#sometimes he smells a bit different

[thelastspeecher]

Pollution Powers AU Fiddleford manifests his power while he's out working in the fields on the farm. He walks into the house and is immediately told to go shower, because he reeks and is filthy. Which is expected after working the fields.

But when he's done showering, Ma McGucket scolds him for not washing properly. He still smells and has dirt on him! Fiddleford is confused, given he scrubbed like usual. But he goes to shower again.

When he emerges, his skin is rubbed raw from how hard he was scrubbing, but he still smells, and as Ma McGucket watches, patches of dirt form on his freshly washed face.

And she realizes that something strange and possibly serious is going on.

[pygmi-says-hi]

STOP DOING THIS IN INJURY FICS!!

Bleeding:

Blood is warm. if blood is cold, you’re really fucking feverish or the person is dead. it’s only sticky after it coagulates.

It smells! like iron, obv, but very metallic. heavy blood loss has a really potent smell, someone will notice.

Unless in a state of shock or fight-flight mode, a character will know they’re bleeding. stop with the ‘i didn’t even feel it’ yeah you did. drowsiness, confusion, pale complexion, nausea, clumsiness, and memory loss are symptoms to include.

blood flow ebbs. sometimes it’s really gushin’, other times it’s a trickle. could be the same wound at different points.

it’s slow. use this to your advantage! more sad writer times hehehe.

Stab wounds:

I have been mildly impaled with rebar on an occasion, so let me explain from experience. being stabbed is bizarre af. your body is soft. you can squish it, feel it jiggle when you move. whatever just stabbed you? not jiggly. it feels stiff and numb after the pain fades. often, stab wounds lead to nerve damage. hands, arms, feet, neck, all have more motor nerve clusters than the torso. fingers may go numb or useless if a tendon is nicked.

also, bleeding takes FOREVER to stop, as mentioned above.

if the wound has an exit wound, like a bullet clean through or a spear through the whole limb, DONT REMOVE THE OBJECT. character will die. leave it, bandage around it. could be a good opportunity for some touchy touchy :)

whump writers - good opportunity for caretaker angst and fluff w/ trying to manhandle whumpee into a good position to access both sites

Concussion:

despite the amnesia and confusion, people ain’t that articulate. even if they’re mumbling about how much they love (person) - if that’s ur trope - or a secret, it’s gonna make no sense. garbled nonsense, no full sentences, just a coupla words here and there.

if the concussion is mild, they’re gonna feel fine. until….bam! out like a light. kinda funny to witness, but also a good time for some caretaking fluff.

Fever:

you die at 110F. no 'oh no his fever is 120F!! ahhh!“ no his fever is 0F because he’s fucking dead. you lose consciousness around 103, sometimes less if it’s a child. brain damage occurs at over 104.

ACTUAL SYMPTOMS:

sluggishness

seizures (severe)

inability to speak clearly

feeling chilly/shivering

nausea

pain

delirium

symptoms increase as fever rises. slow build that secret sickness! feverish people can be irritable, maybe a bit of sass followed by some hurt/comfort. never hurt anybody.

ALSO about fevers - they absolutely can cause hallucinations. Sometimes these alter memory and future memory processing. they're scary shit guys.

fevers are a big deal! bad shit can happen! milk that till its dry (chill out) and get some good hurt/comfort whumpee shit.

keep writing u sadistic nerds xox love you

ALSO I FORGOT LEMME ADD ON:

YOU DIE AT 85F

sorry I forgot. at that point for a sustained period of time you're too cold to survive.

pt 2

also please stop traumadumping in the notes/tags, that's not the point of this post. it's really upsetting to see on my feed, so i'm muting the notifs for this post. if you have a question about this post, dm me, but i don't want a constant influx of traumatic stories. xox

[cherrygirlfriend]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ my nerdy boy

pairing: nerd!rafe x pervert!reader synopsis: all about nerd!rafe and his popular, secretly pervy girlfriend ૮꒰ ྀི >⸝⸝⸝< ྀི꒱ა warnings: smut, masturbation (f), implied virgin!rafe, MDNI! wc: 500 a/n; this is the first rafe fic on this account that isn't a repost! anyway lmk if you want to read more about them, this was sort of a 'morning thoughts' kinda post i wrote within an hour of waking up ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

masterlist ♡ pervert!reader masterlist

when you first met rafe, he was tutoring you for math and the moment you saw him, you thought he looked downright edible in his little specs and his slicked-back hair. he wore baggy hoodies and sweatshirts adorned with your college's name, but one time, you grabbed his bicep to 'steady yourself' (to feel him up) and you felt the hard planes of muscles hidden under his clothes that immediately gave you filthy thoughts.

from then on, you'd do anything to see that pretty blush that'd sometimes grace his defined cheeks, and it wasn't even a difficult thing to achieve. really, most of the time calling him cute was enough to get him turning as bright as a tomato.

you always wore something low-cut and tight to your tutoring sessions, biting down on your lip and shamelessly pushing your cleavage together as you pretended to listen to him explain statistics, your panties getting wetter and wetter the more and more he stumbled with his words.

when he finally gathered enough courage to ask you out on a date, you took him to see a movie, keeping your arm around his shoulders the entirety of the movie, until the final thirty minutes when you pretended to stretch and yawn, moving your hand to rest on his thigh.

rafe stiffened in his seat, a bulge starting to form in his jeans that you pretended not to notice, all the while drawing hearts on the inside of his thigh with your long, pretty nails.

when you two finally started going out officially, you could tell that he didn't have much experience with relationships, his kisses were clumsy and he kept apologizing if he was 'doing it wrong' and you thought it was the most adorable thing ever.

the first time he let you into his dorm room, it was like his personality had been transformed into a bedroom. when he slipped off into the bathroom, you rolled around in his sheets, smelling his shampoo on his pillow, your hand going to rub yourself over your leggings.

you giggled when you saw all the different boxer shorts neatly arranged in his drawer, grabbing a blue plaid pair and slipping them into your bag.

later that night, you called him, wearing his boxer shorts, your arousal soaking them the moment you put them on. he answered in a groggy voice that caused another pang of arousal to go through your body. he'd been up late doing homework, explaining the subject of his essay while you simply 'mmhm'ed and 'oh?'ed at everything the boy said, too busy rubbing yourself to pay any real attention.

you were looking at a picture that you'd secretly taken of him as you worked yourself closer and closer, picturing his hand was the one getting you off, thinking about what it'd be like to jerk him off with your favorite strawberry-scented lotion.

when you finally felt your orgasm rock through you, you bit down on your pillow to muffle the moans and the 'nngh!'s that escaped you.

and for the next ten-or-so minutes, you just listened to him rant about his classes, your hand still in his boxer shorts, a satisfied smile on your lips, thinking of all the ways in which you wanted to defile his innocence.

[all-pacas]

my cat, the pickiest eater on the planet, will not eat:

(wet foods flavors:)

any kind of bird (chicken, turkey)

beef

salmon but only every other week. sometimes he's into it

he has zero interest in, say, bits of raw chicken skin or raw fish i offer him. he has no interest in almost any human food. it's gotten to the point where i offer him everything (he does like smelling new things) just to see if anything will entice him

wet food with pumpkin

basically if it isn't "white fish" flavor he's not a huge fan

however, as of today he has decided that he also loves:

venison

??????????? venison really buddy??? i buy different flavors to test them for him and of course this is the expensive one. also. deers

also he really enjoys cheeto cheese. i don't let him eat that one.

[gghostwriter]

Three's a Sideshow

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Part 2 || Part 3 Summary: Spencer misses an important date and ends up paying the consequences Trope:Angst w.c: 4.2k a/n: this is one of the many many requests of @lavonee (her exact request was: maybe spencer misses an important date/anniversary because of jj and reader is finally fed up being second place to her) trying my best to address all of them. Not proofread. Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated! 💗 masterlist

The hazy dim light of each candle on the white linen covered table gave the restaurant an orange hue. Various aromas of meat, wine, and complimentary cheese wafted through the enclosed space. Sensual tones of the saxophone lightly played on the speakers perfectly weave through each muted conversations between loved ones—couples and families. The high-end restaurant basked in good food and great company. 

Everything was perfect.

Every costumer joyous and warm from the delicious wine. 

All except for one, alone by the corner booth, phone pressed to your ear and eyes scanning for the tall, lithe form of the date for the night.

Beep. Beep. Be—

You grimaced at the busy line tone that answered you, again. Hands gripping the draped linen, trying your best not to tap your newly manicured fingers on the table—trying to blend into the background, unsuccessfully. 

You stuck out like a sore thumb. All dressed up with no partner or food on the table, just a glass of once chilled wine—condensation all around it like tears of abandonment and longing. 

The same waitress who escorted you to the table—15 minutes ago, approached with a perfectly rehearsed smile.

“Ma’am, are we ready to order?”

You sighed. “Actually, my boyfriend isn’t here yet—”

She bit her lip, nodding, before quickly averting her eyes to the queued up line outside the premise.

Right. It was a Friday night and every adult in the vicinity wanted a night out to unwind and start their weekend on the right foot.

You tightly smiled, the embarrassment of tonight painting your cheeks a deep maroon, unnoticed through the flickering of the orange candlelight. “—you know what, I think I’d just have a slice of your chocolate cake to go. Yeah, I’m sorry about holding up the table.”

The waitress nodded, understanding washing on her face. “That’s alright. I’ll have your order packed and ready to go.”

“Thanks,” you murmured as you watched her leave. 

Tonight was suppose to be special. 

You dressed up in the same white with purple printed flower midi length dress, styled your hair effortlessly, and spritzed on your favorite perfume that smelled like a luscious garden after a rainy night.

Everything was just like how it was two weeks ago—including your boyfriend of three years, Spencer Reid, not showing up for the date.

You didn’t even know why you bothered. Why his promise of being here tonight made you feel giddy and trusting. Why his commitment on having do-over for the actual anniversary dinner that he missed two weeks ago made you think it was going to end differently and why you gave him another chance—

Another chance to let you down.

Another crack in your belief that you were important.

Another heartache to soothe.

Another let down. 

When you first entered the relationship, you understood the gravity of his work. How his career will always come first and how unpredictable it all may be.

That part—accepting those facts, were easy. You were always one to be tolerant and understanding ever since childhood, labeled as the easy kid—the independent, the self-sufficient. Mixed in with your highly demanding career as a doctor, you got it—the patience and consideration of a saint.

A martyr, your good friend once bluntly said. 

But what good was being a martyr when the person you’re killing yourself for didn’t notice?

It didn’t matter at first. Missed messages, missed calls, missed dates were just a work of rotten timing from both ends. Sometimes it was you having to run to the hospital for an emergency surgery and sometimes it was him having to catch a plane to a latest serial killer case.

The tandem of both independent and busy people in the relationship worked, love blossomed regardless.

What made it different was, there was three of you in the relationship.

The third party being an intense platonic, as he once defended, connection with Her.

You felt it for the first time during a get together with his found family. Your set of eyes trained to read in between the lines for the truth patients unwittingly hide from their doctor. It was a skill that you honed and never hated, up until that moment.

The stolen glances when the other wasn’t looking.

The emotion veiled between the eyes.

The unsaid words that seemed to spill from the silence.

Never mind that there were two presences in the vicinity that could have their life altered in any minute from the secrets long hidden in vaults. It was as if you and her husband were considered ornaments, pieces of a possible aftermath not worth saving. 

You knew of their past—Spencer admitting to having a crush on her during his early days with the team and asking her out on a baseball game date.

Everything was water under the bridge, your boyfriend assured you. But the thing was, water had a way of overflowing from confinement, turning deadly, and ravaging what once was an idyllic garden that bloomed from your affection. 

Now as you pay for the tab and collect your things, you felt the tides that destroyed the solace inside of you well up to your eyes—wanting the release you’re fighting to keep at bay.

A fight you’re bound to lose.

You whispered a thank you to the waitress, soft and quiet that you were unsure if she even heard it but that was the best you could do, the sobs closing your vocal chords and threatening to escape, making you a spectacle—leaving the restaurant alone, with a boxed cake on hand.

What a sad sight.

You fumbled with the phone again, hands shaking as you insert the key on the ignition.

Beep. Beep. Be—

Nothing. 

What even was the point of all of this, you wondered. All this emotion, love, that was once sweet and heavenly now all felt rotten, puss oozing from its pores and flies exalting for a feast. 

Slowly backing your black 4-door sedan out of the parking lot, you pondered if this was the end—did you have any more left to give? Or was this just a bump on the road for the your future selves to learn and heartily laugh about? 

———

The rattling of your keys as you dropped it on the ceramic plate across the main door disrupted the silent, empty apartment.

A small smile graced your face as you remembered spontaneously booking a ceramic wheel class with Spencer in tow. His initial worries about getting under the nails dirty and the bacteria that could be collected from any stranger that used the items before the both of you swept away with your giggles and assurances to double up on vitamins. 

There was a wide grin on his face then, accepting defeat from the sight of your enthusiasm and glee. 

It was one of your greatest memory with Spencer and when the glazed pottery came from the mail—yours, a wonky blue green plate and his, an uneven moss green bowl, you had him promise to take you again.

A promise that never came to fruition.

You sighed, eyes tracking the rented space you never quite moved in to. The walls painted this dark green color, reflecting the somber mood you frequently found yourself in and the shelves filled to the brim with books you never dream of reading.

in hindsight, maybe your subconscious was telling you something. Why you never agreed to Spencer’s casual asking of you to live with him. Why you were adamant of keeping your own apartment regardless of the nights you spent outside of it.

This place became your pseudo-home, comfortable but never quite permanent. 

The distant murmur of a car being parked on the street had you clambering up from your defeated, slouched position on the leather couch. In your gut, you knew who it was.

You spotted them exiting the SUV.

The two figures that make the relationship three—a sideshow for everyone to see.

Spencer and JJ. 

They talked for a bit, probably saying pleasantries of goodbyes, before she leaned in for a hug. One that he reciprocated, patting her back as he went. 

They looked like a couple and if you were in your right state of mind, you’d chalk the exchange up to nothing but you weren’t—you were wounded and unsure of your standing ever since you exited the restaurant.

Were you his first still?

Or were you just second place? 

They were questions you never wanted no, needed, to be addressed but it seemed like tonight was the night of reckoning.

As you watched Spencer enter the apartment, the smile on his face from spotting you slowly become a furrow between his brows, you fidgeted—pulling the coat tighter to your body, the one you never hung on the back of the door—ready to bolt.

“Love, I’m so sorry I missed our reservation—”

He went in for a kiss on your glossy lips. 

A simple act that you didn’t have the energy to accept, you turned your head to the side. His lips catching your cheek instead.

“It’s fine,” you sardonically replied. “It wasn’t like I was waiting for you for half an hour to show up. It’s fine, Spencer.” 

His brow twitched. 

“It sounds like it’s not fine. Why don’t you tell me what you really feel? We promised to openly communicate, didn’t we?”

You huffed, throwing your hands up in the air. “I said it’s fine, Spencer. Why don’t you give it a rest?”

“You look beautiful,” his calloused fingers gently caressing your hair. “I’m sorry I didn’t show. It’s just that JJ and the tea—”

Your last thread of reason snapped clean from hearing her name.

“It’s always going to be like this, isn’t it? Me coming after her?”

“Love.”

“Don’t touch me—don’t call me that,” you pushed his hands away, tucking the escaped tendrils behind your ears. 

His own, raking the wavy brown hair you loved, in frustration. You could tell, with how his hands opened and closed, that he was itching to touch you, comfort you. 

“Her? You mean, JJ? She’s a friend. Just a friend.” 

“And if this friend wasn’t married with kids, would you still be here with me now?”

Silence. 

There, you said it.

“What—yes, yes of course. Why would you ask that? Why would you doubt it? Doubt me?”

Your gut twisted inside of you. It was inconceivable for someone like Spencer to lie, wasn’t it? He was a good guy, one of the best. But all the hidden resentment in your heart—a pile you weren’t even aware of, no longer wanted to be silenced. It no longer wanted to be pushed to the side for optimism and denial. 

“I don’t know, Spencer. Maybe it’s the way you look at her—” voice raising up an octave. You’ve lost control, verbally dumping out everything. “Do you think I don’t see it? You look at her with this, this nostalgia and—and this emotion that I can’t compare to—never seen it when you look at me! Or maybe, maybe it’s because you drop everything for her? Including me?”

“Are you talking about when Henry got sick?” his hands finding a home on his hips. “I thought you understood—you of all, should have.”

Your laughter turned into a sob. “I do—I did, until you dropped me of unceremoniously back here, in this apartment, just so you could rush out to her home. Like I was some kind of secret, you didn’t want to bring around her. Like I was some sort of disease, you didn’t want her catching. Didn’t you think I would be of great help? A licensed medical doctor?”

“I wasn’t thinking straight—I thought you, you shouldn’t be exposed to the type of flu Henry contracted. You could have gotten sick too and could have passed it on to your other patients.”

“It’s my job to take care of the sick, don’t you think I take measures for my own health? Spencer, please, for once just be honest with me.”

He tilted his head. “Honest about what?”

“If it’s her you really want and if I’m just a passable substitute to settle down with.”

You could see his eyes blazing with such—disgust? Anger? You didn’t know what emotion it was before it was snuffed out, leaving his expression blank and almost sad. It was a look you were familiar with, his profiler look.

“I don’t need you profiling me and my insecurities, Spencer. I just want the truth. The God-honest truth.” 

“I love you. I can’t imagine a life without you—I won’t imagine it. Isn’t that enough?”

Your hands drop to your side.

“I don’t know. Is it?”

The distance created by the silence between you and Spencer was vast. You’ve never felt quite alone and isolated in the relationship until this moment. Was this it, then? The end to your once dreamed of happy ever after? 

“I’m sorry I missed the dinner. Why don’t you let me make it up to you? We can book the same restaurant for next week and—”

“You can’t just make up for a make up anniversary dinner, that’s not how it works in real life, Spencer. And besides, I don’t want to see the same pitying looks the workers there give me when they realize my date is again, and again, a no-show.”

He sighed, slowly invading your space. The arms that once felt like home to you, circling your waist, now felt foreign. You never imagined you’d get here but then again, who did? 

Your hands clasped his button down before loosening its grip. Taking in one more whiff of his cedar-wood and mint perfume, you pushed him away. Stepping backwards from his presence and all he had to offer.

“It’s late. We’re both tired—”

He nervously smiled. Intertwining his fingers with yours and started to walk backwards to the direction of the bedroom. “Yeah, we can talk about it in the morning once you feel better.”

You wiggled your hand free.

“Actually, I think I have to go.”

Spencer paused, panic coloring his face. “That’s—that’s not what I meant, love. Anything but that. Please, please I love you and I’m sorry.”

“Me too, Spence. Me too.” 

You slowly gathered your things, sans the chocolate cake left opened and untouched on the coffee table. 

“Happy anniversary, I need space to think this all through—to think us through.”

He stood still, blocking your way, trying to wrap his head around the direction this was going to. The inevitable downfall of him and you. It was a car crash no one could no longer escape from. 

“Please, let me fix this. I can do it, just—tell me how. Do you want me to limit my time spent with JJ? I-I can try, just please, don’t leave me.”

It wasn’t a promise, you noted. With how many broken promises there were between the span of your relationship, you wondered if that was a conscious choice of wording from him. It sounded hopeful, gleaming with oath even. But they were just words at the end of the day, packaged pretty for you to swallow.

“I need time, Spencer. I’m not breaking up with you, I just need space,” you placed a kiss on his cheek, wet from tears. “Can you give me that, love?”

He choked a sob. 

“Promise me you’ll be back. Promise me.”

You tightly smiled, making your way back to the door. The unanswered plea hanging in the air like a blade, waiting to slash down between you—waiting to sever the connection that was once shiny and new. 

Shakily removing the spare key of the apartment from your chain, you chanced one last look at his hunched form—sobs emitting from his sweet lips and acid rain spilling down his cherub cheeks, regretting that this might be your last memory of Spencer Reid.

You didn’t know if you’d be back. 

If the thought of being second place will ever go away.

But the sinking feeling in your gut tells you the truth—that this is it.

This is final.

This is the end. 

Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

[eomayas]

distracted • hjs

pairing: husband&dad!joshua, wife&mom!reader, established relationship

genre: smut 18+ MINORS DNI!!!!!!!!! fluff, parent au, non-idol au

synopsis: reader is literally just feral for joshua

warnings: pwp, p in v, oral (m receiving), riding, praise, dirty talk, soft!dom!josh, breeding, josh calls reader a ‘slut’ (lovingly) once, reader & josh are parents, reader losing her mind over josh mainly. JOSHUA ARMS. unedited ;)))

a/n: i’ve experienced extreme joshua brainrot lately then did an extreme deep dive of jarms (joshua arms) until 2 in the morning. i am unwell and need him like a fish needs water

joshua pushes the shopping cart that holds groceries, and your daughter in the front of the basket, down the aisle. you trail a step or two behind them, mind a bit foggy and… distracted. you don’t know what it is, he’s just wearing a plain, white tshirt and blue jeans—he’s worn it before—and you’re running errands together like you always do. but today is different, and you can’t seem to comprehend a single thing going on around you, or really look at your husband without feeling mild insanity.

first, you’d wandered into the store in a daze, forgetting that joshua was grabbing the shopping cart with your daughter, after having sat in the front seat watching him drive for twenty minutes. his hand sat steady at ten and two, ever the safe driver when your daughter was present, though at stop lights he would sometimes grab your hand or settle his palm on your leg. you felt lost since the morning, woke up with your mind cloudy and your brain foggy just at the mere sight of him.

then, you couldn’t remember a single thing on your grocery list. in your clouded state, you must’ve forgotten the list in the kitchen; it wasn’t a big deal, except for the fact that you literally couldn’t think about a single thing that you needed to buy, and you are usually the one leading the pack around the store. so the three of you have been wandering around the grocery store for longer than you want to be, circling back to the same aisles you’ve already been on because you can’t remember what it is you need to buy.

now you’re back in the dairy aisle, unsure of why you’re back because youve already grabbed milk and cream cheese, so you’re just standing in front of the cold, double doors without a single thought in your head. “yogurt, maybe?” joshua tries, pausing his conversation with your child to help you out. you blink once, twice before mumbling out a ‘right’ and pulling the doors open and grabbing a container.

“mommy, that’s not the right one!” your daughter whines when you drop it in the basket. she’s frowning at you, eyebrows crinkled the same way joshua’s do. god. you make the mistake of looking up at him, and your entire body flushes you meet his gaze. his eyes are soft but questioning, asking if you if you’re alright without actually saying it. no, i’m not, you think to yourself, discreetly sweeping your hand up your neck to check your pulse. it’s fast, and you’re definitely still alive.

joshua watches you with mild concern; he’s noticed your strange, avoidant behavior since this morning when he got back from the gym. you had looked almost surprised when he walked into your bedroom, like you weren’t expecting him back. your eyes widened, and your lips parted like you were going to say something but nothing came out. he beat you to words, anyway, giving you a soft ‘good morning’ that made you blush—he’d ignored it because you seemed… off—and kissed you on the lips. he thought he really smelled with the way you rushed your lips off of his and rolled out of bed, nearly tripping over your own feet. joshua grabbed you so you wouldn’t fall, and he felt you tense in his hold, a frown etching on his features. he brushed it off and asked if you wanted to shower with him, expecting a ‘yes’ from the look that flashed through your eyes, but you instead mumbled something about having to make breakfast before hurrying out of the bedroom all together. you basically avoided him all day since then, never really looking at him or talking to him directly—none of which you do on a constant basis.

the yogurt was, in fact, incorrect down to the brand and flavor. “i’m sorry, baby,” you say to your daughter, running a hand over her hair before grabbing the yogurt to swap it out for the correct one, this time taking a few seconds to scan everything in the fridge. you appreciate the cold air from the refrigerator, as it cools you down from the rush of heat you feel along your face and neck. you take a breath and tell yourself to get a fucking grip before dropping the correct item into the cart.

“daddy, can i get ice cream?” your daughter asks joshua as you start ambling through the grocery store. you cut your eyes at your daughter for not asking you, but you know it’s because joshua never says no to her.

“of course, princess,” and you watch with pure adoration as he places a kiss on her forehead and she just giggles, scrunching her shoulders up to her ears. joshua is a good husband, but he’s an even better father, and you love watching him interact with your daughter. they have a special connection that you love to witness, a secret language just between the two of them. it’s moment like this where you want another kid—or maybe it’s part of the hazy mess you’re in because of his sheer existence.

you follow behind joshua towards the ice cream aisle. the shirt he wears is tight on him, straining against his biceps and shoulders. you can make out his back muscles depending on how the light hits the fabric, and you feel even crazier than before. his muscles have been the source of your you distracted state today. joshua has always been muscular, and he’s always worked out, but something about him recently has flipped a switch in your brain that has made you feel absolutely feral every time you catch a mere glimpse of his arms—which is quite literally every day. this morning it was too overwhelming, him coming home and shedding his jacket to reveal himself in a simple black tank top that looked a size too small, and gray sweats that made you feel like you needed to go to confessional.

another rush of cold air pulls you out of your lustful daze and you stand at the back of the shopping cart as joshua shuffles through the cartons of ice cream, asking your daughter her input. you try to keep your eyes focused on your daughter, anything else, but cant help when they drift over to your husband, his arms flexing each time he grabs a pint and displays it to your daughter. joshua casts a glance at you, a smile that says can you believe this? when you daughter shakes her head for the fourth time, despite not asking to look for herself. you blush under his gaze, heat spreading down your neck and chest before settling in your stomach.

"i thought you liked the oreo one?" you say to your daughter, voice slightly hoarse. you smooth a hand over her hair to give yourself something to do, hands a little clammy from all of your nerves working overtime.

"i do..." she trails off, turning to look at you with a tiny pout on her lips.

"tell daddy before he freezes," you say, placing a soft kiss on her cheek. just the mere reference to joshua feels heavy in your mouth, makes your stomach flutter for reasons you can't really explain.

joshua places the pint of oreo ice cream into the cart, circling around to the front and playfully ticking your daughter under her chin. she giggles loudly and you smile as you watch her become a spitting image of her father. arms cage you between the carts handlebar and a firm chest, and suddenly your eyes are no longer on your kid but on the strong, veiny forearms that belong to your husband. “excuse me,” he murmurs, a teasing lilt to his voice like he knows that you’re losing your mind at the simple sight of him.

wordlessly, you gently grab his right arm to remove yourself from his entrapment. “hey,” joshua says softly, reaching out for your wrist as you move swiftly to get away from him. turning, goosebumps arise on your skin, and you tell yourself that it’s because his hands are ice cold. “you okay, honey?” your stomach flips and you press your lips into a small smile, nodding.

joshua stares at you for a beat before leaning down a few inches, silently begging for a kiss. you nearly combust at the thought, not trustworthy of yourself to behave normally in public. but his eyes are fond, and you love him so much and want him so bad that you raise up on your toes and brace yourself on his shoulders before delivering a soft, quick peck to his lips. you’re proud of yourself for holding back, but joshua isn’t satisfied because he stays leaned over in the spot you kissed him in for a few seconds after the fact that you’ve pulled away. if you were at home, he’d yank you back to him but because you’re in public he files that grievance away and straightens up.

“i want a kiss,” your daughter pouts, cutely crossing her arms over her chest. since she doesn’t specify from whom, both of you lean in and press kisses to her cheeks. her giggle ripples through you, filling your stomach with butterflies and your chest with a type of love reserved only for her. you’re momentarily pulled away from your joshua shaped daze, until his hand is settling on your lower back. it chilling, his touch, and it’s not because his hands are ice cold from standing in the grocery store freezer for two minutes.

a shiver runs up your spine and you slip out of his grasp, not paying attention to where or what you’re walking into until joshua is pulling you back into him, his hand splayed across your stomach and your back colliding with his chest. “babe, watch out,” a woman pushing a cart stops short, a look of remorse on her face.

“oh my god, did i hit you?” she asks, and you figure you must look injured or something, because she looks genuinely concerned for your wellbeing. the flush on your face is not due to the fact that you were almost ran over, but because joshua hasn’t moved his hand from your stomach and hasn’t put any distance between your back and his front. he stays pressed against you, holding you firmly in front of him, his hold tightening ever so slightly.

“n-no, i’m alright,” you manage, lips tingling. “i swear.” you add when her eyebrows don’t drop from her hairline. at that, she seems to believe you enough snd offers you a smile and a curt nod before hurrying down the aisle.

“are you alright, honey? you’re trembling,” joshua says, his deep voice like melted wax running down your back. you make the mistake of looking up and over your shoulder at him, his palm pressing into your lower belly.

he peers down at you with soft eyes, ready to question you again until your tongue darts out to wet your lips before you tuck your bottom lip under your top one and nod. he knows the look in your eyes all too well—hunger, but not for food—and heat pools in his chest. joshua is much better at hiding his desire for you, especially in public and in front of your child, and he’s able to keep his expression the same, pretending he never saw that look in your eye. “i’m fine,” you’re shuffling away from him again, this time checking to make sure you’re not seconds away from being ran over with a shopping cart.

somehow, you three mange to finish your shopping trip without anymore mishaps. it requires circling back to the same aisles more than once because neither you nor josh can remember what you wanted to buy, but at least you can say you’re done. joshua loads the groceries into the trunk while you buckle your daughter into the backseat. she yawns, stretching her little arms up and out. “sleepy?” you ask her, a small smile on your face.

“no,” she says, vehemently shaking her head. you chuckle hum a sound of disbelief before dropping a kiss on her forehead and going to the front seat. the trunk closes and you suck in a breath as you watch him in the rearview mirror. he brushes his hand through his hair, and even through the mirror and the tint of the trunk window, you can make out his bicep muscle flexing with the motion.

it’s nearly pathetic how horny you feel just looking at him—like an overgrown teenager who just got into their first relationship. except you’re an adult, married to this man, and this behavior is no longer considered ‘cute’.

joshua gets into the front seat and smiles at you, leaning over the console to give you a kiss. his hand rests on the side of your neck, and you wonder if he’s trying to check your pulse, to mess with you. you keep your hands to yourself, because if you touch him, you might never stop.

pulling back from your mouth, he looks into your eyes before flicking them back down to your lips. joshua starts to lean in but seems to remember you’re not alone, and sits back in his seat, his hand lingering on your neck for a moment before he starts the car and asks your daughter if she’s ready to go.

the car ride is quiet, save for your daughters yawns and insistence that she is not tired. she makes most of the noise, talking about random things that you and joshua entertain with ease. he watches her in the review mirror with real, unconditional love in his eyes. it does nothing to help your situation, and just makes you want to give him another baby.

when you arrive back at your house, you quickly get out of the car, grateful to get out of the stuffy, suffocating feeling of being in the front seat. you walk around the back and help your daughter out, ready to carry her inside until she exclaims, “i want to help!”

you ser her down on the ground and she runs over to joshua. you watch him give her two of the lighter bags of groceries, and raises her arms to show you, a big smile on her face. you smile back and press in the garage code and tell her to go inside of the house, seemingly leaving you and joshua alone. you sidle up next to him, and joshua lightly bumps his hip into yours. “hmm?” you question without looking up from the numerous bags in the back of the car.

“why are you avoiding me?” he asks, and the directness makes your hands clam up.

“i’m not avoiding you,” you say, taking a few grocery bags and backing up from him.

“you quite literally are.”

you stare up at him, his eyebrows knitted together in slight irritation. “i still love you, if that’s what you’re asking,” you clarify. his features soften and his shoulders relax a bit. those shoulders. your eyes drifts down his figure, lingering on his flexed forearms, veins bulging out from the tension of carrying the grocery bags.

joshua watches you obviously ogle and check him out, his entire figure relaxing at his realization. “oh, i get it now,” he teases, a slow smirk sliding across his lips.

“get what?” you play dumb, taking a tentative step backwards before turning around and trying to keep your walk casual as you walk through the garage. it’s so obvious you’re trying to keep space between the two of you, putting anything in the way to keep you off of him.

“that you wan-“ joshua cuts himself off because you push open the door that leads you into the house. he clears his throat and closes the garage door before following behind you into the kitchen. your daughter is standing on her tippy toes trying to reach a cupboard that’s way to high for her, concentration etched on her face. “need help, bub?” he asks, setting his bags down on the counter.

“i can’t reach,” she whines, yawning immediately after. joshua lifts her up into his arms and opens the cupboard for her abd allows her to put the item away. “i’m tired, daddy.” she rests her head on his shoulder, tiny arms encircling around his neck.

you watch them and you feel your heart grow three times in size, like the grinch. joshua coos at her and pats her head before agreeing to put her down for a nap. you busy yourself with unloading the groceries, stomach flipping at the thought of having at least an hour alone with your husband. you can’t believe how depraved you feel.

joshua comes back downstairs a few minutes later, right when you’re putting the last thing into the fridge. “you finished?” he asks. you nod, heart hammering in your chest as he walks over to you. his hands drop onto your hips, pulling you flush against him. you keep your eyes straight ahead, leveled wirh his chest, and joshua dips his head down to meet your eyes. “see: you’re avoiding me.”

hear creeps up your neck and you shake your head. “i’m not.”

“don’t try to gaslight me,” he teases, making you roll your eyes and finally look up at him. “there she is.” he murmurs, leaning down a few centimeters to connect your lips. your hands flatten against his chest, and he walks your backwards into one of the kitchen counters. joshua leans over you, trying to press you flat against the surface despite the lack of space.

“shua,” you breathe once you pull away when he unbuttons your jeans.

“what, you’ve got somewhere better to be?” he asks, arching one of his eyebrows.

“i… i have to do laundry…” you say halfheartedly. joshua laughs at this, dropping his forehead against yours. “i’m serious!” you say, but you’re smiling too. “i want to go back to avoiding you.”

joshua pulls back to look down at you, making a face that says for what? “i thought you wanted me to fuck you?”

“yeah, i’m afraid nothing will keep me off of you if we start,” you say honestly. joshua blushes deeply, a boyish grin on his face. “i want you so bad—i think i might be ovulating? i don’t know. i just want you so. bad.” you punctuate the last part with the press of your knuckles into his chest.

“you’re ovulating?” it’s like bells went off in his head.

“maybe, i don’t know. i don’t keep track of that shit. i just need an explanation for how i feel,” you say, hands sliding along his chest absentmindedly.

joshua raises both of his eyebrows at you, fake shock on his face. “maybe because you have a super hot and sexy husband who is also a really good father? just a hunch.”

“no, i don’t think that’s it,” he rolls his eyes at you and you giggle, balling his shirt up into your fists and pulling him down to you. joshua grips onto the counter to steady himself, his hold tight enough to turn his knuckles white. he presses his pelvis into yours, his his erection pressing against your leg.

joshua wraps an arm around you and splays his hand across the small of your back. he presses you down onto the counter and you grip his shoulders tightly, craning your mouth away from his to breathe out, “not here.” he pulls you up from the counter and looks down at you, his chest moving up and down quickly. you can practically see the gears turning in his head as he thinks about a place to fuck you that won’t bring attention to the two of you. “laund-ah!” he swoops you up into his arms easily, already carrying you in the direction of your laundry room before you can even get the entire word out.

you wrap your legs around his waist as you buzz with need and anticipation. you let yourself revel at being carried by him after lusting over his arms all day. he carries you like you’re weightless, with his his hands resting under your ass for support. “god,” you whisper to yourself, pressing a kiss into his neck.

“i love you,” he rasps as he enters the laundry room. he shuts and locks the door behind him before dropping you onto the washing machine. his hands are flying to undo the buttons of your blouse and you pull him closer using your ankles that are still wrapped around him.

“love you more,” you murmur, helping him with removing your top. “your turn.” your urge, pulling the hem of his shirt.

“sure you can handle it?” he teases. you flush and lightly push at his abdomen. “don’t wanna make you pass out or anything.” he smirks at you, loving to watch you squirm.

“i can handle it,” you say, feeling so embarrassed to even be in this position. luckily, joshua is sweet to you above all and draws you in for a kiss. you skate your hands up underneath his shirt, nails lightly scratching against his torso. “take it off.” you mumble against his lips, hands pushing up the material of his shirt. you feel like you could rip him out of the fabric.

joshua pulls back and makes an entire show of getting undressed. he runs a hand through his hair and purposefully flexes his bicep as he does so. if this was any other time, you’d roll your eyes and call him annoying. but today, all you can do is watch and try not to drool.

he pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it into an empty laundry basket nearby. you waste no time leaning forward and pulling him into a kiss, threading your fingers through his hair. you move to kiss his jaw and then his neck, your hands sliding down his body. you kiss across his chest, going lower until the position becomes uncomfortable. lightly shoving him, you hop off of the washing machine and drop to your knees in front of him.

joshua watches you with dark eyes, holding onto the edge of the machine. you fumble with his belt, hands shaking with anticipation of finally having him, and he makes no effort to help you out. your hands work too fast, and you mess up when you try to pull the buckle open for the second time. “i’ve got all day,” he say smugly. you ignore him, and finally pull his belt free. you work his pants down to his ankles, leaving. him in just his briefs. you let out a breath and look up at him with pure lust. “as pretty as you look right now, you’d look much better with my cock in your mouth.”

quickly, you pull his underwear down and let them pool together with his pants, hands flying to grab ahold of his member. you pump him a few times, flicking your eyes to look up at him. joshua gives you a slight nod, signaling you to start sucking, and you eagerly oblige. sticking your tongue out, you lick up the precum that dribbles out of the tip before you wrap your lips around the head and push him into your mouth, cheeks hollowing as you go. a groan escapes joshua’s mouth and he gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail.

you drag him into your mouth inch by inch, your eyes never once leaving his. his chest heaves up and down, moving faster and faster the closer you get to taking him all the way. tears prick in your eyes when he hits the back of your throat, but you keep going until your nose nearly presses into his hips. “shit,” he whispers, leaning more of his weight into the washing machine.

you bob your head up and down, pulling back and stroking what doesn’t fit. you swirl your tongue around the tip, cheeks hollowing to create more suction when you suck on the tip. joshua moans lowly above you and tells you how good you’re doing. his eyes flutter shut, squeezed shut in pleasure and his chin drops down to his mouth. you want his eyes on you, want him to watch you as you make him feel good, so you purposefully scrape your teach against his dick to get his attention.

his eyes fly open as he jerks back from you, glaring at you when you smile around him. “brat,” he spits and tightens his grip on your hair. you sigh through your nose and press your thighs together, cunt throbbing with need. you keep bobbing your head, speeding up slightly and taking more of him into your mouth. when joshua presses your head down, you relax your throat and let him take control, hands moving to hold onto his thighs. “good girl.” he grunts, holding your head down on his dick for a few seconds until you gag, and then he pulls you off of him.

he does this a few more times, his cock twitching against your tongue. tears gather in your eyes but you power through, determined to make him cum. he pulls you down onto him, cursing each time he hits the back of your throat. “fuck, you take me so well. i’m c-close,” tears slip down your cheeks and mix in with the spit and cum. your face is a mess, but neither of you care.

joshua fucks his cock into your mouth, holding your head steady in his hands. you dig your nails his thighs to combat the ache in your jaw. he thrusts into your mouth until he can’t take the feeling of your warm mouth around him anymore, his cum shooting into the back of your throat. you keep your mouth open to catch all of his seed, some of it gathering around the corner of your lips. “s-swallow,” he demands when he pulls his cock away from your mouth.

you obediently swallow, and he whines in the back of his throat. “goddamn, i love you,” he holds his hands out to you and helps you up onto his feet. he wipes the corners of you lips with his thumb and shoves it into your mouth, lips parting when you suck on his thumb like you just did his cock. “youre such a slut.” he murmurs, a loving gaze in his eyes.

a trail of saliva connects your lips to his thumb when you pull it out of your mouth. “promise?” you ask.

joshua smiles and pulls you into a kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth. his hands make use of unbuttoning your jeans and shoving his hands down your pants. your panties are damp, and he’s a bit shocked and honored that you’re this wet for him. “i need you,” you whine, peppering kisses down his neck. you don’t even want his fingers, just want him inside of you.

“i know,” he rasps, slipping a finger between your folds. you shudder when he touches you, his finger playing with your arousal and brushing over your clit, just to make you jump. you clench around nothing, and it’s nearly painful how turned on you are.

“joshua!” you whine, nipping at his neck. his hand immediately grabs onto your hair and yanks, a hiss emitting from your lips followed by a smirk.

“needy brat,” he grumbles, walking the two of you over to the work bench in the room. he drops onto it and spreads his legs invitingly. you quickly step out of your jeans and underwear, his eyes roaming over your body. “you’re a beautiful, y/n.”joshua says sincerely; at the end of the day, he is simply a lover boy.

you smile at him and quickly drop yourself onto his lap, straddling him and wrapping your arms around his neck. you reach between the two of you and position yourself over his cock. his hands grip onto your hips tightly and guide you down onto him, bottom lip drawing in between his teeth.

“ah-fuck!” you cry when you sink onto the tip, the initial stretch rippling through you.

“you’ve got it, baby,” he encourages, thumbs rubbing sift circles into your hips. you bite down on your bottom lip, hands gripping tightly onto his shoulders as you sink lower and lower onto him. “goddamn, girl.” he grunts, hips bucking when you clench around him.

when you manage to take all of him, you sit still and catch your breath, head resting on his shoulder. joshua unhooks your bra and you lean back to slide it off your arms. “you okay?” he asks, hands groping your chest.

“uh huh,” you rasp, taking it as a sign to start fuckign him, licking your lips and raising your hips before dropping onto his lap. “fuck, shua.” whimpers leave you lips as you fuck yourself onto him, using his shoulders as leverage to move yourself up and down. joshua relaxes into the wall, his grip on your hips loosening as you gain momentum and find a rhythm.

“you’re so tight,” he groans, one of his thumbs finding your clit and rubbing slow circles around the sensitive nub. “been thinking about fucking you all day.” joshua sighs and rubs your clit quicker, eyes peering up to watch your facial expressions. “you need me as bad as i needed you?” he mumbles, voice low and husky.

“more,” you pant, still bouncing up and down on him. your cunt clamps around him like it’s trying to keep him there. “shuaaa!” you whine, thighs burning. you sit on his lap, rolling your hips into his.

he chuckles breathlessly, rolling his other thumb over one of your nipples. “yeah? tell me,” he grins at you devilishly, this side of him only coming out in your intimate moments.

“so bad,” you cry, grinding down onto his lap. “w-wanna give you a-another baby.” you squeeze around him involuntarily, a knot forming in your stomach. joshua twitches inside of you at the mention of having another child.

“yeah? want me to fill you up?” you whimper and nod, legs starting to shake. “want me to fuck you full of my cum until you’re pregnant again?” he lets go of you breast to place both hands underneath your ass. he lifts you up and drops you down, a show of his strength as he fucks you up an down onto him.

joshua grumbles filthy things into your ear; tells you that he’s gonna fuck you until you can’t walk, that he’s gonna stuff you full, that’s he’s going to give you another baby tonight. “f-fuck! i-im gonna cum,” you cry, throwing your head back in pleasure. he bucks his hips up into you, hitting that spongy spot inside of you repeatedly.

spots blur your vision and your cunt spasms around him as you reach your climax. it hits you like a thousand bricks, and you’re shaking in his arm and crying out his name. you expect him to stop, but he keeps thrusting up into you, drawing out your orgasm further. you can hardly think through the waves of pleasure, which is why you hardly register that he’s lifted you up until you’re placed on a cold surface.

joshua drags you to the edge of the washing machine and slams his cock into you, nearly knocking the wind out of you. “o-oh my god,” you gasp, tears brimming in your eyes for the second time tonight. “you feel so good!”

he drives his hips into you brutally, his fingers digging into the fat of your thighs. “f-fuck, i’m not gonna last,” he groans, dropping his head into your neck. he kisses your skin and lightly bites, though not hard enough to leave marks. you cling to him, arms secured around his shoulders like you may fall if you dont hold on.

his thrusts get sloppier by the second, indicative of his nearing climax. “i love you,” you breathe, nails clawing at his back. he grunts, whining out curses as he cums inside of you, his dick twitching between your walls. he stills, fingers applying bruising pressure to your hips.

after a few moments, he lifts his head from your shoulder and looks at you, a tender smile on his face. he presses his lips to your gently, sighing against you as he goes soft. “shit,” he pants, followed by a light chuckle.

you can’t help but giggle back, running a hand through his hair. he doesn’t want to pull out, not yet at least, wanting to make sure his cum stays inside of you as long as possible. he lets go of your thighs and wraps his arms around you, squeezing you into his chest. you kiss the column of his throat, right on his adam’s apple and rubs soft circles into your back.

“we should clean up,” he murmurs, starting to draw back from you. you make a sound of disagreement and squeeze around him on purpose. “b-brat.” he stammers, curling away from you.

he pulls out of you with a lewd squelch, both of you turning light shades of pink at the noise. he helps you off of the washer and you lean against it. he finds a random towel and comes back to wipe between your legs before cleaning himself off and tossing it in the same basket he threw his shirt in. “i guess i could start a load,” you say, looking at all of the discarded clothes, making joshua laugh.

he helps you gather them up and drop them into the washer. you add in the detergent and slam the top closed. except, when you go to start the washer, joshua places a hand on your back and presses you flat against the washer and slots his knee between your legs to spread them open. you don’t get a chance to prepare yourself because he’s pushing into you again, a strong arm wrapping around your middle to hold you steady as he fucks into you from behind, determined to get you pregnant tonight.

[screampied]

gojo fucking you in your sundress bc he likes easy access and can’t control himself when he sees you. thanks for listening!

gojo fucking you in a sundress ★

cw. fem! reader, dirty talk, praise, unprotected, whiney gojo, premature ejaculation, breeding, mdni.

“uh huh,” gojo hums, listening to you ramble about your day. he slings a beefy arm around you, holding you close before planting a kiss on your forehead. you looked so pretty today—you always looked pretty, but today was a bit different. you were wearing a new sundress he bought you. with that fact alone, gojo sucks his teeth, relishing on how good you looked. it fit you perfectly, showing off every part of your sonsie curves. his eyes roam and dawdle everywhere, slowly peering down at every inch of your body before he clings onto your hips. groaning, he cuts you off. “baby, did i tell you how gorgeous you look today?”

“yeah, like five times—” you giggle, gasping once you feel him rub against you. pressed up against the kitchen counter, you feel the hardened print of his bulge poke out of his sweats. it’s hard, and as he rubs against you, you suddenly lose your train of thought. “mhm, s- satoru. are you hard?”

sibilating out a single hiss, he grunts. “maybe just a little. your thighs look so pretty. i— i just wanna,” and he buries his face into the crook of your neck, taking a second to suck against your tender skin. oh, you tasted so sweet. too sweet, your skin had a bit of a syrupy flavor to it. to him, you were simply glacé—candied, gojo satoru’s always had a sweet tooth. his tongue enticingly curls its way against your neck in a circular fashion and you let off a moan. his touch was staticky like electricity. each pad of his fingertips running against the edges of your sundress felt like dozens of little shockwaves coursing through your veins at once. “i want you s- so bad.”

“so take me then,” you tease—yet he’s serious, and the moment you say those four words, he lifts it up with a single hand, giving your ass a mean squeeze.

“i plan to, a- angel.”

as you’re still hunched over the counter, he wastes no time to spring out his cock.

it’s so cute at how soaked you were. your pretty cunt all exposed and sopping wet. between your thighs, you were nothing but a mess—drooling with heated arousal. he can smell the scent, it makes him needy for more of your taste. for more of how you feel from the inside. with an eyebrow raise, he murmurs underneath his breath. “huhh,” and a thumb of his strums straightly down your sobbing slit. “so soaked. you been playin’ with yourself, baby?”

“just a little,” you inhale honestly, biting back a moan once he drags his dick toward your opening. your beloved cunt that was dribbling with your own slick was growing impatient, his reddened tip was just aching to be inside. it’s as if the air suddenly grows substantially thick. another low groan rumbles out of him before he aligns himself. at your cute answer, it makes his snowy brows arch together in frustrated rapture. “couldn’t help it. missed you, ‘toru.”

“don’t like when ya play with her when ‘m not here, angel,” he tsks, purring against your earlobe. a thumb still spreads against your opening folds. warm breath of his ghosts against your ear and it’s enough to make you moan.

with the way your pussy’s drooling, it’s enough to make his mouth salivate. you looked appetizing, especially in this point of view. that’s right when he smears his fattened tip against your greedy little hole.

“mhm, but that’s okay. pretty girl jus’ can’t help herself sometimes,” and his voice grows low.

the rasp was hoarsely deep—you whine incessantly once he starts to slowly insert his way in, the girth of his cock clamping against your walls and it drives you to the first street of insanity. as your goopy, stretchy walls happily accept his pulsating length wholeheartedly, you bite down on your lip harshly. “look at this ass. all for fuckin’ me.”

and he spanks you, a swatting palm goes against your skin. the smacking sound rings through your ears and you whimper from the brief sting that follows for a few seconds. it almost rings through your ears like bells on a wedding day before he sinks more inches inside. after a while, he caresses your ass cheek to soothe it. gojo’s lengthy, long inches seep into your core before you whine. it doesn’t take long before he bottoms out, already having your eyeballs roll and knock to the depths of your skull. “s- satoru,” you moan, clinging onto the granite made kitchen counter.

it’s slick and clean—cold, you wriggle your ass against him and that only tempts him more. a hand of his yanks on the back of your sundress, and he’s fully in. “fuck me, ‘toru. f- fuck me.”

“your voice alone ‘s gonna make me c- cum,” he groans, and within seconds he’s fully in. you hang onto the railing of the counter, chewing down on your lip.

whimpering loudly, gojo’s so vocal against your ear. he’s smelling you—your scent, your aroma. it makes him go crazy. to think all this was because of your pretty little sundress. “fuck,” he swears, rough hands of his gripping onto the fabric sticking against your skin as he’s rutting his cock in and out of you.

prying your legs open a bit with a little pressure, a hand of his wraps around your throat gently. meanwhile, another snakes between your parted thighs. “you should wear more sundresses around me, b- baby.”

“you should buy more for me then, ‘toru,” you sweetly mewl in response. there was a bit of playfulness in your voice. his throbbing tip mashing against that same spot to make your toes curl.

you’re tasting nirvana—it’s salty, ethereal and perfect. his strokes against you was deep but thorough. gojo never misses a spot— he knows the layout of your cunt, he knows the exact areas to strike his tip at to make you weak. you’re babbling, digging your nails into the edges of the counter before gasping for air. gojo gives your spasming cunt a brief squeeze with his whole wrist before he starts whining into your ear.

“i’ll buy you anythin’ you want, angel,” and his bottom lip quivers. his sweet melodic sounds against your ear grows louder, causing your limbs to spike. his rhythm was rough but sensual and precise. “ugh,” he tilts his head back, white flimsy strands of hair falling near his naturally arched brows. your warmth, its suffocating his dick entirely. swallowing a single gulp, his adam’s apple bobs and gojo’s eyes start to roll into the backs of his head. “s- so wet inside, i missed you. i missed my wife.”

“w— wife?” you reply, but due to the shakiness under your tone, it’s more of a whine.

a grunt rumbles from gojo and a hand of his then squeezes against your thigh. taking in all of your curves was his favorite. “yeah,” he lowly whispers, bringing a single kiss against your collarbone. “gonna make you my wife someday. give you a few babies, i- i want you.”

“satoruuu,” you moan, reaching down to toy with your clit but he stops you. with quick reflexes, he grabs ahold of your wrist before pinning it back. with a sharp piston of his hips, his base thwacks against your ass before he hisses. gojo’s about to finish—he knows and you know it too. he starts to gradually slow down, yet he’s still going in deep, going in hot. “you’re right, wanna be your wife ‘n bare a few of your kids.”

“i’ll be sure to make this tummy,” and he pauses, rubbing a hand against your stomach—his palm was frigidly cold.

feverishly hot bodies clash and grind against each other in pure harmony, pure sync and it was pure bliss. “. . . . extra plump ‘n round,” he concludes his sentence, and right as he’s finalizing his single pumps, he bites into your neck. a grunt chokes from his throat, and he succumbs to the sweet euphoric sensations. the friction of your cunt sloshing and sloshing against his cock makes him whine right into your ear. “oh, f- fuck, ‘m gonna fill you with so much. take it baby, pleaseplease.”

once gojo finishes— it’s so much. it comes out in stringy ropes, velvety,

with a gripping grip clinging onto the back of your sundress, it’s almost being torn into two. once he shoots into you raw, it spurts and spurts to where you can almost hear it. just about— it sounds wet, just like you were. you jitter a bit as he’s still inside, feeling him emit such volumes of seed into you. it’s smiley and thick, gooey and goopy.

languidly, he pulls his limp cock out, watching as his hot own cum ooze out of your achy pussy. it looked so pretty that he takes a mental picture. he wanted to savor this moment—savor you being arched over like this, savor the exact color pattern of your sundress, savor everything. gojo’s dizzy, a thumb of his drags in a zigzag rotation toward your sopping entrance. you’re saturated between your thighs by now. bedaubing a digit against your opening, it coats on the pad of his finger with so much filth and he can’t help but bring it towards his mouth. doing so, he takes a quick lick, truly unfazed and unbothered, not caring he tasted his own. as you stand there on shaky legs, you moan once he smears his fat tip against your cunt— watching it try to instinctively swallow his shaft back in. it’s hardly to any avail though.

“s- satoruuu,” you pout, feeling against the back of your sundress. “my dress is ripped.”

with an airy laugh, he leans against your neck to create a slope of wet kisses near your tender skin.

“awww,” he purrs, a hand grasping onto your hip. gojo feels against the curvature of your physique before humming. “don’t worry, angel. i’ll buy ya as many sundresses you want. you’ll be the perfect mommy.”

[shysuccubusstuff]

Yandere! Caleb:

Content: Non proof-reader; Gaslight + Manipulation + Lying; Established relationship + Somnophilia + Masturbating with clothes + Possessiveness + Riding + Size difference + Praising + Dumbification + Overstimulation + Thigh riding.

Note: I have never been a Caleb hater, so of course I had to write something about this cutie... Have you all seen the trailer? What do you think about him? I'm actually quite glad that they added someone who better fits the role of a dark romance, as Sylus was just a green forest contrary to what he was presented as. Let me know if you want in comments/private messages!! Also, sorry if it seems a bit too short :((

SFW:

Yandere! Caleb, who has known you since childhood, thus it is only natural that he knows every single small detail about you. What do you mean by saying that it's not normal for him to know the exact measures of every single inch of your body? He has known you for over eleven years, it's only natural.

Yandere! Caleb who sometimes takes advantage of your kind heart, remarking just how close you are, gaslighting you into thinking that some of the stuff he does for you is completely normal between friends. I mean, of course friends tell each other where are they every single second, and of course they know all of their other friends.

Yandere! Caleb who also uses the advantage of being a bit older than you, so you just have to trust his advices. He knows best, and he loves you, so how could you even doubt him?

Yandere! Caleb who slowly makes sure to get rid of your other friends, specially those who seem a bit too eager to hangout with you. He does this by lying, asking you to help him searching for the perfect gift for grandma, as he wasn't completely sure if that would actuall suit her taste. Or maybe getting sick on purpose, bathing with freezing cold water, staying there for a few hours just to make sure you would refuse to leave him all alone.

Yandere! Caleb who overprotected you since he was young, always holding hands with you until you started to get shy about it. He was always leading you, his magnetic gaze making it impossible to refuse his requests.

Yandere! Caleb who starts to train late at night as a way to stop his own urges to chain you to him. Punching the training bag as he keeps reminding himself that if he does that it would mean breaking the façade he had spent so much time creating just for your entertainment.

Yandere! Caleb who buys you a beautiful necklace for your birthday, he smiles brightly as he helps you put it around your neck. You were still unaware, but this was just one of the most tame ways he came up with to show just how much he wanted you only for him.

NSFW:

Yandere! Caleb who sometimes makes his way inside your house late at night, the keys to it in his pockets as you had given them to him in case he ever needed a place to rest, or he simply wanted to pay a visit. He rummages around your drawers, searching for anything that has your scent, he presses it to his nose, smelling that sweet scent as he feels his erection grow under his pants. He bites his lips as a way to keep himself from undoing his belt and start to touch himself just from imagining your precious face smiling at him.

Yandere! Caleb who enjoys using his own body weight as he fucks your pretty pussy, making you whine and mewl each time he increases the pressure against your lower tummy causing his dick rubbing even more against your insides. Even despite you cling to the sheets for dear life as he plunges against you, he simply smiles sadistically, one of his hands petting your hair as he keeps watching you try to stop yourself from spilling out all those lewd moans by biting on the pillow. His mind rushing as he imagines all those damn "friends" hearing you melt under him just from him moving his hips a bit as he forces his way into you.

Yandere! Caleb who loves seeing the necklace he gave you recoiling against your chest each time he helped you to move up and down his cock, nails digging on his back as he kept hitting that sweet spot, kissing your neck as he whispered sweet nothings against your ear: "You're doing so good for me, yeah, keep moving your hips baby..." [...] "Are you getting tired, baby? Let me help you." Suddenly, his hands wrap around your hips, forcing his whole length on a single thrust, a squeal leaving your mouth as the tip of his cock suddenly hit against your cervix, eyes rolling back as he kept pressing his cock against you, mainting you completely still as he kept praising you. "Shh... You're doing so good for me, taking my whole cock inside you... So good baby, so good for me... Just a bit more, yeah? Gotta make sure you get all dumb and pretty for me, right?"

Yandere! Caleb who loves dirtying your face with his cum, allowing you to give him head, his fingers making their way into your lower half, using his rough fingertips to play with your clit as you started to spread soft kisses all over his length. By the time he finally cums, your mind was completely melted from cumming all over his fingers and mouth, sucking on his cock mindlessly as he moved his hips in a slow rythm, only increasing it as he came inside your mouth. When he opened his eyes, he found a precious sight, your mouth slightly open as a few strings of his cum escapep from your soft lips, your eyes looking at him as if you were dazed, glistening with a mixture of pure love and devotion. He quickly cleans it, kissing your lips as lets you rest on top of him, peppering soft kisses all over your face. "You did amazing, sweetheart. Such a good girl for me."

Yandere! Caleb, who sometimes becomes extra mean with you, making you mewl as he forces you to orgasm just from using his knee, having you ride them as he looks at you with an unamused look on his face. You keep rubbing against his clothed lower half, pleading between soft moans to get him to touch you, whispering things like: "Please, please, please, just the tip-- Can't take it anymore... Caleb please--". By the time he decides to get you to cum, you are already a panting mess, drool falling down your chin as your mind is already too far gone, tears falling down your face from the frustration. Before you are even able to realise, Caleb is already forcing you to cum all over your panties, his fingers rubbing against your clothed clit as you mumble a few words of gratitude.

[selfcarecap]

Over Each Other [L.H.]

Logan Howlett x female!reader

summary: Logan and you are just friends – you have a boyfriend, after all. But sometimes when you and your boyfriend are arguing, Logan listens and jerks off to it. He knows you two will break up soon, and he’s just finding ways to patiently pass the time until you can be his. Until one night, you’ve fought your final argument with your boyfriend and are in need of some comfort that Logan is more than happy to provide.

warnings: smut 18+ like this is more sexual and less fluffy (or angsty) than the summary sounds tbh (m masturbation, oral sex f receiving, unprotected piv, creampie, Logan calls reader princess, good girl, bub, baby), kinda toxic i mean you read the summary but still a sweet fic, reader is vulnerable so Logan could be seen to be taking advantage of her so don’t read if you don’t like, excuse the dramatic title and a few lines (from Linkin Park’s Over Each Other) because this is also me working through some feelings lmao, this is obviously not at aaalllll a realistic depiction of healing from a break-up lol (although I sincerely believe it would work with Logan..), X-Mansion era

note: not the fic I was expecting to be my first fic in over a month but my heart needed this so here you go <3 i also only proofread once so lmk if there are any atrocious typos lmao | gorgeous dividers by @dollywons

word count: 3.9k oops wth 

Logan knows he’s a bad man. He’s killed people, innocent people, committed countless crimes, done more evil things than he can ever remember. But now he knows he’s a bad man because of something entirely different. 

Logan shamelessly jerks off to the sound of you and your boyfriend arguing. 

He doesn’t even need to use his heightened hearing, that’s how loud you two are. Night after night after night he listens to you arguing, stroking his cock to the rhythm of your voice. 

You always have the upper hand — he would never masturbate to your pain or to you being degraded. Your boyfriend is a fucking idiot and you’re not afraid to let him know. Logan is sure he’s not the only one who knows that your relationship will end soon, and he’s fine to give you the time you need. Logan is a patient man these days; he can wait. But he’ll make the wait worth his while. 

He gains pleasure from knowing that soon you two will break up, and you’ll be all his.

Logan sees the way you look at him, senses the way your heartbeat speeds up that little bit when he smiles at you, smells a spike in your pheromones when he’s around. And he’s no different when it comes to you.

The more you and your stupid boyfriend argue, the closer you get to breaking up, and the closer Logan gets to his release. 

He’s listening to your moans of frustration this evening and imagines turning them into moans of pleasure, imagines licking your pussy until you’ve forgot all about your little boyfriend. Logan’s fist speeds up around his dick, hips moving up to fuck into his hand as he thinks of you and your gorgeous face.

Logan cums with your voice in his head, with the thought of you and your boyfriend finally breaking up, and shoots cum all over his own hand, down his forearm, and over his abs. He jerks off until he’s satisfied, lying in his bed a mess for a second – his hand coated in his cum, his happy trail sticky.

When Logan’s breath slows down, he realises your voice has stopped. You’re not arguing anymore – you must have gone to sleep. Then he hears your voice again, this time much closer.

“Logan?” A quiet knock at his door, “It’s me, you still awake?”

He pulls his sweatpants back in place and reaches for a tissue, only for his hand to land in the empty box. In a panic, Logan takes off the shirt that he’d pushed up over his abs, and uses it to clean himself of his release, using his freshly washed shirt like a rag.

“One second!” He calls out as he rubs the bunched up shirt over his happy trail to get it all off. Logan throws the dirty shirt into the corner of the room, and opens the door shirtless.

His heart drops when he sees the state you’re in, cheeks wet with tears and clinging to a teddy bear Logan once got you.

“Um… we just broke up. Can I come in? I know it’s late…”

Logan ushers you inside before the sentence has fully left your lips. Now he feels a twinge of guilt – he was too busy trying to get off to realise it was a serious argument this time. Maybe he jerks off more to the concept of you and that dumb boyfriend (ex-boyfriend) arguing and how hot you sound putting that guy in his place all confidently, than the actual fight.

As much as it pains him to see you hurt, he has to smile behind your back for a second when he closes the door. But a shiver runs up his spine when you let your guard down once you’re alone with Logan, all teary-eyed and small and sad. 

Logan sits you down on his bed as you tell him the full story. 

I tried to find my patience… 

All we did was talk over each other… 

 It was all a waste of time… 

There was nothing underneath… 

 I'm so tired of talking over each other…

Logan hugs you while you cling to him, your words barely audible with how you’re smothered against his naked shoulder. He gently rubs your back, and it only makes you hold onto him tighter. 

“Shh, shh baby, I’m here for you. It’s gonna be okay.” The pet name just slips out. Logan barely realises what he’s said until you look up at him all doe-eyed, nodding your head frantically. 

“I’m okay,” you say, “For now. Thank you for listening.”

“Of course, do you want to stay here for the night?”

“If you don’t mind.”

“‘Course I don’t mind, bub. I like having you here. Even better if it means I can take care of you while you need someone,” Logan says, and watches a soft smile spread on your face.

You sit up to wipe your eyes, only to realise you have no tears left. It’s been an hour since you got here, and you’ve calmed down. 

Logan held you, said all the right things, helped you see things clearly. You’re better off without that guy, and you know Logan will be here for you until you’re over him. More importantly, you’re sure he will be there for you beyond that too.

“Here you go,” Logan takes your teddy and gives him a special place on his nightstand, and lets you wrap your arms around him as you settle against his chest. He’s not sure what to do next, but it’s late and he assumes you have no energy to do anything other than sleep.

It surprises him when you speak up a few minutes later, though your voice is quiet.

“He couldn’t even make me cum…”

Logan looks at you and finds a pout on your lips but a glint in your eyes, the warm glow of his bedside lamp making you look like an angel.

He chuckles, “So you’re crying over a man that couldn’t even make his girl feel good?”

You nod your head and smile bashfully.

“When was the last time you were fucked well?”

You look away from Logan as you think, “Uh, I dunno.” 

“Hhmm. You didn’t miss it in all that time you were together?”

You turn to your side to lean up on your elbow, more awake again, “Well, I did. But maybe now I can… find someone better.”

You’re looking up right at Logan through your pretty eyelashes, and it’s subtle but so seductive, but he knows you’re too shy to initiate something, especially now when you probably feel guilty for not mourning your relationship more. But Logan is proud of you for realising your worth and ending it. Your ex should be the only one sad right now, not you.

“Of course you will,” Logan tells you, “You’ll find someone who loves you more than that idiot ever could and someone who will fuck you as good as you deserve.”

“Hmm, you think so?”

“I know so, bub.”

You give him a smile and move to lie down on your belly, head resting on your folded up arms. Your scooting around moves the blanket, pulling it off of Logan’s lap, revealing the half-hard bulge under his sweatpants. 

Logan pulls the blanket back in place, but he’s not sure if you saw.

“How will I know if I’m being fucked well? If I don’t have a reference…” you play with your hands, not looking at Logan.

“I could always show you,” Logan smiles, patiently waiting for you to gain the confidence to look back into his eyes, and you do.

“Only if you want to. But if I’m interpreting your signals right then..” you nod to his lap with a teasing smile.

“You saw…” Logan rolls his eyes at himself which earns him a sweet laugh from you, “Didn’t want you to think your pain makes me hard, or that I’m taking advantage of you.”

“Do I look like I’m in pain right now?” you giggle, a huge smile on your face, cheeks already getting warm with arousal, “And if you wanted to take advantage I’m sure you wouldn’t have waited for me to bring it up.”

“You sure about this, bub? We have all the time in the world.”

“I want you now, Logan. Been waiting to get the courage to break up with him so I could finally have a chance at being with you.”

“Really?” Logan asks, but you’re busy letting your gaze drift down his body, fixed on his lap now. Logan moves closer, and he takes your face in his hands, chuckling “You still with me, bub?”

You don’t reply. Instead, you push your mouth against his, and it’s the most intense kiss Logan has ever experienced. It’s like Logan can feel himself pulling all the pain from you with his lips, eating your pain alive and swallowing it, never to be seen again.

He doesn’t even have to open his eyes to know that you’re smiling more than you have in weeks. He can feel a new energy radiating off your body. Something is healing in you. 

You kiss until you’re both breathless, smiling and horny. Logan’s erection is pressing against your leg, and he can practically smell how wet you are.

“Tell me what you need, baby,” Logan says, heart beating fast from how turned on he is.

You pause for a second, grinning and almost too needy to think, “Tell me what you want to do to me.”

“How about I show you?” Logan lies you on your back, slowly pushing your oversized sleep shirt over your hips, and kissing down your body, down to your knees and over your shins.

“Is this okay? Tell me if you wanna stop.”

“Don’t stop,” you breathe, skin heating up where he touches you to gently pull your knees apart, “Never stop.”

Logan chuckles against your warm skin where he kisses you, from the side of your knee to your upper inner thigh. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you, how long I've needed you.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” It’s hard to talk, but you’re getting the words out somehow, “Could’ve been with you ages ago.”

“Didn’t want to intervene with anything. You needed your time to break up. And I know good things take time, and…” his words die in his throat when his lips move to your panties. They’re soaked with wetness, and Logan inhales you, something between a moan and a whimper leaving his mouth.

“God, baby…” he whispers, settling down between your legs and then lifting them up over his shoulders, “You have no idea how badly I need to eat your pussy right now. Can I?”

You nod, fighting the urge to rip your panties off yourself.

“Use your words, princess.”

“Yes, Logan.. yes, yes.” It’s the only word you can think of right now, with the heat of his mouth so close to your clothed pussy. He smirks at your words and nuzzles his cheek between your legs, leaving your clit throbbing and the spot on your panties growing larger.

You clench around nothing when Logan trails the tip of his tongue up and down your pussy over your panties, your legs squeezing around his head, hands finding his hair.

“You gonna be a good girl for me and stop squirming? I wanna take my time with you, baby.” 

You nod and close your eyes for a moment, unsure if you can stop. But then Logan slowly pulls your panties to the side and seems to forget about wanting to take his time himself.

“Such a pretty fucking pussy, baby–” he interrupts his own words by burying his face between your legs, licking his way up from your pussy to the top of your clit and moaning as if it were the best meal he’s ever tasted.

You tighten your hand in his hair to pull him even closer and he obeys your silent command, burying his face in you more, his beard, lips and nose now wet with you. Logan licks into your pussy, tasting you like a man starved, one of his big hands coming up your body to place it over your tit.

“So fucking perfect,” he mumbles more to himself, finger playing with your nipple as his tongue plays with your clit. It’s been so long since you experienced this type of pleasure that you’re close already.

“Logan…” it comes out as a whimper, and he smirks as he lifts his head to look at you.

“Yes, princess?”

“Might not last long..” you say, and it takes everything in you not to push his head down.

“That’s the point, baby,” he smiles, and goes back down. He brings his hands between your legs to spread your pussy lips so that he can get even closer. You feel vulnerable spread open for him like this, but it’s a comfortable vulnerability. Your heart feels content. You know you can trust him. He won’t hurt you.

You’re so wet that you’re almost embarrassed by how loud it sounds when Logan eats your pussy. A pleasure you’ve been missing in your life for a while rushes through your body when Logan begins to suck on your clit, and your back arches off the bed.

You cum with Logan’s name a whisper on your lips, and he doesn’t stop until you’re seeing stars and pushing his head away. 

Logan sits up from between your legs with a grin, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and then licking it clean right after.

“You okay?” He smiles, and you realise how hard you’re panting.

“Yeah. I almost forgot what that feels like,” you confess.

“What, cumming?”

You nod with a pout that Logan quickly kisses away, covering your body with his as he hovers over you.

“Trust me, bub, we’ll make you remember all of it. You up for more tonight?”

“Yes,” you reply embarrassingly fast. You’re not sure you could stop if you wanted to, your body pumped full with the happiness hormones you haven’t felt in all too long.

Logan holds himself up over you with one arm, pulling down his pants. You’d tease him about the wet spot of precum on them, but you’re far too horny to think of what to say.

“Good, because you taste so delicious, baby, you’re not getting rid of me between your legs any time soon,” he smirks, leaning down to kiss you as you grin against him. You don’t want him to leave, ever.

His big hand finds your thigh, and he gently pushes a finger in, then two, kissing you and watching your face for any signs of discomfort, but all you’re doing is arching your back for him to push deeper.

“You want it, baby?”

You look down Logan’s body, eyes settling on his hard and wanting cock, the tip glistening with precum, “Mhmm,” you nod frantically, “I want it.”

“Been a while though…” you add hesitantly.

“It’s okay, princess. I’ll be gentle. We’ve got all the time in the world, okay?” He leans his forehead against yours and a smile spreads over your face again.

“Okay.” You lean up to kiss him, both of you getting lost in the way your tongues feel against each other for a few moments.

“Here,” Logan rubs a few messy circles over your pussy, his palm getting slick with your wetness. He wraps a hand around his dick, stroking himself a few times to coat himself in the feeling of you.

“I’m ready,” you tell Logan before he can ask.

“Good girl.”

Logan trails his thumb over your cheek and gives you a chaste kiss, and butterflies erupt in your belly.

“You have no idea how happy I am right now,” he says, and all you can do is look back up at him lovingly.

“You want me to put it in?” he asks, teasingly slapping his cock against your clit a few times. Then, he suddenly pauses.

The warmth of him above you is gone, but he’s not far. He’s leaning over to his bedside table, turning your teddy bear away from you two.

“He doesn’t need to see this,” he says all seriously, and you giggle.

You help him take off your shirt, and you’re bare underneath, and as good as it feels to have Logan distracted by how good your boobs look for a bit, you need him somewhere else.

“Logan?” you ask, and he looks back up at you, a nipple still in his mouth.

“Yes?” he licks a broad stripe over your nipple as he says it, and it comes out muffled.

“Kind of need you somewhere else.”

“Oh, do you, princess?” Logan hovers over you again, leaning on one forearm as his other hand rests on your tit, and he’s smirking down at you, “Where would that be?”

You grin widely, biting your lip as you carefully take his hand off you, and bring it between your legs. You don’t even have to guide him all the way to your pussy before his hand is gone from yours and he’s cupping your wet, warm pussy.

“Here, baby?” he brings two fingers up to his mouth to suck your wetness off them, and you nod as if in a trance.

“Okay, bub, you sure?”

“Yesss, Logan,” you let out a pathetic groan of frustration, your chest vibrating with the sound.

He smirks, bringing his hand, still slick with his spit, to your cheeks and squishing them together, “You’re so adorable when you’re horny, you know that, princess?” You bat his hand away at his teasing, but your grin might be even bigger than his.

Logan finally lifts one of your legs and pushes it up against your chest, rubbing a few lazy circles on your clit before he rubs the tip of his cock through your folds. He’s doing it to tease you, but you see him lose his own composure, expression turning into a frown of neediness.

You share another quick but sloppy kiss during which you take Logan’s cock and rub it against your pussy. He only pulls away from the kiss to finally put the tip inside you.

“God,” he groans at just the first few inches, and you both calm yourself down to make sure this isn’t over immediately.

“I can take it,” you say, wrapping your arms around Logan’s neck.

“You’re my good girl, hm? Gonna take my cock? You sure?”

“Yes, Logan. Need all of it, please.”

“I got you, baby. I’ll give you anything you want.” 

Logan slides his cock inside you, inch by inch, and you both moan when he bottoms out. 

“You feel good?” He asks, and all you can do is nod. You groan, only at the fact that he’s not moving yet.

“Me too, baby, me too,” he smiles, slowly starting to move, beginning to fuck you. And he was right, he’s fucking you well. Better than anything you’ve ever felt.

He pulls out almost entirely for the first few thrusts, then stuffing you full of his big cock again, your wet pussy pulsing around him, sucking him back in. Your heart beats happily against your chest and he can feel it too; he’s slotted against your body as closely as he can be.

“Such a good girl, taking me so well. You still okay, princess?”

You grin and take his face to kiss him, his hips stilling just as he’s buried inside you as deeply as possible. You make out with him for a few seconds, pussy spasming around his uncontrollably, and you feel Logan squirm and pull out of you a bit because he doesn’t want to cum yet.

“That’s how good I feel,” you smile up at him.

Logan grins, burying his face in your neck to kiss you there as his hips begin to move again. He kisses over your jaw and your cheeks as a hand comes down to rub your clit. Together with his dick inside you, pulsing with warmth and pleasure, you suddenly feel all the energy of your body flowing between your thighs again.

You whimper against Logan’s face, your cheek catching against his.

“You close, baby?”

“Mhhm,” is the only sound you can muster as you cling to Logan, letting him fuck your pussy and play with your clit until you’re almost there.

“Such a good girl for me. Want you to cum for me, alright, princess? Gonna feel so fucking good, yeah?”

Your response is a whimper against his lips as you let go, and pleasure floods your body. Your pussy clenches around Logan’s dick, and while he’s still rubbing your clit, fucking you through your orgasm, he cums.

Logan cums so much you’re not sure where your orgasm ends and his begins, but you know you don’t stop feeling good until he’s drained until the last drop and your pussy is stuffed full with his cum.

You both slow down bit by bit, breathless and grinning at each other, not letting go. When Logan brings his hand back up between your faces, it’s slick with your wetness and covered in his cum, and you take his wrist to guide him towards your face.

You look Logan in the eyes as you suck his and your cum off his fingers, one by one, and Logan kisses you the second you’re done.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he whispers in your ear, slowly pulling out of you and pulling you into his arms when he lies down.

“Thank you,” you respond shyly, unsure what to say. You’re too happy to pay attention to your words.

“I’m always here for you, baby. You know that. And as soon as you’re ready to move on, I’ll take you on the best date of your life, okay?”

You grin, kissing his lips, “Okay. And until then?”

“Until then I’ll eat that pretty pussy of yours every evening, and you can sleep in my bed whenever you don’t feel like being alone. Sound good?”

You wrap your arms around his neck, cuddling against his chest, your heart warm and happy as you feel yourself getting tired, “Sounds good.”

P.S. thank you for reading <3 reblog and let me know what you liked most about this fic for Logan to come and eat your pussy out every night <3

[honey-tongued-devil]

[Arcane preference] reacting to their s/o wearing parfum

As usual, if you'd like to read more of my work, I have an ongoing Arcane fanfiction, Everytime It Rains (based on the alternative timeline). Click here! to read it. As for this headcanon, I had run out of my perfume stash and just restocked with Scandal, Black Opium, Honey Aoud, and Bianco Latte (all sweet with vanilla notes). So, this headcanon is my way of channeling the euphoria of my perfume obsession.

socials: | INPRNT | | Tip Jar | | X | | BlueSky | | Ao3 |

Jayce:

He’s not overly sensitive to perfumes. If you spray it while in the same room as him, he doesn’t feel the need to leave because he can’t breathe.

For this very reason, it always takes him a little while—not to notice it, but to figure out where it’s coming from.

The sweeter the scent, the more likely his first assumption is that you’ve bought or baked something sweet while he wasn’t around.

When you laugh and tell him there are no sweets and it’s your new perfume, he’s a little embarrassed but in a sweet, endearing way.

He’ll hug you, press his nose into the crook of your neck, and take in as much of the scent as he can to memorize it.

He doesn’t have issues with any scent. Sweeter ones make him sniff you more often because they make his mouth water, while spicier, “evening” notes are something he enjoys when you’re resting against him.ù

Viktor:

He’s very sensitive to perfumes; freshly sprayed scents give him headaches and make him feel short of breath.

This is probably a lingering effect from Zaun—his body reacts viscerally the moment the air isn’t clean and well-oxygenated.

That doesn’t mean he doesn’t appreciate it. You just need to let the alcohol component fade a bit before getting close to him, or at least spray it in another room.

He’s a bit more reserved than others; he’ll sniff it from your wrist while holding it lightly.

“Mh… yes, I’ve always dreamed of being in a relationship with a pastry shop.”

“You mean a pastry chef.”

“No, I know what I said.”

Ekko:

This man is a truffle dog; he notices the moment you arrive with a different scent.

His talent is playing it cool, becoming flirtier, and acting like a caricature of a gentleman trying to court you.

He prefers spicier scents to sweeter ones. If you wear something with vanilla notes, he’ll tease you, saying you smell like “the cake served by a Piltie’s servants,” but he doesn’t actually dislike it.

If a mission is particularly bad or he has a bad feeling about the day, he’ll ask you to spray some of your perfume on a handkerchief he keeps in his pocket, so he can hold on to your scent and feel closer to you.

Vander:

You could spray it directly into his nose, and he couldn’t care less. With the bar, he’s used to strong smells from cleaning products, spirits, and late-night disasters.

The alcohol in perfumes doesn’t bother him.

The downside is that he doesn’t notice it right away—he just doesn’t pay attention to it.

He generally tries to give you his full attention, but these little details sometimes slip past him. When you point it out, he’ll immediately try to make up for it if he remembers noticing something different in the air that day.

He’ll sniff it from your neck, slowly moving downward, justifying it as “trying to see how it blends with your natural scent.”

Silco (old man):

He prefers bold perfumes with character, like amber or woody scents, and finds excessively sweet ones rather childish.

He won’t hesitate to share this opinion in front of you.

He’s the kind of man who enjoys tobacco, wears Acqua di Giò, drinks warm whiskey—in short, he favors bitter and spicy notes.

But that won’t stop him from quickly growing accustomed to the scent he initially disliked so much, the one that makes you recognizable even as you ascend the stairs.

He’ll look for something similar or with complementary notes to gift you himself, though he’ll never admit that he’s come to appreciate it.

Silco (young man):

It’s rare for there to be an occasion to wear perfume, which is why the same evening you show up at the bar wearing it, he notices immediately.

He doesn’t have a particular preference for perfumes. But his love language is sarcasm, so regardless, he’ll make an ironic (but not mean) comment before telling you it suits you.

When you’re away, he’ll look for a piece of your clothing with the strongest scent to sleep with so he can feel close to you. When he’s the one far away, he’ll ask you to give him something, anything, with a bit of your scent on it.

He won’t sniff you in public—only when you’re alone, in private.

Jinx:

She loves sweet scents and hates bitter or overly amber ones.

“You smell like a pastry.”

The sweeter the perfume, the more likely you’ll catch her sniffing you or your things, just a moment before she clutches her stomach, whining about craving chocolate, caramel, or something sweet.

She’ll ask for a spritz of your perfume too, so she can smell as if “she just walked out of a bakery.” too

She prefers when you spray it in her hideout or in one of her rooms, so it clings to things and improves the overall smell.

Vi:

She doesn’t notice it right away because it’s not the sort of thing she pays attention to.

On one hand, she doesn’t love perfumes or anything that covers up natural scents. She prefers your smell—your skin’s scent—the one that drives her wild.

On the other hand, perfume is a fancy thing that hasn’t been much of a reality in her life, except for the cologne Vander used to wear.

Which was suffocating because he always overdid it.

She prefers spicier scents over sweet ones but doesn’t dislike anything.

She’ll kiss your hand and offer her arm, mimicking a fancy Piltover couple, babbling nonsense about non-existent upcoming galas and the finest shoe polish brands.

Caitlyn:

“How does she react?” When? When she’s accompanying you to buy it?

If you’re torn between more than one perfume, she’ll buy you the other without letting you know.

She notices immediately when you wear it, smiles at you, lifts your face, and kisses you with the unspoken understanding that this small indulgence is your personal little secret.

Those days tend to heat up quickly, often ending on the bed before you even realize it.

For the most important evenings, she’ll suggest which one you should wear.

Mel:

She hates overly sweet perfumes, finding them suffocating and cloying.

She doesn’t overdo her own perfume either, spraying twice into the air and walking through the mist so it’s not too strong or unnatural.

She prefers it once it’s already faded, so she can still breathe when she kisses you.

Ultimately, she’ll grow accustomed to whatever you wear. Sure, she’d prefer a citrusy or more floral scent, but as long as it’s on you, anything is acceptable.

Sevika:

She prefers none at all. She likes the natural scent of skin, whether it’s faint or strong.

She finds perfumes draw too much attention.

She’d never tell you this outright, though. However, if your perfume is too sweet, she’ll tease you, saying she didn’t realize she was dating a brioche. If it’s too strong and bitter, she’ll joke that you’re giving her PTSD and making her feel like she’s at work.

She doesn’t mind when you wear it on nights out together, because if someone notices the scent and turns around, they’ll see you’re with her.

[mistyorchid]

Logan's Girl

Old Man!Logan x fem!reader

summary: A sentimental anniversary gift for Logan reveals your biggest insecurity—saying three vulnerable words. inspired by this ask :) warnings: MDNI, no use of y/n, fluff, some suggestive elements (gets a little steamy you guyss), established relationship, age gap, reader is 21+, insecure!reader, pet names (baby, darlin', bub, doll), I'm a hopeless romantic. wc: 1.8k

This wasn’t you. It couldn’t be. The figure swathed in delicate lingerie has to be a figment of your imagination, a misty apparition in the mirror. Surely, you were staring back at a different woman’s face. You wanted to wrap yourself in something sheer, something to heighten the overwhelming feeling of sensuality that you had learned to love and trust.

It was unbearable to watch him leave the warm oasis of your bed every night. “‘M sorry, baby. Gotta take this shift,” he sighed. He ghosted the words happy anniversary against your lips before pulling a velvet box from under the nightstand. Logan marveled at how your eyes shined just as bright as the pearlescent necklace.

You blush as you remember how his strong hands gently traced your collarbones before fastening the dainty jewelry around your neck. The romantic gesture made your heart swell with pride in being his.

He had been somewhat of a lone cowboy before you met; indulging in alcohol and one-night stands in dive bar bathrooms. You managed to rope him in and cement his life in something tangible. Every time you heard the iron door rattle against the smelting plant’s walls, you prayed to the night sky to protect him from harm.

Logan chastised your insistence on feeling so immensely—he often joked that your emotional sensitivity was a hallmark of “your generation,” a crack meant to be salved and fortified. He knew, however, that your concern for his mental well-being stemmed from a place of genuine concern.

It’s been four hours since Logan crossed the threshold of your home onto the organic gravel of the earth. An unbearable void in your heart that called for him to return is soured by an uneasy wave of dread stemming from your current predicament.

It looks like the Hallmark Channel rented your bedroom for an intoxicatingly sweet, PG-13 love scene. Although, your thoughts bordered on NC-17. The sap didn’t stop there. A fresh trail of rose petals was scattered on the floor, leading from the front door to a glossy, heart-shaped box of truffles on your bed.

Skittish tendrils of insecurity creep up your body until a surge of warmth festers behind your cheeks. In the time it took to pace a hundred laps around the bedroom, two more hours passed. A harsh clanging sound reverberates against your brain. You pray that it’s a figment of your imagination, a temporary symptom of your shame-induced anxiety.

Logan haphazardly kicks off his boots while loosening his tie. “I’m home, darlin’!”

Shit. You're totally fucked. That is the plan, but hearing Logan’s heavy steps against the linoleum floor sends you into an irrational frenzy. Your body reacts faster than your mind, quickly darting around the room to turn off the lights and dive under the comforter. “Great,” you whisper into the sheets. The room is pitch black except for the warm flicker of candles artfully placed on the nightstands. You wonder if Logan would find the dimly lit interior sexy or off putting. Surely, hiding under the covers like a goddamn vampire would get him rock hard.

He knocks to the tune of Shave and a haircut—two bits, a classic rhythm almost as old as him. Geriatric fucker.

“You decent?” he inquires. Two years together, and he still asks permission to open a closed door. He raised your standards for how a man should act from the depths of hell to the gates of heaven. He’s unbearably traditional sometimes, and you love it.

You wonder, then, why you regret the scent of lavender that lingers in the air. It’s a fragrant piece of evidence that smells too much like I love you. It was easy to lose yourself in the warm embrace of his body, molding yourself to his wandering hands. This display of romantic affection was too sappy, even for you.

“Yeah, come in,” you exhale before burrowing into the warmth of your bed. Maybe if you sink deep enough you’ll be swallowed whole.

Logan’s brows quirk upwards as he surveys the room, unable to identify the source of your voice. You know it’s time to face the music when he flicks the light on, illuminating everything.

His feet crunch softly against the petals strewn across the room, progressing towards the edge of the bed. Logan plops onto the comforter, knocking over the box of chocolates. He winces as he strains his back to retrieve it from the floor.

Logan gently peels the comforter away from your shrinking form. “What’cha doin’ under there, bub?”

You meet his eyes with a sheepish turn of your head, preparing for a judgmental gaze that would validate your insecurity. Instead, all you hear is a gruff laugh pour out of his mouth. 

“Hiding,” you reply meekly. His insistence on staring into the depths of your fucking soul is not helping. Goosebumps rise along your form as Logan slowly pulls down the rest of the blanket, finally revealing the sheer babydoll dress that clings to your breasts and floats everywhere else. 

Logan lets out a low whistle. “Jesus,” he whispers, “This for me?” 

You cross your arms over the lingerie. “Yeah, but I’m embarrassed—”

“I don’t wanna hear it,” he interrupts. Logan tugs on the end of the central ribbon until it loosens, revealing the tantalizing line of your cleavage. “Lady as lovely as you shouldn’t be embarrassed.” 

You’re quick to apologize. “I’m sorry. . .”

He stalls his hand as if he’s been burned. Your immediate reaction is to apologize again, but Logan silences you with an unabashedly needy kiss.

“Hush. I’m tryin’ to open my present.” He toys with the pearl looped around your neck, admiring how the smooth texture rolls between his calloused fingers. It serves as a familiar allusion to the duality your relationship provides—softness and raw grit intertwining to form an unbreakable union.

You bite your lip, suddenly feeling insecure under his shameless gaze. “Logan?”

“Yeah?” He drops the pearl charm and grazes your chest, smirking when he hears your breath hitch. It’s almost unsettling, how fast you unravel for him.

“How was work?” You inquire, hoping it convinces Logan to focus on your face instead of your exposed skin.

He hastily removes all of his clothes save for his boxers before tossing them onto the floor. “Same shit, different day,” he mutters. The days are long, the nights even longer. You never talked about the gruesome collage of wounds and overworked scar tissue that plagued his skin. Over time, he leaned into your healing presence, allowing himself to dissolve under the tender insistence of your care.

You giggle. “Miss me?”

Logan lovingly pats your hip with an outstretched palm—a familiar signal that he wants to take up prime real estate in your bed. The more, the merrier.

He shuffles under the covers and pulls your body parallel against his own. You shiver as his lips hover over the shell of your ear.

“‘Course I did,” Logan sighs. He draws comforting patterns along the length of your arm, effectively luring a subtle shudder from your parted lips.  “Heart’s poundin’, baby—You’re breathin’ awful fast. Gives me the impression this feelin’s mutual.”

The night is quiet, laced with an unspoken yearning. A wave of anxiety tells you to move, to seek shelter somewhere else, in someone else—an anonymous man who doesn’t know anything about you other than the fact that you’re a warm body. You bury yourself into Logan instead, feeding into the restlessness that radiates throughout your soul.

He hums into your neck. The sound is so domestic that your heart aches and blooms all over again.

Logan curses as he feels your hips subtly rock back into his sturdy frame. “I guess it is,” you agree. His palm caresses the strong curve of your jaw before turning your head towards him.

The hazel pools of his eyes have borrowed the depth of the night sky. He speaks in a reserved, yet ravenous tone.

“C’mon, darlin’. Gimme some sugar,” he mumbles against your lips. You comply, not because he ordered you to, but because his insistence washes away any feelings of doubt that sullied your mind.

An airy sigh echoes throughout the room, silently parting the air and ricocheting against Logan’s sensitive eardrums. He wraps his arm around your soft stomach, earning a faint whine. “Stop, Logan,” you plead. Cheesy anniversary gifts aside, one constant source of insecurity was your belly. Logan absolutely adored it, but you loathed the physical evidence of your sweet tooth.

“Yes, ma’am,” he says while shifting his warm palm to rest on your hip. “But don’tcha love it when you’re soft an’ I’m—” Logan pulls your ass flush against his noticeable bulge. “—hard?” He continues. You feel his smirk melt into the open expanse of your neck.

You allow yourself to be manhandled by Logan. It takes your breath away every time, cliche phrasing be damned. He uses his firm grip to turn you around until you’re face-to-face with his stupidly rugged . . . face. Ugh. You don’t know what’s come over you.

Logan’s warmth is all-encompassing. His hand wanders along your body before lightly caressing the back of your head to bring you further into his embrace. You let out a soft hum that vibrates against his chest.

A few minutes pass without any words at all. This is Logan’s comfort zone—intentional silence that gives him the space to communicate with action. The only difference now is that he indulges in quietude as a form of serenity rather than hostility.

“Hey . . .” he whispers. “You fallin’ asleep?” Each tender swipe of his hand flushes your cheeks.

“Mhm,” you affirm, faintly nodding. “I’m sorry, Logan. I really wanted to give you your present.”

He quickly kneads the tense folds of your furrowed brow. Logan exhales into the peak of your hairline. “Don’t worry, doll. ‘M tired too.”

You let out a sigh that’s deeper and more sustained than Logan’s. You don’t have to look down to know that he’s still hard. A tell-tale sign of his sensual pull towards you blooms behind his chest in a kinetic rhythm. He keeps you close, everywhere except near his bulge. What a gentleman. 

Your eyes open, quietly searching in the dark for the motivation to speak, to be faithful. As much as you adore Logan, you both find it difficult to verbalize your feelings.

“I love you . . .” you whisper, directed into the ceiling and stars beyond it instead of towards Logan. 

His palm finds your jaw again. He hovers inches away from your face, allowing your breaths to meet and interlace. An inaudible request to connect. 

The kiss is unbelievably earnest. You find shelter against the plush of Logan’s lips. He leans his forehead against yours, once again playing with the pearl necklace wrapped around your neck.

“I love you.”

You have matching smiles. The allure of rest is renewed once Logan lets out a loud yawn. Then, laughter fills the room.

The last thing you hear before succumbing to sleep is, “Happy anniversary, doll.”

His pet name for you is apt. Cared for, admired, cherished. 

Logan’s girl.

an: It's been a while. Thank you anon for sending in this lovely request. I decided to not include smut because I wanting to portray something a little more wholesome than usual. These are real lines of comic dialogue that also inspired me. "Lady as lovely as you shouldn’t ever frown." "Heart’s poundin’, Jeannie—You’re breathin’ awful fast. Gives me the impression this feelin’s mutual. Wanna bet?"

tag list: @bratscave @elflutter @fairiebabey @pointyxsole @scorpiosaintt @th3mrskory

[icarusredwings]

Thinking about how adaptive Logan is and how he can quite physically tell the difference between people even if they look identical by chemical scent alone.

With being around Wade so much, do you ever think he just gets a whiff of a stranger and turns to Wade like "Hey.. I think... they have cancer."

For a second, he thinks he's mocking him, but the look of seriousness on his face makes him frown and is like, "Holy shit.. Wait, you can smell cancer?? What are you like a cancer dog?"

"Shut up, im serious."

"Wait for real? Are you sure it's just not old lady perfume?"

"I-i think so...?? ....Should.... should I tell her? Oh man.. how do I tell a stranger that they have a horrible disease?"

Wades is about to make a joke but decides not to, remembering how life ruining it was to sit there and stare at vanessa as the doctor sounded like charlie browns parents.

"... where is it?"

"I don't know. I just.. I think maybe in the top bit? What would I even say? Hey, im a super smelling mutant, and I think you have breast cancer."

".. yes."

"Really?"

"You have to tell her... She'll get scared if I tell her."

So he does. Awkwardly comes up to this woman and explains some bullshit how he was 'born with super smells' and how he believes she might have some form of cancer. That- if she acts early enough- they might be able to beat it.

For some reason, the woman cries and tells him how this would make sense because shes felt sick the last couple of weeks and had no clue why. That she'll make an appointment as soon as possible. "Thank you."

Logan is left with a warm feeling in his chest, and smiles lopsided as she goes about her day.

Wade is left feeling both envious and proud at the same time. No, there wasn't a wolverine to warn him of his sickness, but this doesn't mean they can't help others.

So from then on, sniffing becomes an automatic reflex, sniffing all the kids at the mansion, class by class, every teacher, anyone he possibly can. It breaks his heart when he finds one. Everyone holds their breath, hoping he doesn't, but sometimes he does. He always cries afterward.

You know those drug/ weapon dog searches that schools sometimes have? Yeah that's bassically what happens except he pops a head in, says a quick "clear" and goes to the next room. Its real terrifying when he actually comes into the room and starts walking around.

This being said. If you're sneaking drugs into the school? You better be tight with Mr. Howlett, or he's turning you in to Mrs. Munroe.

[emacrow]

Damian and the Dumpster baby.

Damian was doing patrols, with a bit of a minor rescuing and feeding the strays animals until he heard a noise from a dumpster.

Tonight was going to be a storm coming, and he rather check up on the strays, feed them, fixing any of the secure hiding places he put out for them for rain occasionally, and try to smuggle 1 or 6 into the barn again without Father knowing. Alfred can keep a secret sometimes.

Jumping on the edge of the dumpster to see a plastic bag tied up on the pile of trash with something squirming inside, alive obviously. Oh if this another group of puppies, he going to find the culprit himself and break their kneecaps and arms this time.

Easily untying the plastic bag and opening to reveal.. a little baby.

Not a kitten or a puppy, a living breathing human baby, cut and tied umbilical and a pale with a unique birth mark in a shape of a lichtenberg from his tiny hand fading to his chest.

This..

This was out of Damian's comfort line.

He had dealt with saving animals, people, children, hell even toddlers. He never dealt with a baby before much less a newborn.

He could panic later as he hear the sounds of a storm brewing. Carefully picking up the baby by the back of the head and and by the body, using his cape to as a blanket to cover the obvious nudity of the baby. Climbing onto his Red Robin theme Doom Buggy.

Taking care of a baby is no different then taking care of a baby animal, right?

.....

.....

.....

.....

He got caught after 5 month and a half by Alfred during feeding Danyal time, while scolded him about hiding the baby instead of coming to him.

He had a good reason to though, last time he told Alfred about the last newest addition, Bruce sended the Jafar the Ligor to a sanctuary. He still felt betrayed by that.(even though now Jafar is happily spending his days with the other mixed big cat breed but still)

He done a good enough job taking care of Danyal, even though he had to secretly look up baby stuff, medicine, clothes, a soft bedded cot and diapers.(the smell was much less worse then the sewer) he considered himself a great care-taker.(even though in the back of his mind, he feared that he might had unlocked that genetic adopt-bat bait traits that Dick warned him about)

Damian had gotten.. a bit attached, considering the idea of putting danyal in orphanage or a foster care wasn't ideal afterall the corrupted ones that Father and him had broken through over the years left a bad gut feeling if he had actually gone through with his plan. Danyal was one of his babies, only not covered in fur, scales, or a shell.

And he didn't do everything all on his own, Cass was the only who figured it out, kept it a secret and help out.. then steph found out... and Jason, Tim and Duke unfortunately found out after Cass and steph snuck danyal in the manor for a nice bath.

Only reason Dick didn't found out because everyone know he can't keep a secret away from Bruce's ear for long after found out Jason's new girlfriend was the new therapist in Gotham, and telling Bruce would feed his adopt-holic again and he end up having baby fever. (Tim didn't tell him what that word meant but he did look it up in a baby care guide book for new parents. And EW)

They were going to wait it out til Danyal was at least toddler age before sneaking him in the manor to gatekeep gaslight girlboss Father into thinking he already adopted him. (Steph's words, not his)

New post <-

[simplyreveries]

I ADORE YOUR WRITING!!

what about a reader who’s unknowingly flirting with the twst wonderland cast (specifically savanclaw, octanaville and diasomnia) because of culture differences and species differences?

e.g petting their ears, giving them gifts, smiling with teeth (bc for moray eels that’s how they mate 👀)

OR fem reader who has her period and some of the twst students can smell it I LITERALLY HAD A NIGHTMARE ABOUT THIS 😭😭😭😭

OMLL I APPRECIATE ITTT!!! sorry for the wait!!! i chose some from each dorm bc of my character limit btw!!

azul ashengrotto

despite how much azul continues to do his best to learn about life on land… relationships are certainly difficult for him to understand sometimes considering how long he has spent his life in the sea and though there are many similarities between merpeople… there are still some differences. once azul is rather close to you he does become unintentionally— clingy with you. (when you two officially get together that's another story) but he has a habit of wanting to lean close to you or have a hand on you in some way, like on the small of your back when showing you something in the mostro lounge.

so needless to say, he is in love with any sort of touch from you he takes that as some sort of hope and sign that you reciprocate how he feels haha. jade and floyd tease him ALL the time about it especially when he was struggling to keep his cool-headed composure after you once gave him a hug after he did something to help you once.

like I've said azul really doesn't think about it or even try to be this way around you he just does aljdfajdkhf. he’ll feel like a smitten fool as he sits in the vip lounge as he's doing papers and just think about how you playfully linked your arm around his to bring him somewhere. small things like that are actually quite big to him when it comes down to the differences.

jade leech

he's aware you probably don't know that you're unknowingly flirting with him, but he finds it amusing and plays along with you, nevertheless. he thinks it's cute that you don't know and all the more enticing, you’ll find him chuckling, trying to hide his grin with his gloved hand “oh my, I didn't know you liked me that much fufu” he’d say. you can't help but feel confused as to what he finds so interesting… like you literally just yawned.

it'll take him a while to actually tell you what it means since he finds the obliviousness to be quite cute. you only put two and two together when he tells floyd about what you did right in front of him and the two laugh about it. now you've got floyd teasing u about it..

like azul he is a little more affectionate just in a different more. in a less obvious fashion, though there definitely have been a few occasions where he likes to bring your hand to his lips and see your reaction, he finds it so amusing. he always has his teethy grin plastered on his face.

leona kingscholar

he hates the way he can always tell when you're wearing cologne or perfume and he hates that he likes it as well, he may or may not be a bit addicted to your scent. he literally can tell if you're near just because he knows the damn fragrance you use.

if you two are particuarly close... like him falling asleep around you and such. if you happen to pet his head and his ears, he immediately shoots you this look then mumbles something before being too tired to do anything about it or give you some retort. he just lets it happen... he does enjoy it anyway. slowly he kinda doesnt realize how clingy he can get with you because of it. he becomes a little needy and wanting more attention from you. he cant help it.... i mean you basically just showed him that you're fine with it anyways.

leona seems to be someone who can get pretty possessive, unintentionally too over you. kind of territorial, like if you're someone he has eyes for then he doesn't expect others to really get in the way of that.

malleus draonica

malleus is not only a fae but a pretty sheltered one too, I’d think he’d take almost anything from you as a sign of you being completely infatuated with him as he is with you. you could offer split your ice cream or invite him out somewhere, show any sort of interest in him as he talks about gargoyles as he’s doing single club activities. the one time you asked curiously and wanted to touch his horns, he’d be searching for the loveliest jewel to bestow you for your wedding day.

speaking of jewels… he gifts to you a lot especially after you give him anything first (it could be a cool rock you found) and he’d be so smitten and glad to reciprocate that by giving you earrings, rings, necklaces etc. and when you accept them even though you're not exactly fully understanding why he takes it even more as a sign of you accepting his advances.

after taking any of your little acts of being somewhat kind to him and he’s already so deeply into you, lilia would certainly be someone who hears just all about it. i think he would only feel happy for malleus, as it appears he must’ve found the right one. he is just supportive of malleus and is simply overjoyed to know he has some little human that makes him so happy.

lilia vanrouge

he has lived long enough and in different places to understands human courting's and more so than someone like malleus. he knows how different it is, trust me he is fully aware, but he thinks it's amusing. lilia pretends to take it the wrong way and watch you get all confused, when he's just being playful.

just cant help that he finds it so adorable when you unknowingly show him affections as a fae would in his culture. even just being slightly affectionate with him is enough to have him giggling and warning you to be careful to what fae you do that to. they do tend to take very kindly towards any affections and gifts!

lilia will straight up tell you though too, you could gift him and give him something neat you found or made, and he'd look up at you with a stupid grin like "kfufu... i accept your love, dear" NO???. he still holds onto anything from you with the utmost joy.

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

Outlier

You're the exception to everything Jason Todd knows about himself. He'll deal with that later. ~1.2k words

Jason Todd doesn't smile a lot. But with you it comes easy. It wasn't anything big that drew his awareness to the fact. You were just folding laundry with him while your favorite show played in the background.

It wasn't grand. It wasn't life changing. But he's grinning with all of his teeth, and he can't seem to wipe the expression off his face.

It's stupid, really, because all you did was offer to fold the sheets so he didn't have to. And now he's giddy. He'd be embarrassed, but he's too distracted by the melody you're humming softly.

He decides to be embarrassed about it later.

Jason doesn't talk a lot about himself. He talks to people, sure, talks a lot about cases and crime, and Gotham and the mission. But the deep and dirty personal stuff? He shies away from it.

Well, that's not completely true. Not with you.

He's talking about himself now, your head on his shoulder as you stare out at the city from the rooftop. He's not patrolling tonight, and you insisted on a picnic dinner to enjoy what's left of summer.

It's peaceful, and he hooks an arm around your back when you tug his hoodie tighter around yourself, staving off the slight chill in the air. He rambles a little more, he can't help it, he always wants to talk with you, listen to you.

He'd be insecure if you weren't so obviously engaged, prompting him to keep talking and sharing your own thoughts.

He decides to second guess himself later, and enjoy the shining lights of Gotham for now.

Jason doesn't hug a lot, but you're his exception. A hug hello, a hug goodbye, a thank you hug, a 'I'm glad you're okay' hug.

He cherishes them, wraps you up against him, and doesn't let go until he starts to worry he's making you uncomfortable. He'd probably never let go if he wasn't so scared of seeming desperate to hold you.

It's not– he doesn't mean anything by it, really. There's not anything more to it.

You're just warm, soft, and you smell like you. And Jason doesn't know anything more calming and soothing than you. So, if he craves the hugs you so freely give, isn't that okay? Wouldn't anyone feel the same?

He decides to wallow in his worries later, and focuses on the way you let him bury his face against your shoulder.

Jason knows a lot of things. Things about the world, life, people, space. Things anyone else would never even be the slightest bit curious about. But, sometimes, he just doesn't know what to do with you.

It's infuriating, the way you seem to care more about others' safety than your own.

There was no reason for you to go back into fire to try and help people out. There was no reason to put yourself in danger when he was right there to take care of it.

He has no idea what was going through your head when he hauled you out of the burning building. He would have dragged you by the back of your neck if it meant you just listened to him. If, for just a second, you considered that you could have died.

The thought makes him sick. The churning of his stomach isn't enough to distract from the angry look on your face. He wonders if he was too rough with you. He can't bring himself to regret it if he was when you start coughing from the smoke.

He knows he's too rough, this time, when he pushes you towards the paramedics and heads back to the fire.

He can break down later, throw his lunch up into the toilet later, because he's always too rough. But right now? He has a job to do.

Jason fights a lot. Breaks the bones of criminals, beats bruises onto thugs, shoots bullet holes into goons. But, he doesn't really fight with you. Tonight's different.

He doesn't think you should be so angry at him. He pulled you out of a raging inferno, after all. If anything, you should be giving him one of your hugs.

You're not doing that, though. Your face is scrunched up, and you're livid, and he can practically feel the tension between you two like a physical wall. He wishes he knew the right words to say that will make you see his side.

You accuse him of thinking you can't take care of yourself. (He's fully aware you can) You tell him he was reckless to go back into the fire. (You did it first!)

You snap that he was more preoccupied with pulling you out when there were other people in danger. (Duh. You're his priority. You could have had both feet out the door, and he still would have carried you out before anyone else)

You look completely fed up by the time you're done with your rant, and he's pretty sure he's only making the situation worse because he hasn't given you an answer.

It's not that he doesn't want to, it's just he doesn't have anything to say.

He wouldn't change what he did. He's sorry he upset you. But he's never been good with words or apologies, not even with you.

So he doesn't say a thing, just stares at you with clenched fists while he waits for the inevitable order for him to leave.

And he really is prepared to leave. He's surprised it hasn't happened sooner. He'll hate it. He'll probably even do something stupid over it. But he wouldn't force the weight that is his company on you.

He'll accept that this is what changes what he is to you. At least, he'll try. Later. Right now, he's focused on not crying as the silence drones on.

Your voice calling his name cuts through his thoughts, and his gaze snaps back up to yours. He hadn't even realized he'd dropped it. You step forward, and he braces himself for what's to come. The end of this. You and him.

But the end doesn't come. You cup his face– cradle his face and ask him why he looks so miserable.

Jason's good at running. Good at burying his emotions. He has to be. But you don't look angry anymore. You look concerned. You looked more worried than you did when he was last bleeding out onto your couch. So he spills his guts.

He stumbles out how he's too rough and too wrong and he knew you'd want him gone eventually but he's not ready to go and could you please just forgive him this once for not being what you needed him to be?

He waits for you to push him away. You don't. His shoulder slump when you wrap your arms around his waist and hug him so tightly that he has no choice but to believe that you want him to stay.

He doesn't hesitate to latch onto you and mumble nonsense into your hair. Promises that he'll be better. Different. Whatever you need.

You tuck yourself closer to his chest and tell him you don't need him to be anyone else but him. The rest of your reassurances are muffled into the fabric of his clothes when he clutches you tighter.

Jason isn't very good at admitting his feelings. But he wants to. With you.

He'll figure it out later. But for right now, he lets himself sink deeper into your hug, and all the serenity you bring.

[kusanagi-haruno]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ NIGHTS LIKE THIS !

ఌ sum: Ever since Gojo saw you, he’s been nothing but love struck. And as time passes, you find yourself feeling the same.

wc: 3.2K

Warnings: Fem!reader, Gojo is basically obsessed with you, Uni AU, Modern AU, Eventual smut, Porn w plot, Making out, Oral (F receiving), P in V sex, Light choking, Praising, Pet names: Pretty girl, beautiful, sweet girl.

a/n: originally this was written for my friend with a different character, but I decided to change it to gojo so I can post it here for you lovelies :)!!!!

Lovestruck Gojo! who forgot how to breathe when he first saw you enter the lecture the first day. His eyes raked over your form, taking in every detail from when you first entered through the door to when you sat down. He bit the inside of his cheek when he saw you sit a few rows in front of him. He ignored the stinging pain that followed after biting the wall of his mouth, too entranced by you to even care.

Lovestruck Gojo! who grew more frustrated as the weeks passed. He cursed his inability to go up to you and just talk. The way your lips seemed to shine every time he looked at them, how the outsides of your eyes creased when you smiled just made him so nervous.

Lovestruck Gojo! who swears his prayers finally have been answered when you two were paired up for a project. He sat up a little bit straighter when the professor announced your name next to his. He swore the sun shined a little bit brighter that day.

Lovestruck Gojo! who’s heart raced when he noticed you make your way towards him at the end of the lecture. He pretended not to notice you, which was hard because he knows he’s noticed just about everything you had to offer. His heart raced when he heard your voice speak to him, in his head was a million thoughts scrambling through his mind.

Lovestruck Gojo! who’s voice cracked when he spoke his first words to you. “I’m sorry?” He questioned when he realized he didn’t respond to you. “Want to exchange contacts? It’ll be easier to keep in touch this way,” he heard you ask. It felt like his breath got caught in his throat, the softness, the perfection of your voice paralyzed him. He knew he had to answer this time, he had to make a good first impression.

Lovestruck Gojo! who hurriedly agreed to give you his number. After that brief conversation, he watched you walk away. He swore his heart would jump out of his chest any moment now, however he wouldn’t even be mad, not when the reason his heart was beating was because of you.

Lovestruck Gojo! who swears he’s on cloud nine. Ever since the both of you have been partnered up for that project, the both of you have slowly gotten closer and closer. Everyday he would wake up with one thought in his mind, you. When he got ready for your guys’ daily meet up to slowly progress on the project, he made sure to look his very best. He always double checked to see if his hair was laid correctly, that his teeth looked white as ever, and that his clothes smelled perfect.

Lovestruck Gojo! who silently congratulated himself every time he made you laugh. Sometimes you would catch him staring, but you found yourself not being bothered by it one bit. You couldn’t deny that you undoubtedly caught feelings for the man in front of you during the time you guys spent together. You found yourself blushing everytime he remembered your coffee order, even more so when he paid for it everytime.

Lovestruck Gojo! who felt like his world was destroyed when the project came to an end. He should’ve felt any form of happiness, but he couldn’t. Not when he had no excuse to see you anymore. When he rolled over in his bed, he felt like sinking into it just to never come out again.

Lovestruck Gojo! who groaned when he heard his phone buzz signaling he got a notification. He silently debated on ignoring it, almost positive it was a random notification from a random app. Although he twisted and turned, soon facing his phone on the nightstand beside him with a small hope that maybe, maybe, you texted him.

Lovestruck Gojo! whose heart went from 0 to 100 the moment he saw it was you who texted him. He immediately opened the notification and read your text, he smiled so hard that it hurt. “Party tn, wanna come? We can let loose a little as a little celebration for finishing that stupid project :).”

Lovestruck Gojo! who never got ready so fast in his life before. He made sure to reply to your text before doing so, he’d rather die than have you think he purposefully ignored you.

Lovestruck Gojo! who had no idea just how fast your heart was beating. Your friends pressured you into texting him, knowing just how much you liked him. You didn’t know whether to curse them out or hug them, but the thought diminished as soon as you saw he replied to you, agreeing to come.

Lovestruck Gojo! who felt the same as he first did the very first second he saw you when he saw you tonight, in front of him. He clenched his fists when he took note just how many other men were in the same building as you, almost hard enough to draw blood. All negative feelings vanished when he locked eyes with you, and instead new ones blossomed. He took note how you styled your hair, and wore a little more makeup than usual. His eyebrows furrowed when he thought that you wanted to look good for somebody else.

Lovestruck Gojo! who slowly lost himself in your eyes. The both of you agreed to dance with each other, mirroring each other's smiles. He lost track of time, not that he cared though. The only thing he cared about was the feeling of your arms around his neck, your eyes looking right at him and fuck the glossiness of your lips. Everything about you was perfect, and he wanted to kill every man who looked at you tonight.

Lovestruck Gojo! whose body felt like it was on fire right now. He doesn’t know who leaned first, but he couldn’t give a fuck about that. Not when the feeling over your soft, plushy lips against his sent his mind, body, and soul to heaven and back. He could only focus on the small, shaky breaths that escaped your lips when he sucked particularly hard, and fuck he loved it more than he should. What’s new though, he always loved you way more than the normal amount.

Lovestruck Gojo! who almost whined when you finally broke the kiss, but what you said after instantly made up for it. “Wanna get out of here?” He didn’t know how a person could be so fucking adorable, but you break his expectations everyday.

His silently nodded, little pants escape his lips as you take his hand and lead him out of the party.

As soon as the two of you barely make it to your dorm, you’re pushed up against the door. You let out a gasp when your head meets the firmness of your dorm door, but quickly the pain turns into pleasure when he takes the opportunity of your opened mouth to slide his tongue into your mouth.

You feel his hands touch every part of your body, trying to memorize every part of you. You hear him chuckle against your lips when you let out soft whines when he touches a particularly sensitive spot, and fuck did that make you wet.

“Such a fucking pretty girl,” he mumbles into your mouth. You let out a whine at the praise, your hands resting against his firm chest. His hands rest on your hips, squeezing them whenever he finds himself feeling too much of everything.

He often found himself denying that you were real, but you were here, under his touch, kissing him. Him, of all people. If he told his past self that he’d up like this with you, his past self would laugh, or faint, either or.

You find yourself slowly backing up until you hit your bed with him looming over you. The both of you take a second to just look at each other, a million things spoken with just one look. Both of your eyes gazing at each other full of lust and love before leaning back into each other with more passion than before.

“G-Gojo..fuck,” you moan out as you arch your back. The man on top of you started to slowly roll his hips against yours, the feeling making pleasure flow through the entirety of your body, no area left untouched. “I- ah..I know baby I know”, he coos, feeling the same if not more.

You feel his big hands tug at your shirt, a silent demand to take it off, and you do with no hesitation. Gojo is awestruck, absolutely entranced with how beautiful you look. Every part of you is absolutely perfect, fuck he feels like the luckiest man alive right now.

He detaches his lips from yours, a small string of spit hangs between the both of you. His hands move from the side of your face to your chest, then slowly down to your hips before resting on the side of your stomach. He leaves soft kisses against different areas of your stomach as his hands roam your torso, silently worshiping your body.

“Fuck you’re so beautiful,” he praises, his thumbs stroking the sides of your torso. You let out soft airy breaths in response to his delicate touches, each kiss igniting a small flame in the same area he kissed you.

When he finally makes your way down to your waist, he looks up at you, silently asking for permission. You give him a slight nod and lift your hips to help him remove your pants. Once Gojo throws your bottoms on the floor somewhere you start to get flustered. Almost your whole body is exposed while he’s still fully dressed. Guess you’re going to have to change that.

You softly call out his name, to which he answers with a small hum. His face is near your clothed pussy, so when he hummed you felt every little bit of it. You subconsciously opened your legs to the feeling of pleasure that sparked through your body as, and let out a squeak when he places a small kiss to your clothed pussy.

“Gojo..” you whine. “Y-you’re still dressed,” you pant out. You feel him chuckle from in between your legs and you let out another small moan in response. “Aww, is my poor baby embarrassed?” He mocks, a small smirk gracing his features.

“N-no..” You mumble with a small pout, but the both of you know otherwise. Gojo quickly rids of his shirt and leans down to give you a quick peck before moving down to your pussy.

You feel your panties are wet, and he sees that they’re wet, and you should feel embarrassed but you don’t.

Gojo tears off your panties and before you can complain, he licks a long stripe from your pussy to your clit. You buck up in response to which his hands fly to your hips to hold them down. After that he makes quick work of making a mess out of you.

You release moan after moan when he repeatedly laps your clit, showing no sign of stopping. The lewd noises of your wet squelches and his sucking fill the room, along with your whimpers and his groans.

As he eats you out the small praises he drunkenly says are lost on your ears. The only thing you can focus on, can even comprehend, was the feeling of his tongue against your wet pussy and oh, the finger he slipped in your poor little pussy.

“Such a good fucking girl, taking me so well,” he praises when he sees you take his finger with no struggle. When your legs twitch he knows you're close and speeds up the thrusting of his one finger and the speed of his tongue against your clit.

“Ah, ah fuck! G-Gojo,” you scream out, so close, just one more second and…

You let out a sob when you feel his finger quickly slip out of your sobbing pussy, and the feeling of his tongue no longer working on your clit. You could almost cry at the lost orgasm.

“Y-you’re so mean,” you sniffle out. “Can’t have you cummin yet baby,” he says shakily. His breaths come out in pants, his thoughts all over the place but the only constant is you.

He leaves a trail of kisses along the inside of your thigh, sucking on them every few kisses. He mumbles soft praises in between, “You're so beautiful, my pretty girl, doing so well.”

When he decides your thighs are littered with enough marks, he moves up your body coming face to face with you. His two fingers prod at your mouth, silently telling you to open your mouth. You obey, your tongue swirling around his thick fingers, tears threatening to spill your eyes.

While you’re working on his two fingers he took the liberty of slowly rolling his hips against yours. He kisses your cheek when he removes his fingers from your mouth, and slowly trails them along your body till he reaches your pussy.

The both of your lips connect when he slowly drags his fingers lightly down your body till they stop at your entrance. He coaxes you to breathe, staring into your eyes as he teases your clit.

He starts to pump his fingers into you, your juices coating his fingers. As you start to loosen up even more he slides another finger into you. The feeling of his thick hands inside of you make you feel impossibly stretched. It feels so good, everything feels so good fuck.

As you near your orgasm you pull him close to you, whimpering and panting wanting, needing to finish as his fingers ruthlessly attack the spongy spot inside your pussy.

“Pleasepleaseplease,” you whine fucked out on his fingers. “Please Gojo let me cum,” you lean in to kiss him but he pulls back, teasing you. He pretends to think, already knowing the answer. “You’ve been such a good girl,” he growls out. Matching his thrusts with his words. “Guess I should let you,” he finishes and kisses you.

His fingers speed up making your legs twitch as you reach your climax. Your moans are beautiful against his ears, he can never get enough of you. You’re so perfect.

You call out his name when you cum, your juices spraying out and coating his fingers. He slows down his tempo to help you ride through your orgasm, swallowing your cute little pants and whines.

“How’s my sweet girl doing?” He coos, cupping your cheek and using his thumb to caress the side of your face. You lean into his touch, still blissfully fucked out on his fingers. You let out a hum to signal you’re still with him.

Red coats your cheeks when you hear him say that you taste so fucking good. You use both of your hands to grasp on his forearm that’s attached to the hand on your cheek. “Mm Gojo,” you softly whisper out his name, not completely sure what the real goal was. You just wanted to say his name.

“I know baby, I know,” he quickly places a peck on your forehead before leaning back and quickly undoing his belt and jeans, leaving him in his boxers. Still in your fucked out state you don’t notice just how big he is.

He makes quick work of his boxers, throwing them in a random corner of the room before leaning down over you. “Is this okay? Are you okay with this?” He asks, and you could almost laugh if you weren’t out of breath. Of course you were okay with this, more than okay. “Yesyesyes, just let me feel you. I want you. Please,” you breathe out, looking straight into his eyes.

And something in him just snaps.

Hearing you beg for him, how utterly desperate you sound, it’s too much, you’re too much. His feelings for you are too much. He drags you to the end of the bed and places your legs over his shoulders. He shoves your full length inside of your pussy and you cry out. He’s so big…

You barely have time to adjust before he pulls back out and slams back into you. You grip onto his back, nails scratching down the entirety of his backside. “‘Ts too much- Ah!” moan after moan fills the room, the lewd sounds of your skin slapping against each other is basically drowned out by both your cries and his grunts.

The ruthless pace he sets makes your tits bounce against his chest, and he doesn’t fail to notice. His mouth greedily sucks on one while his hand fondles the other. “Oh my god! You feel so good ah..,” the sound of your cute little moans do downright dirty things to him. It makes him want to fucking ruin you.

When he decides your right boob is marked up enough he moves to your other, spitting on it before continuing his same merciless treatment on it.

You feel like your soul left your body when one of his hands lifted your hips a bit so he could thrust deeper into you. His cock is filling every single bit of you, and your pussy is greedily sucking him in.

“Ngh..Gojo feels so good. Your cock is filling me ah! so well,” you chant out his name like a prayer.

Once he declares both of your pretty tits taken care of he wraps a hand around your throat and makes eye contact with you. “Beautiful girl..taking me so well. Perfect, you’re fucking perfect,” he praises against your lips.

Both of you are near, you can feel his cock twitching inside of you and Gojo can feel how your pretty pussy is gripping him even more tight. It’s basically calling out his name, pulsing around his dick like a needy little thing.

“Gojo!” You scream out when you cum for the second time that night. Just a few more thrusts and he releases inside of you as well, spilling his warm cum inside of you.

His pace slows as he rides out his orgasm while also helping you ride out yours. “So perfect..did so well, pretty girl, did so fucking good,” he whispers. He continues to let out sweet praises as both of you continue to catch your breath.

You weren’t sure when you closed your eyes, but when you reopened them you were now in the bath against a firm, hard chest. You close your eyes again, relishing the feeling of being relaxed against him.

Gojo on the other hand is still in awe, he can’t, will not believe that you’re here with him. Leaning against him like this has been routine for years, like you guys have been together.

He rests his cheek against your head and you softly hum. His hands gently rub incoherent shapes against your hips as the two of you seek comfort against the both of each other.

Lovestruck!Gojo who kisses the crown of your head as his arms snake around your waist. His hold tightens, and you let it.

Lovestruck! Gojo who promises himself to keep holding you like this now, and in the future. Who promises to never let you go, and you’d never dream of letting him.