Year's Eve. What do you think?” You waggle your eyebrows a little, which makes him laugh.

He leans down to you so that your noses touch. “What did I do to deserve you?” He asks quietly and kisses your forehead before straightening up and standing up to pack the rest of his things. He squats on the floor in front of the closet, pulling out clothes that he either puts in his bag or puts back on the shelves.

Since you don't want to bother him, you quietly slip out of bed and get ready for the day, before you text Kika and ask if she would like to go dress shopping for her party today, to which she sends you a two-minute voice message telling you which websites she has already scoured and which stores you should both go to so that you definitely find the best dresses for you.

You are sitting at the kitchen counter, all ready and dressed, eating some fruit when Charles joins you. He reaches around you and grabs a piece of apple, which he slides into his mouth without saying a word, before walking around the kitchen island and making himself a cup of coffee.

“When is Andrea coming?“ you ask him, holding out another piece, which he gratefully accepts.

“He should be here any minute now,” he replies, leaning against the worktop in front of you. “By the way, I was serious when I said that you should take my card and buy yourself a nice dress for New Year's Eve.”

You sigh. “Charles, I – you know I don't feel comfortable accepting this.” Hesitantly, you take a bite of your pear.

“That's true, “ he admits and drinks the rest of his coffee before rinsing the cup in the sink. ”But you also know that I like to use my money to buy you nice things. And what better way to start the new year than with a new dress?”

With you. Naked in our bed. On top of me. Inside me. Telling me how much you love me. 

You swallow hard and immediately push the thought aside. “You better be careful, Charlie. If you keep spending so much money on me, people might think you're my sugar daddy,” you joke, but you can't miss the dark flicker in his eyes.

“Don't worry, mon amour,” he smiles, standing next to you, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear and examining the slight love bite he left on your neck. "You can have my money. I don't need it as long as I have you," he replies quietly and leans down to whisper in your ear. “If you wear a new dress on New Year's Eve but my bank balance hasn't changed by then, we'll spend a lot less time at Kika's party than you'd like,” he warns you. The kiss he gently presses on your temple is soft and loving, in contrast to his tone of voice.

Your breath catches in your throat.

When the doorbell rings, Charles moves away from you. With long strides, he goes to the front door and presses a button so that Andrea can use the elevator. Without saying a word, you follow him into the hallway, where several bags are already waiting to be loaded into a car.

“Good morning,” Andrea greets you both with a smile. He gives you a little kiss on both cheeks before grabbing two bags. "I'm really looking forward to the training camp. This time, I've picked out a few things that are just designed to drive you mad" he grins at the Monegasque, before looking at you. “And don't even think about texting or calling him. Not that your messages would get through somehow, but I think his brain can only focus on one thing at a time and as soon as he thinks of you, I can forget about training.”

“Andrea,” Charles warns his friend sharply, as if he had just revealed one of the biggest secrets in the world.

The trainer laughs. “Don't act like that. I know exactly what's going on here. I'm not blind,” he grins and leans forward to look at you. “Nice hickey, by the way,” he says nonchalantly, turning around and leaving the apartment the way he came in.

And leaving behind two best friends who don't know what to say about it.

Charles is the first to make a sound. He clears his throat. “Um, okay. I have to go, otherwise I'll get in trouble,” he explains and stands in front of you. Hesitantly, he raises his hands and places them on your cheeks to tilt your head back a bit so you can look at him. “I'll miss you.”

You can feel his warm breath on your face, he's that close to you. “I'll miss you too. Send me photos or something when you can. I don't know exactly when you can get on your phone, but when you can – I mean –”

“I promise I'll get in touch with you. Even if it means buying a second cell phone and hiding it from Andrea,” he smiles, stroking your cheekbones with his thumb. ”I don't know how I'll last without you. And especially for several days.”

You shrug helplessly. “I don't know either,” you reply. “But after that, nothing can separate us. Then you won't get rid of me,” you dare to say, your heart beating in your throat. You turn your head and kiss his palm lovingly. “Deal?”

He leans his forehead against yours. ”Deal.”

[emmyrosee]

Geto doesn’t know how to respond to pet names.

It took him a long enough time to become used to the traditional “baby” and “love,” it was just recently when you started busting out these absurd nicknames for whatever thing you could be subjecting him too.

You were cooking once, and you called him “scnhookums” and asked him to pass the peppers. He dropped the tray.

Driving, you told your “stinky man” to take a left. He slammed on his brakes.

You’d been painting his nails and got some on his cuticle, and you asked your “little poop” to pass you some acetone. He just took his hands away.

It’s not that he doesn’t… like them, they’re just not quite what he expects. They’re so extreme, so left field that in a way, he feels as if you’re mocking him, making fun of him.

He doesn’t like that feeling.

But what he hates even more, is when you pause on giving him disgustingly sweet pet names. This, makes him feel like you no longer care, no longer wanting to take the time to come up with the gushy names that keep him in a shy state.

And you haven’t given him one in days.

He hasn’t been able to sleep. Nothing major, nightmares plaguing the dreams he thinks should be pleasant, 

“Shhh,” you soothe. “Stay asleep. I’ve got you.”

He merely nods and lets his head bury back into the pillows, your lips press against his temple before he lets his breathing even out once again.

As if your kiss soothed the monsters that dance, he’s able to sleep a few more hours, waking up disgustingly late and pouting to find your side of the bed cold.

He’s not proud of the pout okay, you’re just really good at scratching the affectionate itch that digs his brain. all he wants is his ‘pooky bear’ to cuddle their little ‘chickadee’ and let him fall back asleep in their arms.

He’s sure those names aren’t far in your arsenal of names.

When he finally does come to search you out, he’s not completely surprised to see you, stretched out on the couch and in a state of relaxation he finds envy in.

“What’re you watching?” He asks, shuffling into the living room. You smile up at him and say nothing, but instead pat your lap as an invitation for him to come and curl against you.

With a nod, he does just that, letting himself lay down on the couch with you, his head nestled in your thighs. Your fingers instantly start their magic on carding his loose hair, and his eyes slack slightly at the tingly feeling.

“Feel better?” You ask, and he hums contently. “I told you more sleep would help. You just never listen to me.”

He says nothing, merely letting his fingers gently trace the lines on your kneecap.

There’s a whirl of silence in the room, and he feels his eyes grow tired from your loving touch, the post warmth of his shower, and the cat that’s curled on his feet, keeping them warm under her rhythmic breathing.

“My handsome man,” you mumble, bending down to plant a kiss at his temple. his eyes widen as he cranes his head up to look at you, curved in surprise and a glimmer of love in his dark pools. “So pretty it hurts… my handsome, pretty man.”

That. That, he could get used to.

He smiles dopily and turns his head to nuzzle into your thigh, trying to hide the heating of his cheeks from you and your potential teasing by keeping his face buried.

But you don’t pick on him. Instead, you click your tongue adoringly and press another kiss to his temple. He feels your nose taking deep breaths of his scent, and your thumb strokes his cheek lovingly.

“Shut up”, Suguru says happily, as an acceptance, letting his sleepy eyes close and allowing your affections to swallow him whole.

Yes, he thinks to himself. It’s the fluttery feeling everyone talks about. The air filling his lungs and his head skipping beats just by the tone of which you call him handsome.

You call him your man.

Maybe pet names don’t always have to be sticky and sweet; but it just makes the most meaningful ones penetrate his heart that much more.

And this pet name, he hopes you decide to keep.

[itsallyscorner]

And They Were Roommates | MV1

pairing: Max Verstappen x reader

summary: Max just wants to have some sexy time but you have adorable unwanted visitors in the bedroom.

warnings: none! Suggestive topics via Max. Possibly some spelling errors..

author’s note: I’ve been busy lately and have been struggling to write, so pls take this drabble/short fic as a peace offering☺️

It was a lazy day in Monaco.

The sun beamed through the curtains of your window in your shared bedroom. The covers enveloped your and Max’s bodies, your legs tangled together, and your back flush against his. His head was shoved into the crook of your neck, one arm underneath your neck, and the other snaked tightly around your waist.

As helpful the comforter was at protecting you from the AC that had been on all night, Max was the perfect human heater you could ever ask for. You didn’t have to worry about getting too cold at night because Max helped balance your body temperature with how warm he got. Throughout the night, his arms somehow stayed wrapped around you. His nose was often nuzzled against your neck, your hair, and sometimes your chest when he’s managed to become the little spoon overnight.

Just a few minutes ago, you had woken up to the scents of Max and fresh linen filling your senses. Something that always sent a warm feeling in the pits of your stomach, much similar to butterflies. The two scents mixed together meant your love was home after weeks of traveling and finally sleeping peacefully beside you—a feeling both you and Max took great pleasure in.

You tried to stretch as best as you could in Max’s hold, though your actions only caused the man beside you to squeeze you tighter. You reached behind your head to gently run your hand through his hair. A small groan, almost similar to a whine, emitted from your boyfriend.

His body tensed against yours as he attempted to stretch the sleep out of his bones, his head only burying further into the crook of your neck.

“Don’t get up yet, schatje.” He mumbled against your skin, his voice still rough. You hummed in response, bringing the hand he had around your waist to your lips and pressing a soft kiss on the back of his hand.

“I’m not planning on getting up anytime soon, Maxie.” You turn in his arms, finally facing him. He truly looked adorable in his current state. His hair was ruffled, sticking in a couple of different directions. His lips were in a slight pout and his eyes were puffy from sleep.

His eyes remained closed but his arms were quick to wrap tightly around you. You smiled seeing him so relaxed. Often after race weekends, especially the ones you were not able to attend, Max came home very clingy. He wanted to spend every waking moment with you, holding you at all times, and being in your company. You never had a problem with it, in fact, you found it extremely endearing. It was a side he saved for you and only you. He was your giant, cuddly, teddy bear.

You pressed light kisses against his face, causing the corner of his lips to rise in a smile. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes before looking down at you.

“Hi, schatje.” He greeted softly, crimson lips set in a sweet smile. You giggled at him, “Good morning, Maxie.”

You squealed as he suddenly forced his body on top of yours, pushing your back against the mattress. His sudden burst of energy nearly knocking the wind out of you.

“Oh my god, I missed this.” He mused, resting his body weight atop yours and shoving his face into your chest. He dug his face deeper, his nose basically between the crevices of your breasts.

“I missed you too, you goof.” You laughed, lovingly running your hands through his hair. Max reciprocated your actions by stroking your sides with his rough hands, pressing tiny kisses above your breasts and any other surface of your skin he could reach.

“Just wanna stay in bed all day.” Max said against your skin, talking between his kisses. “No paddle *kiss*, no driving on the sim *kiss*, no working out *kiss*, no work emails *kiss*, nothing!”

“We need food.” You interjected, quickly adding, “You also need to feed the cats.”

Max huffed, he’s managed to reach your stomach now. Resting his chin on the soft surface of your tummy, he looked up at you with his addicting blue eyes, shades of turquoise and grey bursting in them.

“Jimmy and Sassy can wait a few minutes longer.” He grumbled, one of his hand searching for yours. When he finds it, he places a kiss into your palm, and guides your hand to his hair. Taking the hint, you run your fingers through the strands again.

“I don’t think they’ll mind if I eat first.” Max’s voice dropped an octave, an underlying tone of arousal—in more simpler words—horniness.

He began to kiss on the exposed skin beneath your (his) lifted shirt, his thumbs stroking circles into your hips, as he drifted lower beneath the sheets. Your hand remained in his hair, pulling lightly at the strands. It was a habit of yours that he liked, but something he craved even more during intimate moments. Especially when you roughly tugged on it, encouraging him and his acts of love.

“Your cats are persistent.” You hummed, Max finally inching closer towards your lower region. You bit your finger in amusement, glancing at the two Bengals hanging out in their cat tower behind Max.

As much as you wanted to have sex with your boyfriend, you were not going to do the nasty while your shared cats stared at the both of you, waiting to be fed.

“I’m persistent too, schatje.” Max claimed, squeezing your bum with one of his hands. Still unaware at the two cats glaring daggers at him. You couldn’t help but let out a laugh.

“Not as much as Jimmy and Sassy, baby.” You shook your head, adjusting yourself to sit up. Max whined at you moving away from him. He was beginning to wonder why you were so concerned with the cats, especially while he was trying to go down on you.

“They’ll be fine, schat, I’ll even put some more food in their bowls for waiting.” He assured you, trying his best to keep the built up tension.

“Baby please I need you.” He crawled up your body until you were face to face. You placed a teasing kiss on his pouted lips before cradling his jaw, “Trust me Maxie, I need you too.”

You gently turned his face to look behind him, “But we are not fucking in front of the cats.”

You felt Max deflate against you, “Oh, for fucks sake!”

He groaned and dramatically threw himself on the mattress beside you. You bursted out laughing, very much killing the sexual tension.

You tried to pry off Max’s hands from covering his face, “Aww, it’s okay Maxie.”

You were still fighting off some giggles, not helping Max’s situation. Max refused to take his hands off his face. Only rushing to grab the decorative pillow beside him to cover his hard on.

“Baby.” You cooed. Max huffed in response.

“Maxie.” You sang, poking his side. He jolted, but smacked your hand away from his side, “No.”

“Maxie, I promise we can get some me and you time later.” You reassured him, stroking his stomach. He finally took his hands off his face, revealing a very flushed faced.

“I just wanted some morning sex.” He pouted. You chuckled at him and moved to kiss his cheek.

“Me too, baby. But we can’t always get what we want.” You teased him, patting his warm chest, and hopping out of bed. Max continued to pout, watching as you sauntered out the bedroom.

“I have the hottest girlfriend in the world and I still managed to get cockblocked under my own roof.” Max said to himself, staring at the ceiling.

He sat up, pillow still covering his boner.

Jimmy and Sassy remained in their cat tower, waiting for Max to get out of bed.

“You guys are the worse roommates ever.” Max announced, causing you to burst out laughing from the kitchen.

[lyneira]

♡ I'm home ♡

-> How the genshin men react when you say "i wanna go home" and you go to hug them saying, "I'm home now :)"

archetype imagine!

A really silly, random and specific prompt, but I just found it so sweet

Thinks you're so cute

Kaeya, Lyney, Heizou, Baizhu, Thoma

He would let out a warm laugh out of amusement at your action. 'What a cutie', he'd think as he would begin to stroke your head dearly with his charming smile plastered on his face. He would then lean his forehead against yours, your noses softly grazing each other's, and would gaze lovingly into your eyes. His eyes would hold you gently, shining with his uttermost affections for you. He appreciated that you viewed him that way. "You're mine as well, and I'll always be there when you need me"

Would be caught off guard

Albedo, Ororon, Kinich, Cyno, Tighnari, Alhaitham

He might be surprised from the sudden gesture as he isn't used to receiving such affection (nor having to deal with it). But he'd definitely hug you back, knowing how much you felt for him as he felt the same for you, even if he might show it differently.

"I hope you find it comfortable here", he'd say with a small, reassuring smile, leaving a chaste kiss to your forehead.

Grows a stronger sense of protectiveness over you

Wriothesley, Neuvillette, Zhongli, Childe, Ayato

He'd lightly chuckle at the gesture, but nonetheless, your sentiment would leave an impact on him. He understood just how vulnerable you allow yourself to be with him, how safe you felt with him, and that your words were simply another form of, "I love you". Of course, there was no doubt that he felt the same for you too.

If he was your home, you can bet your bottom he was gonna shield you from any possible danger, as well as take care of you with all his might. There would be no way he'd let any harm to come to you.

And he would vow this to you by wrapping his hand over your head, sliding his arm around your waist, and pulling you in close, so much that it felt like he was enveloping your entire frame into him. He'd then whisper tenderly into your ear, "As long as I'm here, nothing will hurt you"

-

Specifically, for guys like Childe and Ayato, this sentiment would be incredibly significant to them. I consider them family men, so for you to already think of him as something so important as home means everything to him. The moment you mentioned him with "home" his sense of responsibility and duty shot through the roof. He'd be beaming with pride with your sentiment, both happy and honored that you consider him something so dear and important. He would rub circles on your back as he would then think of the future, blissfully imagining how you two would build your own home together with the biggest smile on his face.

He's speechless

Wanderer, Kazuha, Xiao, Diluc, Dainsleif

They would have never thought they could feel so warm from such a small, seemingly silly gesture. All this time, looking for a place to belong to, he realized something - you were his home too. No words could describe all of his sentiments at once, but when he cups your cheeks and looks into your eyes, you'd be able to understand everything. That rare, vulnerable look in his eyes that was only reserved for you would tell you his innermost feelings he held deep in his heart. You are the most precious thing in all of Teyvat to him. Thus, he would convey this to you with an intense, passionate kiss.

You're too adorable, he can't-

Venti, KAVEH, Itto, Gorou

Good gosh they would think you're the SWEETEST. That's how much you meant to him? You think of him as you're home? He'd become so overwhelmed with love that he would give you the biggest, warmest embrace in return. I see Itto and Venti definitely spinning you around while squeezing the life out of you. You would have activated their cuteness aggression with this gesture. You may even be met with a flurry of sweet kisses all over your face as a way for them to release these feelings you've given them.

On the other hand, Kaveh would become the most emotional. It would hit him the hardest since he didn't quite have a home all for himself. He'd be getting teary eyed and his lip would be quivering, unable to hold back the emotion that is currently overwhelming him. He would return your embrace and bury his face into your shoulder, letting his tears flow freely into your warmth. You were his home as much as he was yours, and with his voice shaking, he'd bawl, "I love you so much, y/n...I'm glad to call you mine"

a/n: back from another hiatus, sorry for going MIA again 🙃

© 2023 lyneira. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, PLAGIARIZE, OR REPOST MY WRITING ONTO OTHER PLATFORMS

[luveline]

Hi lovely!

I saw you’re looking for Hotch requests and I think I requested one before but I forgot what it is oops.

Could I please have one where Jack calls R mom for the first time and she feels super guilty about it but Hotch is super sweet.

Thanks!

ty for requesting 💞 fem (mom and stepmom!) reader, 1.4k

You’re obsessed with your little baby, but you’d loved Hotch’s son for a long time before you had your own, and you’ve continued to love Jack as your own regardless. If anything, having a baby only cemented that you love him. 

Though you’d never disrespect his mother or what she gave up for him, you’re a parent to Jack. When Hotch is home, Jack is home, and when he isn’t you have Jack four days out of the week anyways, splitting him lovingly with his Aunt Jess. You take care of him and you love to do it; being his stepmother is a gift. You love Jack. 

And he loves to cuddle. 

“Rub my hair,” he demands sleepily, crushed as far into your neck and chest as he can be without pushing his brother out of the way. 

“Say please,” you say, already bringing your hand up where it’s sandwiched behind him to stroke the hair from his eyes. “Like this?” 

“Thank you.” 

He’s pretty much always polite when he’s not tired. Which has little to do with you and everything to do with Haley and Hotch, you’re sure, he’d been a picture of a golden child the day you met him and besides the occasional tantrum or naughty spell, he’s a grateful child. He says thank you for things you want no thanks for, when you towel dry his hair at night for bed, or when you help him into his socks. He once said thank you for a kiss on the cheek, as if it wasn’t something you’d wanted to do. 

“You’re welcome,” you say softly, brushing a stray strand of hair from his brow. “Can I have a little kiss?” 

You kiss his brow when he smiles, letting your eyes flutter closed, nose still pressed to his skin. 

“I love you, mommy,” he says, wrapping his arm around your neck with a sleepy snuffle. 

You struggle to answer. The baby gurgles against your chest.

There has been a lot of mommy talk lately. Hotch is calling you mommy often now that the baby’s born, cutesy stuff like, There’s mommy! when you come back from a shower, or How’s your mom? when he’s home from work and he wants to hold the baby, but he wants to check on you at the same time.

He’s never called you Jack’s mom, but Jack’s six. He was bound to get confused, or to feel new feelings, though you weren’t expecting him to do it right now. 

Eventually, you figure you’ll do what’s best for Jack even if that best isn’t something you deserve. “I love you too, baby.” 

“Are you falling to sleep?” he asks. 

You have arms full of children and Hotch will be home any minute if what he said on the phone is true, so you won’t. “Maybe not yet, but you can sleep if you want to. I’m sure dad will wake you up when he gets home.” 

Jack settles in with the baby. Your promise gives him the solace he needs to sleep.

…What if Hotch is angry? 

You’ll tell him what happened, of course, because you don’t have secrets with each other, and even if you did this is something he’s owed, right? He’s been completely candid with you about everything, how he loved Haley, how he feels he failed her in more ways than her death, and how he loves her still. 

You don’t feel like you’re competing for his loyalty or affection, it’s simply clear that he respects Haley’s memory very strongly. What if you tell him what Jack said, and what you hadn’t said, and he’s furious? 

The door opens downstairs. Hotch calls hello, but with Jack and the baby both sleeping, you stay quiet in fear of waking them. You listen to him do a familiar dance, the click of the safe where he retires his firearms, the rushing water of the faucet as he makes himself a glass of water, and then a second you assume to be for you. 

You shuffle Jack from your chest gently, pulling the baby into the curve of your arm and depositing him with an overabundance of caution into the crib. 

You hurry to the door, finger on your lips, startling your husband on the last stair. 

“I need to talk to you about something,” you whisper. 

He gestures for you to walk back down with him. He’s unperturbed by your worry, two glasses in one hand so he can use the other to feel at your shoulder as you take the stairs in front of him. “What happened?” he whispers. 

“It’s–” You wince, descending the stairs with a distinct sense of nausea. “Can we sit down? I’ll make you something to eat.” 

“I’m fine,” he says, following you to the kitchen, where you sit in adjacent chairs at the dinner table. 

You brace your hands on a placemat. 

He laughs and takes them into his own. “Nothing you tell me is worth all this worrying.” 

“It’s about Jack.” 

His smile fades. “What about him, honey?” 

“We were upstairs… You know how he is, he climbed on top of me and we were cuddling because Noah finally fell asleep, and,” —it’s best to just tell, even if you feel clammy and guilty before you’ve admitted to it— “he called me mommy. I’d never tell him to, I promise.” 

Hotch brings his hands up slowly, yours raising with them where he’s holding your wrists. “What did he say?” 

“He said he loved me. ‘I love you, mommy.’” 

“What did you say?” 

Your grimace is apologetic, eyebrows pinched. “I said I loved him too.” 

“And you’re worried that’s not okay?” You nod. “It sounds to me that he was just telling you how he feels. When you wake him up in the mornings and you tuck him in at night, and you’re the person he goes to when he needs a bandaid, you must feel like his mother.” 

“But I’m not.” 

“No.” His dark eyes are relaxed, his brow only a shade of its usual downturn. “Haley is his mother, and she’d love how you treat him. He will always, always know who his mother is. But if he wants to call you mom, a woman who loves him and looks after him with the same tenderness as you do your own, then I think that’s okay, especially with Noah getting older… How do you feel about it?” 

“I love him.” 

He does that silly smile where he’s more happy than he’ll admit to, leaning forward, pressing your hands to his arm and then his lips. “He loves you,” he says. 

Hotch stands and offers a hug. When you take it, he sways you from side to side. “She really would’ve liked you, honey. It was me who let her down.” 

“But her baby calling me mom…”

“I know. It’s a conflicting feeling.” 

You let out a big sigh and slouch in his arms. You’re warm butter under his touch. He reacts accordingly, bending and cupping the back of your neck. 

“It felt awesome,” you confess. He might as well know. After the remorse, you were happy. Jack must really love you. 

“You’re very, very good to him. Just let him love you however he wants to, and I’ll make sure he doesn’t forget who his mother was, and how much she loved him.” 

You wouldn’t let Jack forget her either. 

Hotch leans away to dot a kiss to your cheek before he hugs you again. “How are they? The boys?” 

“Sleeping. Waiting for you to come home and wake them up. Maybe please don’t wake up Noah, he might sleep through the night tonight if we leave him alone.” 

“I won’t. I’ll see him in the morning.” His smile is audible. “I’m a little jealous, I think. Jack hardly ever says he loves me first.” 

“You clearly don’t cuddle enough.” 

“That,” he says, giving your hip a squeeze, “is a low blow. But I’ll allow it.” 

“You’ll allow it?” 

Another adoring sweep of his arms on your back. “You can say what you want,” he amends. “Thank you for taking care of things while I was gone.” 

He doesn’t need to say thank you, you’re a family, but you appreciate the gesture. “You’re welcome, handsome.” 

[cosmicalily]

3:26pm with seo changbin - a @cosmicalily timestamp

author’s note: thank you all for waiting for this one! she's short, but very, very sweet :)

“You good?” Changbin asked, looking at you worriedly from the hallway. He was sweaty from the gym, his black tank top clinging to his chest and a little out of breath. Normally, you’d absolutely inhale him in this condition, hands all over him, pressing adoring kisses on his cheeks, lips and nose. 

Yet, you remained flat on the couch, as if he wasn’t even there. 

He couldn’t help but feel his ego deflate a little at your ignorance.

“Head hurts,” you groaned, hands covering your eyes.

Ah. Changbin knew this version of you well.

“I’m going to take this from you,” he said, pulling your phone out from under your back and setting it on the table. “Have you had any water? Any food?” He reached to pull your hands from your eyes, smiling at you comfortingly.

You pouted at his questions. “No,” you huffed. 

“And this headache just magically manifested itself, not because you’ve starved and dehydrated yourself this whole morning?”

“Yes,” you replied firmly, hands reaching up to squeeze his arms. Your fingers trailed down to his hands, which you interlinked with yours. He gently rubbed soft circles into your palm, kneeling beside the sofa.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he replied, letting go of one of your hands to stroke your forehead lovingly. “Does it hurt a lot?”

“Yeah. It’s a bit better now, though.”

“Because your favourite boy in the whole world just got home?”

“Shush. Can I lie down on your chest?”

Changbin chuckled. “Sure, once you’ve had a glass of water. You can lie on me while we decide what you’re gonna eat for a very late lunch, okay?”

“Okay.”

You pulled yourself off the couch, going to the kitchen and downing a glass of water as quickly as possible, motivated by the anticipation of a full body cuddle. When you returned, Changbin laid himself down on his back, then climbed on top of him. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and he wrapped his around your waist, kissing your forehead softly as you nestled into his skin.

“I’m sweaty, you don’t mind?”

“I like it.”

“Freak,” Changbin laughed. 

The two of you laid on the sofa, bodies tightly pressed against each other. He felt you snuffle a little against his neck, and soon enough, your breaths rose and fell gently. 

And oh, even if you’d entirely self-inflicted this state of irritation and pain, his heart only softened more at your vulnerability when you were like this. Something about how simple love was during moments like this, how all you wanted was him, even if your biological needs were far more complex.

It was sweet. In the same conditions, he was sure he’d pick you above anything else a thousand times.

taglist: @hyunjiiza @velvetmoonlght @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @btch8008s @yaniluvs @ellemir2404 @bellarellasstuff @starsinagreenskyxx @ashtxrie @pigeonseatmayo - comment, dm or send an ask to be added

[hitomisuzuya]

hi suzu! how are you!? hhow about spouse scara and reader smut, with scaramouche coming home after a long day of work; which had him really frustrated!! to get rid of his frustrations, they have a little fun in bed! if you want, you can add a bit of mean scara, and even some toys !! enjoy your day!!!!

- 🎧

husband ceo!scaramouche x fem!reader. smut cunnilingus. sex toy. degradation. creampie. mean!scara. aftercare at the end cause i don't write it enough.

you and anyone reading this, please have a wonderful day❤️

nothing had gone right for scaramouche at the office. absolutely nothing. right down to spilling his coffee on reports it took his idiot employees 45 minutes to redo because they didn't do them right the first time. today brought new meaning to if you want something done right, do it yourself.

your string of shameless moans as he ruthlessly wagged his tongue on your throbbing clit were music to his ears. if anyone asked him why he missed any emergency calls on his work phone, he could flat out say that he was between his pretty wife's thighs, pumping a vibrator in and out of your creamy cunt while he tongue fucked your clit.

finally, finally something was going right. he counted himself lucky he had a such precious treasure waiting at home for him with a warm, wet cunt to take his frustrations out on.

you writhed on the bed as vibrations hummed intensely along your sensitive walls, the relentless pace with which he bullied the toy into your spongy spot made you see stars. the throbbing in your swollen clit only grew more intense, your thighs trembling as your hips bucked into his mouth and the toy.

"stop squirming, slut or i'll tie your wrists above your head," scaramouche hissed in frustration to remind you of your place. he latched his lips around your clit, flicking his thumb over the button to turn the setting up on the vibrator.

it instantly stole the breath from your lungs. gasping in pleasure, you urgently tugged on his hair, pressing his mouth down onto your pussy. scaramouche vibrated a groan on your clit, sucking wetly as drool rolled down his chin, pooling between your folds.

"nobody should've questioned you today," you whimpered, shaking as he released your clit to kitten lick it, "you always know what's-" the vibrator burrowing into your sweet spot cut you off, pleasure burst white hot behind your eyes, "-what's best."

scaramouche moans huskily, brushing his nose across your clit as he flattened his tongue. "keep singing my praises, whore. it's making me harder," his thick cock is hard and leaking precum, straining to be sheathed inside your tight heat. but you just looked so fucking perfect submitting to him while he abused your hole with the vibrator.

you are so close to cumming, your orgasm snapping tighter with every thrust and lick. he groaned as your fingernails dug a little into his scalp. scaramouche could taste how close you are to cumming in the juices squelching out around the vibrator, your walls squeezing tight.

"tell me, wife," he purred, his cock pulsing from your whimper of protest as he pulled the vibrator out of you. he delivers a wet smack to your clit, tearing a gasp of pleasure from you. "how badly do you want your husband's cock?" sitting up, he shut the vibrator off and brought it to your mouth for you to lick.

being that the vibrator was custom made to resemble his cock in every way, your tongue greedy swept out to lick it. "please, i want my husband's inside of me," you reached down to stroke his cock lovingly.

"fuck, you are perfect," he tossed the vibrator aside and crawled on top of you. you move your hips obediently to rub your pussy on his cock, placing a kitten lick on his mouth in submission as he kissed you.

a string of saliva connected your tongue to his as he pulled away. he chuckled seeing the adoring flush on your cheeks, your eyes half lidded and hazy in a fucked out expression of worship. "precious," he marvelled before hastily grasping his cock and pushing inside of you.

the vibrator had prepared you enough that he could bottom out harshly in one thrust, his ego stretching as you practically screamed in pleasure. how many of his employees could say they are at home, defiling their spouse like he is right now? "i said keep talking, wife. praise me like the needy whore you are."

the burrowing of his cock head into your sweet spot seemed to strike you dumb for a moment, which made his cock pulse harder inside of you. you opened your mouth, however only whimpers of pleasure while you twitched in bliss came out. "look at my pretty wife," he cooed, licking his lips, and increasing his pace, "so fucked dumb you can't even speak."

you reached both your hands out for him, struggling to rock your hips up to meet his thrusts. scaramouche promptly took them both, intertwining his fingers with yours and pinning your hands on either side of your head.

"your cock feels so good!" you cried out, eager to oblige and indulge him. "only my husband can fuck me this good!" your head spun from the dizzying intensity of your approaching orgasm. you squeezed his hands tightly. "i need my husband to cum inside of me!"

scaramouche couldn't help it, as much as he wanted to make you cum hard first, your worshipping words of praise made him come apart. "the way you fucking cry for me, i can never enough," he groaned, hyper focused on fucking his cum inside of you as his cock emptied.

taking one hand out of yours, he lovingly stroked a hand through your hair before dipping his hand down to play with your nipples. the extra stimulation as he pinched and rolled the sensitive buds between his fingers ushered in your orgasm.

you could do nothing like lay there, limp with pleasure while you twitched and drooled creaming hard on his cock. he did not stop fucking you through your orgasm until he felt satisfied. he could feel his cum oozing with yours from your hole.

his head dropped down into your neck, nuzzling against it as his hips slowed to a stop. "don't you move while i run a bath for you," he lifted his head from your neck to press a soft kiss on your bit up lips.

"mkay," you murmured sleepily, smiling softly up at him as he pulled out. getting up, he walked into the bathroom and ran some hot water at the temperature he knew you liked best, and added soothing and good smelling oils and bath salts. all which you picked out shopping one day.

"i thought you didn't like the sweet mint oil i picked out the other day," you laughed softly as he scooped you up off the bed bridal style in arms. you easily recognized the scent of the oil as he carried you to the tub.

"hush, you," he replied, carefully putting you down in the warm water. "you like it so i.." he paused as he got in behind you, putting his arms around you and moving your back flush with his chest, trying to find the best word, "tolerate it."

[lemonlover1110]

𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐓

Satoru Gojo

Pairing: Professor!Satoru Gojo x f!Reader

Summary: To ensure you have a good grade, you stay a couple of minutes after class to chat with your professor.

Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Oral Sex (m. receiving), Face Fucking, Cum Eating, Power Dynamic

*In honor of the anniversary (which passed LMAO) of his unsealing, here's what I posted for the special occasion that got hit with a community label right away

You usually stay a couple of minutes after class to ask your professor a couple of questions about your homework. You’re always the last person to ask, mainly because after everything, he gives you some extra credit work to ensure you pass his class. 

“Make sure the door is locked.” Professor Gojo reminds you, and you walk over to the door to make sure no one will be able to walk through. Once you’re sure your little extra credit assignment won’t be interrupted, you walk back to Satoru with a smirk on your face. 

You take a seat on the desk, spreading your legs and lifting your skirt so he can see the cute little red panties you wear. He licks his lips at the sight, before his lips go down to meet yours. His tongue licks your bottom lip before it slides into your mouth. And as much as he’d love to taste your sugary lips all day long, you don’t have much time.

“Get on your knees.” He orders when he pulls away. You don’t get much say in what you do, after all, this is for extra credit. You have to work and do what he wants. So you get on your knees as he unbuckles his belt, telling you, “You really have to work for this.”

“I’ll do anything, professor.” You look up at him with doe-eyes as one of his hands goes down and caresses your cheek. You bat your eyelashes, watching as he unbuttons his pants. You feel his thumb press against your lips before he pulls down your bottom lip. He smirks.

“What a good student. The smartest and prettiest in the class.” He says as he begins to pull down his briefs. As he allows his cock to spring free he adds, “And the sluttiest.”

You lick your lips, your mouth beginning to water at the sight in front of you. He begins to stroke his cock, his thumb going over the tip and spreading his pre-cum, as he watches you. Your eyes focused on his dick. You’re biting down your bottom lip as you stare at it. He tells you ever-so-lovingly, “Open your mouth, sweetheart. Go ah–”

You open your mouth, sticking your tongue out, allowing him to slap his tip on your tongue. He keeps slapping your tongue until he gets bored and thrusts, putting almost every inch of his dick in your mouth. It causes you to gag, and you forget to breathe through your nose. Tears well up in your nose as Satoru grabs a handful of your hair and stops you from pulling away. He lets go and takes his cock out, saliva connecting your lips to his cock. He smirks while looking at your face. 

“Ah, can’t take it?” He taunts. You can’t say anything before he shoves his cock in your mouth again. This time you can actually handle it, remembering to breathe through your nose. He begins to move his hips. He groans as he moves, telling you, “What a nice little mouth. I should fuck it more often.”

You’re looking up at him, a tear escaping your eye as the tip of his cock repeatedly hits the back of your throat. Drool drips down to your chin as he uses your mouth. His balls slap against your chin with his every thrust. “Fuck– I need to tell Getou about this.”

You’re not paying all that much attention to what he says. You rarely do while you have sex. You just know he’s enjoying himself, at least that’s what you decipher from his grunting. Tears continue to escape your eyes and the sight is enough to nearly make him come.

“You’re working real hard.” He comments, finally letting go of your hair. He knows you won’t pull away now. “Should’ve done this sooner.”

He’s coming close to finishing, you can tell by the way his hips pick up speed, faster than his usual pace. You look up at him, watching how his head is thrown back. His lips are parted as he moans into the air, knowing that no one will hear. And if someone does, who cares? Nobody would snitch, and he wouldn’t mind a little blackmailing as long as he gets to put his cock in your mouth again. He grabs a fistful of your hair again and pushes your face onto him, your nose buried into his pubes.

“Fuck… Fuck–” He groans, coming to a complete stop inside your mouth, his bitter cum hitting the back of your throat. He lets go, allowing you to take your mouth off his cock and deeply inhale as you make sure to swallow his cum. “Open your mouth and stick your tongue out.”

You do as he says, and he grabs your chin and he moves your face. He smiles, patting your cheek, when he realizes that you swallowed every drop, “What a good girl. You’re getting your extra credit.”

“Thank you, professor.”

[hyper-fixates]

let me offer some subtle foreshadowing for this oneshot :)

that headcanon was made to be written for dofp/70s!logan cause those kitty ears do be voluminous, but feel free to insert whichever logan you prefer!

tags/warnings: 18+ — afab!reader (no pronouns/gendered language), oral sex (reader receiving), munch!logan, explicit language, fingering, teasing, use of “baby” once, edging, light biting (let me know if anything was missed!).

Logan is ever the perfect example of a walking contradiction.

A rough voice but gentle words. A soft touch but purposeful fingers. A guarded nature but a caring heart.

He juxtaposes himself. Every characteristic, every feature, has a partner in crime that shows you his versatility as a person and as something more.

The full, styled tufts of his hair graze the inside of your thighs with every deep lick up your slit.

Your legs rest over his bare shoulders while your heels slide up and down his back in restless pleasure; you have to dispel the tension in your muscles somehow.

“You’re shaking, baby,” Logan mumbles against your clit, readjusting the grip he has wrapped around the tops of your thighs.

He’s got you locked down. His hands slid along your hips and around to the top of each thigh, peeling them apart and keeping you tight against his hungry mouth. You couldn’t move in the slightest even if you tried. And you’ve tried.

A light gasp is ripped from you as his lips catch your clit. “It’s j-just, ah, a lot,” you breathe, eyes fuzzy with bliss.

Everything between Logan’s warm tongue to the ends of his hair brushing up against the tender skin along your thighs has introduced your body to new lengths of perception its never experienced before.

He’s been toying with you for half an hour. Half an hour of fleeting kisses, firm licks, and harsh sucks to your clit with the occasional finger or two pumping slowly inside you to back you away from the edge you’ve been chasing.

He’d take his mouth off of you, slipping his index or middle finger, or both, inside you as a reprieve; it would calm your impending orgasm but still keep you excited enough to soak his fingers for the few minutes he’d be pumping them into you.

You think he’d be able to get off on the sound of your cunt swallowing his fingers alone—a subtle squelching that puts just how desperate you are on display.

Logan pulls away from your pussy, turning to smear wet, messy kisses along the inside of your left thigh—this does nothing to soothe your aching cunt. If anything, it makes it worse. Feeling him right there but not where you want him.

“You want a break?” He asks, still scattering kisses while he loosens his grip on you, rubbing his hands comfortingly around your hips. You grab two of his fingers and squeeze them in your grip lovingly.

You arch into the touch slightly with a protesting groan. You don’t have the energy to lift your head to meet his playful hazel eyes, so you speak to the ceiling. “No—keep going. It hurts,”

Everything is on fire. Everything is throbbing. Your cunt is sore, tired of the teasing, but you want more of it. You want to drip through his sheets, coat his tongue, and feel the tips of his hair caress the sensitive skin inside your thighs.

“Mhm, I know, I know.” He gently nips at the skin adjacent to your cunt along the crevice of your thigh, not trying to break skin or leave a mark.

Your swollen clit gladly welcomes his clever tongue back. He gives three broad strokes before sliding down to your hole, lightly prodding it in quick motions that makes the tip of his nose bump against your clit.

“Ah, fuck. Fuck,” you whine, nearly wanting to start kicking against his back.

He buries his face so deep in you that his hair brushes your thighs with each keen mouthful of your pussy. Up, down, up, down.

You barely hear his moans over your own, but you know they’re there. You can feel them. They travel right through you—they vibrate against your clit—and you start clenching around nothing.

You want to clamp your thighs together, but his strong hands keep you open, and there’s nothing you can do but take it.

It’s a whole different level of euphoria when you aren’t able to control your pleasure. Logan knows that, and he likes to abuse that knowledge.

Your lungs can’t seem to get enough air to make up for how fast Logan’s stealing it from you with every stroke of his tongue.

He wraps his warm lips entirely around your clit, sucking just enough for your muscles to tense as he flicks the bud soothingly with the tip of his tongue.

You’re basically crying out with every exhale, wrapped up in tingling, sharp pleasure that has your lower body burning and every part of your cunt begging for relief.

“Oh, please. Please, please, please,” you chant, sliding a hand through his hair and grabbing a handful to anchor yourself.

He grunts, giving a hard roll of his tongue that has you coming on his sheets.

Thankfully, Logan doesn’t push you any further, even if he likes to most of the time. He gives mercy to your cunt, removing his mouth but letting a curious finger slide along your slit and down to your hole to feel how much cum he’ll get out of you.

He pushes in an inch or so, feeling your walls fluttering and pulsing.

You might be numb down there now. You nor your body acknowledge his wandering finger.

You lay with your eyes closed as you try to control your rapid heartbeat. A careful hand glides up along your side to your chest before stopping at the base of your neck.

You crack your eyes open to see Logan leaning beside you, gaze tracing down your quivering body.

“Nice work,” you say, a satisfied smirk pulling at your lips.

He raises a brow. “You do something long enough…you get good at it.” He shrugs, matching your wicked smirk.

A hundred-something years of experience, you remind yourself.

He lets himself fall on top of you, his damp facial hair chafing against your throat as he presses firm kisses along your jaw in praise.

Two fingers press into your cheek, turning your head towards his. You let your neck roll to the side.

His lips catch your own. You let him work your mouth open, tasting the remnants of your cum as he drags his tongue over yours enthusiastically.

“I’m so fucking hard right now,” he says against your lips, giving you a rather forceful kiss before you have to pull yourself away to laugh.

Logan is someone that will always give you both sides of himself—hard and soft, rough and gentle, stern and loving.

You feel very lucky to get it all.

[bandgie]

bangchan x fem!reader

warnings! MDNI 18+, cowgirl, PIV, cumming inside (if you squint), slowish sex, (just sex man I dunno what you want me to tell you)

526 words

Riding chan is one of the best things ways to destress. It doesn't always have to be fast and hard. You both can take your time this way. Your legs are on either side of his, gently rocking your hips so his cock barely moves inside you. 

The eye contact- god- the eye contact. Chan always makes sure he's touching you. Getting a feel of your hot skin on his. You're both clothed most of the time in these instances, but he'll just slip his hand under your shirt to place his hand on the small of your back. His other cupping your face while he kisses you slowly.

Chan's lips are so warm, so plush. It feels like heaven. Lips puckering against each other while his thumb strokes your cheek just under your eye. Even when he uses his tongue, it's still so gentle, so lovingly. He sucks your tongue in his own mouth, moaning at your taste before letting you suck his. 

His hips match your pace the whole time, giving just enough stimulation to make you mewl on his lips. 

It makes him giggle, lips pulled back into a smile even though you still try and kiss him. Funny to him, but frustrating to you. Your hands are tucked snugly between yours and Chan's bodies, using your little fists to lightly hit his chest.

"Not funny," you pout, lip jutting out dramatically. Chan thinks you're so endearing like this. Lips swollen and red from the kiss and with eyes with a light glaze over them. He giggles again and pecks the tip of your nose. "Aww, sorry baby. You're just so cute."

You whine again, though it's far from annoyance. Your hips start to swirl a little more roughly, and a little more quickly. Chan picks up on your relentlessness just as fast. His hand on your back trails to your ass, cupping your cheek to ground you.

"Thought you wanted to take it slow," he raises an eyebrow at you. "You feeling better?"

Nodding, you bury your face under his neck. You kiss the skin there, feeling him shiver beneath you and making his hips buck. "Mhm. Channie always makes me better."

Though you can't see, his face grows red. The tips of his ears burn red and he places a final kiss on the top of your head. He places both of his hands on your ass and adjusts his sitting position. Chan widens his stance, plants his feet flat on the floor of your living room, and thrusts his hips up in a way he knows drives you insane. 

It doesn't take long before you're moaning. Before you're chanting his name and trembling in his hold. You can't help yourself with the way Chan fits inside you. His cock slides between your walls with ease, his tip kissing the deepest parts of you when he buries himself deep inside you. 

Orgasming doesn't even matter in moments like these. You just want to feel close to Chan. Even after he and you cum, even when the release leaks out of your pussy onto his cock, all you want is to stay.

[eelnoise]

random sex headcanons! (nsfw)

had some thoughts during my workout today, so i figured i'd write them out as a break from the endless wips in my docs. :) zoro, sanji, usopp(!), and law x afab reader tagging: @bby-deerling @kaizokuniichan @throwmethroughawindow (hello soppers)

Zoro

Prefers a position where he can see your face.

He wants to watch you squirm under his touch, wants to see your expression twisting with ecstasy each time his cock slides against your walls.

Big on touch. His hands will glide along your body, squeezing at any flesh he can get his fingers around, but has a slight preference for grabbing your thighs - not only because he's a thigh guy, but because they're your thighs. Also helps him manhandle you into deeper positions.

Has two modes - rough and nasty, or gentle and loving. The first is more of a stress-reliever, or for a quickie in the training room before a meal, but its raw and real and even between his forceful strokes he's praising you, telling you how good you are, how good you feel, that you take him so well, or that you're made for his cock and his alone.

But if he's in his feels about you, he prefers it slow and steady. Missionary, lotus, cowgirl, whatever it is, Zoro finds great joy in watching you enjoy yourself. He'll hold your cheek in his palm and if you nuzzle into his touch you may be rewarded with a long, passionate series of kisses and words of love between each one. He tells you that you make him happy, that you're perfect and beautiful, how he's so lucky that you put up with him, and how much he loves you.

Sanji

Also a big face watcher, just the sight of you moaning and mewling for him is enough to make the coil of delirium unravel. 

Takes a while for him to stop finishing so quickly (he loves you!), but he gets that iron will eventually - and will use it to make you into a panting, tired, sweaty mess. 

Super switchy. Sanji will always lovingly top you, but loves being the bottom. Ride him, peg him, and gently tease him all you want - just treat him like the sweet prince that he is and be affectionate. Show him that you love him, take it into your own hands and watch him melt into you. 

Really likes seeing you dressed up, just to dress you down later. Kisses your neck and coos in your ear about how lovely you look while he unzips your dress before sliding it down your shoulders and into a heap of fabric on the floor. Undresses you with a fire in his veins, taking his time to caress every inch of flesh available to him, kissing down your body while taking off each piece of remaining clothing that lies his way. 

A pussy eating king. Sanji knows taste, and will bury his nose as deep into you as he can, licking and slurping up your juices like it's his last meal. He kisses it often, usually murmuring something in his native tongue against your folds and making you shiver from the timbre of his voice. 

Usopp

The sweet boy is so shy. Takes him a few tries before he can even look you in the eye (he’ll cum too quick :( !) during. So at first he takes you mostly from behind. 

His hands love digging into the plush of your ass, though. Gets really hypnotized by the way it bounces back onto his cock and tends to lose himself in the moment and - wanting to see it move faster - absent-mindedly picks up the pace to slam into you with harder and harder strokes. 

Once he opens up a bit, you find that he's really fun in bed. He makes love to you like you're the last thing he'll ever touch, but will switch it up on the fly and rail you until tears of overstimulation peck at your tear ducts. Folds you around as he wishes, trying every angle, every position that he can wiggle the both of you into - and every time you're happy to let him experiment. 

Call him Captain Usopp mid-sex and its over for you. Something emerges from him that makes him go feral. Grabs your hair or your arms and fucks you faster and harder than he can realize himself. Very dominant this way too - demands you say it again, or to keep calling him by the name. Assaults your neck and back with kisses and bites, hungrier than ever to mark you up as Captain Usopp's girl.

Always makes sure to show his feelings for you through touch and praise, but always says “I love you!” right as he cums. 

Law

Usually has no preference on positions. Law will fuck you in any way you want. Though is apt to end up telling you how he wants to take you regardless, urging you onto your hands and knees, pressing you against a wall, or bending you over his desk. 

Great with his fingers. Coaxes several orgasms from you before even considering putting his cock in you. Long, lithe digits scissor in and out of your entrance, spurring you magnificently over the edge over and over again. Loves to shove his fingers into your mouth afterward, and can barely keep his focus when you clean your slick from them. 

Absolutely gets pussy drunk. His cock twitches wildly in response to your walls clenching around him, making his head spin with want and desire. Leans back to watch himself disappear deep inside of you again and again, mesmerized by the way your pussy grips him and how wet and warm and tight you are. 

Plays into your sensitivities. If you have sensitive nipples or breasts, his mouth is on them, sucking and licking and nibbling in ways that have you crying out for more. Sensitive clit? Law is rubbing it in slow, agonizingly sweet circles as he thrusts into you, bringing you just to the edge of reality but not over it just yet. 

Very weak for affection, especially during intimacy. Hold his hand and hear him whine before grabbing you tighter and fucking you harder, but kiss him and watch his brain fray into blissful petals of pure devotion. Has been known to stop all together to just lock his lips to yours for a while. 

[colonelarr0w]

Everything was perfect. 

"You may kiss the bride." 

Your rosy lips turn upward in a lovesick smile, arms lifting to wrap around Gojo's neck and bring his face closer to yours, the tips of your noses brushing against one another as his arms loop around your waist. With one hand, he holds your waist, and with the other, he slowly begins to lift your leg, hooking it over his hip and dipping you down.  

You let out a tearful giggle, the sound mixing with Gojo's chuckle as he slots his lips against yours, pouring years of love and adoration into a singular kiss. You squeeze your arms around him to steady yourself, smiling against his lips as they move against your own.  

You pull back from him just as his tongue swipes against your bottom lip, no doubt wanting to shamelessly make out with you in front of an audience. But with your family sitting somewhere in the crowd, one of you had to demonstrate self-control.  

"It's nice to meet you Mrs. Gojo," Gojo whispers, his breath fanning over your lips as he continues to hold you close. You dive forward, pecking his lips again. He smiles at you, tearful aquamarine eyes crinkling at the corners as he stares down at you; his little wife. 

Everything was perfect. 

"I'm home!" Gojo announces as he kicks his shoes off, turning his body halfway to close the front door and peering around the dim-lighted living room. His eyebrows furrow, arms slapping against his sides as he realizes that you're not running to him to embrace him.  

Slowly, he walks further into the house, curiously peering into the kitchen only to be met with the sight of nothing. Worry sinks into his chest, but he doesn't allow himself to get worked up just yet.  

"Honey?" Gojo's voice is a quiet whisper as he enters the living room, eyes met with a heartwarming sight; you're sat in the center of the couch, arms wound around a sleeping Megumi. The boy leans impossibly further into your side, his head tucked comfortably into the crook of your neck with his body splayed over your own like a weighted blanket.  

His lips turn upward in a soft smile, hand reaching for his phone to photograph the moment and commit it to memory. But just as his fingers brush his phone, something tells him to instead live in the moment as opposed to capturing it.  

Gojo moves to kneel silently beside the couch, reaching out his index finger and lovingly stroking it against your cheek, smiling to himself as your nose scrunches up and you stir slightly. Those eyes that he could spend hours gazing into flutter open, a sleepy smile curling the corners of your lips upward.  

"Hi 'Toru," you whisper, yawning.  

"Hi pretty girl." 

Everything was perfect. 

"Satoru Gojo!" 

Gojo pauses, every bone in his body stilling as he slowly turns to look over his shoulder, swallowing his pride (and dignity) as you stomp over, Megumi not far behind. Gojo glances quickly at Yuuji and Nobara, silently asking them for help – but immediately the two first-years look around, not wanting to stand in the way of your wrath.  

"Hey honey," Gojo says with a smile, already feeling sweat build up against his forehead as you grow closer, eyes flaring with an anger that he had only ever seen once before – and honestly, he had no idea how he had even survived. "What's – uh – what's going on?" 

"What's going on?! You mean to tell me that you're going to stand there and act like nothing is wrong?" Your voice raises an octave or two in volume, making Gojo cringe and shrink in on himself. It was almost entertaining, really. Watching the 6'3 Special Grade Sorcerer be reduced to a shaking mess at the sight of his angered wife.  

Gojo remains silent, not wanting to respond in the fear that you would bite his head off.  

The staring contest between yourself and Gojo is tense, only made worse by the other pairs of eyes that watch quietly from the sidelines.  

Yuuji shifts closer to Megumi, craning his neck just low enough to whisper into his ear, "What's going on?" 

Megumi only smirks, lifting his arms to cross them over his chest. "He ate her leftovers last night." 

Everything was perfect... 

"I understand that your work is important, but you're barely home anymore," you say desperately, closing Megumi's bedroom door and turning on your heel to glance at Gojo. He rubs his hands against his face, skin catching the groan that falls from his lips. 

"I can't just say no to what the higher-ups want me to do, honey. You know that," Gojo responds, not failing to notice how your teeth catch your bottom lip, roughly biting down into the supple skin.  

"You have a family here 'Toru. Your missions are getting more and more dangerous and I – I don't want to be sitting on the couch one day and you just," you pause to swallow the growing lump in your throat, "don't come home." 

Gojo softens, his heart hammering in his chest as he stares silently down at you. Your eyes shine with tears, tears that he desperately wants to reach out and brush away – but something inside of him tells him not to.  

"Megumi needs you here. Hell, I need you here," you say desperately, laying a palm flat against your chest as you step forward to close the distance between yourself and Gojo.  

Something inside you damn near breaks as your husband takes a step back from you.  

"I know. Trust me I know. But there's only so much I can do. They need me (Y/N)," Gojo says. Immediately – the moment that those words fall from his lips – he wishes that he could fucking swallow them.  

You freeze, body standing rigid as your eyes blankly stare at him. Any ounce of emotion, anything that might have made you human is suddenly gone, replaced instead by a robotic stare that chills Gojo down to his very core. 

Silently, you brush past him, shoulder knocking against his chest as you walk down the hallway and vanish into the living room. Gojo stares after you, turning his head towards Megumi's door and screwing his eyes shut – fuck.  

Everything was perfect...? 

"Megumi! Have you seen your mother?" Gojo asks, waving his hand wildly in the air as the raven-haired teenager turns to glance at him, raising an eyebrow in both annoyance and curiosity.  

"She just went out on a field mission, why?" 

Gojo's heart sinks, body deflating as he pockets the necklace that he had planned to give you; a heart locket with a picture from your wedding day inside of it. Megumi watches his adoptive father's shaking hands, and a pang of curiosity flows through his body, but he makes no mention of it.  

"Oh, no reason. I just wanted to give her something," Gojo answers dismissively, waving his hand at Megumi before he lets out a disappointed sigh.  

Everything was perfect? 

"I understand, I'll tell Shoko to prepare a bed now," Ichiji says with a swift nod, though it doesn't go unnoticed how he swallows the lump in his throat. He removes the phone from his ear, pressing down on its red "hang-up" button and stowing the device away in his pocket.  

Curiously, Gojo peers at the assistant manager through his blindfold, tilting his head curiously as the younger man stands from his seat, beelining for the door and disappearing into the hallway.  

The snowy-haired male stands, following closely behind Ichiji and watching as the man's back tenses, his hands curling into white-knuckled fists. What the fuck was going on? 

His breath catches in his throat as he enters the infirmary. One of the tables is occupied, the body covered by a thin white tarp that's stained with the blood of whoever lies underneath.  

Ichiji glances at Shoko, who only stares down at the stained tarp with a numb glint to her eyes. Her hand extends, fingers wrapping over the top of the tarp and lowering it to reveal who lies beneath.  

Gojo's stomach turns.  

Was everything perfect?