#( i am living for the fluff )

[paperultra]

hammock.

Pairing: OPLA!Vinsmoke Sanji x Reader Word Count: 866 words Warnings: Kissing, slightly suggestive

“You’re blushing.”

“I am?” Sanji gazes up at you, dreamy and distracted. “I didn’t realize.”

You hum. You’re only vaguely aware of the hammock’s sway, of the blanket slipping down your shoulders as you prop yourself up and place your hands on his cheeks. Warmth soaks into your palms like sunlight, and you tilt your head, thumbs drawing over the flush on his cheekbones and tapping gently.

“Don’t say this is because of me,” you tease.

His hands reach up to cover yours. “Then I’d be lying,” he replies, turning his head to kiss your fingertips, “and I would never lie about how you make me feel.”

“Not even if you hated me?”

“The day I hate you is the day I should be tied to an anchor and fed to the sharks.”

“That’s awful.”

“I know.” His eyes search your face, and they narrow as he murmurs, “Who could ever hate someone as gorgeous as you?”

(Whoever coined the phrase “flattery will get you nowhere” has never met Sanji, you’re sure of it.)

Leaning down, you press your lips to his nose, to his forehead, to each cheek. A contented sigh brushes past your ears as you do so.

Eventually, you make your way to the source of his sweet words. You pause, and Sanji opens his eyes as you hover above his lips, just shy of meeting them with your own.

“Something wrong, sweetheart?”

“No,” you say. “Just wanted to see your pretty eyes before I kiss you senseless.”

He stills. Then he laughs, the sound blooming from deep within his chest and staining your world with gold. “Well – aren’t you a charmer,” Sanji quips, stroking your waist and pecking your cheek. His words are softer than usual. “Careful with my heart, now.”

“Don’t worry,” you say, and you kiss him fully, drinking in the way his grip on you tightens and the way his breath stalls in his throat when you speak against his mouth. “It’s in good hands, I think.”

The kiss is just as warm as his cheeks. You feel drunk as you pull away, and Sanji lifts his head to chase your lips, whispering your name with the reverence of a believer.

“You guys mind doing that somewhere other than here?”

The two of you freeze in each other’s embrace.

You jolt out of it and push yourself up, accidentally knocking the breath out of Sanji in the process. He wheezes and curls up as you lock eyes with a very unimpressed swordsman.

“Z-Zoro! We”—you scramble to unrumple your shirt, which had ridden up underneath the blanket—“I’m sorry, we – we thought everyone was going to be in the lounge for a while.”

“You thought wrong.” Zoro strides past and drops his laundry on the couch. “This isn’t your personal bedroom, Sanji.”

“I’m aware of that,” Sanji replies, annoyance dripping from every syllable. “Now would you mind just stepping out for a few more minutes?”

“Sanji, it’s fine,” you whisper, patting his chest. “The mood is kinda killed now, anyway.”

He visibly droops. “I know.”

“Good.”

“I wasn’t asking for your opinion, mosshead.”

The room fills with a completely different kind of tension as Zoro crosses his arms at Sanji’s response.

You, still trying to cover up your embarrassment, move to block Sanji’s view, pushing his bangs away from his face and attempting to smooth out his frown lines. His cheeks are still flushed, though the color is quickly fading back to normal as his attention turns back to you.

“C’mon, Zoro wants to fold his laundry. Let’s go up to the lounge and see what the others are up to.”

“Is that what you really want to do?”

“Yeah.” (It is now, anyway.)

“… All right, then,” Sanji acquiesces.

With that, you push the blanket off and clamber out of the hammock, nearly tripping and falling flat on your face in your haste to do so. Sanji follows close behind, and once he’s on his feet, you turn to Zoro and give him another quick apology before you and Sanji leave the men’s room.

“Of all the times to be interrupted,” your companion mutters as the two of you head to the lounge. He takes your hand in his and interlaces your fingers. “I’m sorry about that.”

“It’s nobody’s fault. Ships don’t have a lot of privacy …” You think back to the moment Zoro spoke up and groan, burying your face in your free hand. “I’m just embarrassed he caught us like that. I didn’t even hear him come down.”

“Me neither.” Sanji lets out an irritated sigh and then looks over at you; his displeasure softens. “At the very least, I’ll take it to mean you were enjoying yourself.”

Your face heats up. “Of course,” you say quickly. “I like our alone time."

“I like it too.” He squeezes your hand and leans over to whisper into your ear. “Next time, I could be on top, so I can hide you away if anyone walks in unannounced.”

“Wh – Sanji! Don’t say it like that!”

The man grins as you smack his arm playfully, planting a kiss to your temple as penance.

“Just evening the score, sweetheart.”

[literaila]

Reader meeting gojo parents when since they’re confirmed to be alive ☹️

the next time gojo satoru claims to be a “grown man” you’re going to pull his annoyingly soft hair and shove him down a sink drain.

this child, this infant—the very same one who got lost exactly one minute after you told him not to wander off—is going to be the death of you.

you’d always thought that you might go out peacefully, in your sleep or lying in a hospital bed. or, at least, heroically. saving some innocent bystander, leaving the world with some witty last remark.

but no.

instead you’ll die of a heart attack. instead you’re going to look for gojo and accidentally wander into some den of cursed spirits and die before you get the chance to pull on his ear at least one last time.

even tsumiki doesn’t get lost this much—and she gets distracted every time she catches a glimpse of pink in a window.

you walk amongst the crowd, looking for long legs and a stupid blind-fold, thinking about how you should’ve brought megumi. he’s more observant than you are—he’ll look for any chance to get gojo in trouble.

namely, this one.

you sigh, dialing his number again. but you can barely hear it ring as you hold it to your ear, you can barely hear the, “it’s gojo, you must feel sorry that you missed me—“ before you hang up. he’s not going to listen to any short of breath voicemail you leave anyway.

he can teleport home, you suppose. it might be nice to have a couple of hours to yourself, to teach him a lesson for once—

(and no, you won’t miss him. that’s a ridiculous suggestion. why would you miss a third child that clings to you, and whines every time you’re not paying enough attention to him, and whispers sweet things in your ear when he’s bored, and follows you wherever you go, and always trails his hand down the small of your back because he knows—

no, okay? no.)

you’re thinking about how gojo satoru is the worst person you’ve ever met—and you’ve had to sit through meetings with the higher ups, so—when you run into someone.

you get your obliviousness from gojo, thank you.

“i’m sorry, i—“ but you look up and you’re met with the same smile you were just cursing out in your head.

though, maybe not quite the same? it’s usually not so pained and he’s usually sticking his tongue out a little bit—

“baby,” he breathes, chest inflating.

you frown. “i thought i told you to stay by me. i’ve been looking for you for, like, fifteen minutes, are you—“

he turns, just slightly, and usually you would pinch his cheek for trying to deflect but… there’s a woman standing there. looking at you—at him—like she’s seen some sort of ghost.

satoru has that effect, you suppose.

“oh, sorry,” you say, stepping so you wave at her. “did i—am i interrupting?”

“no, we—“

“it’s nothing—“

they both stop. and satoru may be blindfolded, as ridiculous as he is, but you can practically see the glance that they share.

the quick look away, awkwardness floating through the air like dust.

you tilt your head, brows furrowing.

satoru doesn’t necessarily like talking to strangers, but the man doesn’t know what social expectations are. and he’s certainly not awkward.

you wrap your hand around his arm, feeling the release of his technique (and yours), as you consider them. “satoru. who’s this?”

“she’s…” he makes a vague gesture with his hand, trying to telepathically communicate with you, and winces again.

you give him another strange look.

but the woman clears her throat, gesturing to satoru. “i am his mother.”

you still, keeping your eyes on satoru. he doesn’t look back towards you, doesn’t nod to confirm or acknowledge her in any way. his head is tilted up, eyes to the sky.

eventually, you look to the woman.

suddenly you see it, like a flash of light. her eyes are blue, and though not as breathtaking as satoru’s, still light enough to be beautiful.

her hair is a glimmering silver and her entire body is tense.

but she doesn’t look like satoru at all, you think. satoru is always smiling, always moving a million miles a minute. he’s gesturing and trying to make you laugh and he’s never nervous, he’s never caught off guard.

except for maybe now.

some hindrance in your mind thinks about how megumi resembles satoru at times—the model of his smirk or the tease in his eyes. you recall tsumiki’s laugh, the mimicry of sound when she’s laughing with satoru.

it’s not biology, you hear, but connection.

the way you mold each other, the tight grip that admiration has on the very material of your soul.

“oh,” you breathe out finally. but you don’t say anything else to her, can’t think of anything you might want to. you turn to satoru, leaning closer to him, hand gripping his arm. “satoru, do you want to—“

he finally looks forward, towering both of you. “this is my wife,” he interrupts, smoothly. “we were just shopping.”

“it’s lovely to meet you.”

the woman is trying to smile but it doesn’t mean much to you. she keeps glancing at satoru—staring like he’s some public attraction, hesitating like he might bite if provoked.

you pull on his arm a little bit, dragging him a step away. you don’t want to ask in front of her—dont want to take that means of distance away from him—but you don’t have a choice.

“do you want to go?” you whisper to him, wishing you could meet his eyes. “we don’t have to stay.”

his mouth opens, then closes. “i’m not—“ he swallows, stopping.

you’re about to say something—to tell him that he doesn’t owe her anything, that he doesn’t have to be afraid—but she clears her throat again and you turn, ready to say whatever you can to get your satoru back.

the one who’s never left speechless, never left not knowing what to say.

“satoru,” the woman speaks, saying his name like she deserves to. like it’s different when it’s in her mouth—a possession no one else can have. “i have to go—we aren’t supposed to be in the city for very long.”

you frown at her and satoru continues to stare at the side of your head.

“here’s my phone number. i would like—love. i would love to speak with you, if you have the time. whenever you want. if you want.”

she holds her hand out to him and you already know that he’s not going to reach out to her.

you already know that even if he did—she would never get past the world of space between them.

so you reach out instead, grabbing it from her. “thank you.”

“no—thank you. i am…” she pauses, looking away, finally. “i am glad you’ve found happiness, satoru. i… have to go. it was nice seeing you,” she blinks at you, a slight bow as she takes a step back. “and meeting you.”

you don’t say anything but wait, watching for satoru as she walks away from the two of you—keeping him safe for just a moment.

and as soon as she’s gone, you turn to look at him, not sure what to say.

it’s not like with your mom—if satoru understands your childhood at all, you’re completely lost to his.

“you okay, baby?” you ask, staying close to him. maybe it’s a defense mechanism—trying to keep him from shutting you out—or maybe it’s so he knows that you’re there.

“i didn’t think i would ever see her again.”

“did she…” his eyes meet yours, even through the fabric, his mouth a straight line. “did she say anything before i showed up?”

he shakes his head. “no. she just stared at me. i—i didn’t realize who she was, at first.”

“that’s understandable.”

“i don’t know why she would be here.” he looks around, seeming to come to, and then finds you again. “did i get lost?”

you laugh, a bit shocked, pushing your forehead into his chest. “ran away, more like.”

his arms wrap around your back, holding you in place. “sorry. i smelled dessert.”

“of course you did.”

he takes a deep breath, then pulls away. “okay. more shopping? did you check out at the gift shop?”

“are you okay, satoru?”

“i’m fine,” he answers immediately. you stare at him, unblinking, and wait. after a moment, he licks his lip. “okay. yeah. i don’t know.”

“that’s okay.”

three years ago, he wouldn’t have said anything to you. two years ago, he would’ve feigned indifference and hidden himself away for a week.

but you’ve learned to move past these walls, learned how to fill the space and not push too hard.

and you love satoru. too much to let him fall away from you, now.

he sighs after a moment, shaking his head again. “she.. she looks different.”

“it’s been at least ten years, right?”

“yeah.”

you wipe his cheek, adjusting his blindfold for him. “do you want to call her?”

“i don’t—“ he frowns, just minimally. “i don’t know.”

“that’s okay. but you can, you know?”

“would you help me?”

“help you dial her number?”

he grabs your wrist, his cheek quirking. “help me talk to her.”

“hmm…” you tap his nose with a finger. “maybe if you beg.”

“this is why i ran away,” he says, just barely pouting.

and that’s how you know you’ve gotten your satoru back. as annoying as he is.

[2aceofspades]

A lil 'tail' of sorts...

Aftermath bonus:

Casey Jr. worked really hard on his new hairstyle...only for Peepaw Leo to mess it up...tsk tsk.

Ah, this was fun to make...I'm a bit rusty when it comes to comics, but hey, I'm having fun and that's all that really matters...right?

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

HOW DEEP IS YOUR DEVOTION? ; SATORU GOJO

synopsis; you’re his knight, and he’s your prince. if only it were that simple.

word count; 6.6k

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, royalty au (..but no effort put into making it historically accurate in any way oops), knight!reader x prince!toru!!, childhood friends, mutual pining, fluffy overall, some hurt/comfort too, vague allusions to abuse (reader is punished by one of the castle maids as a child but it’s only really hinted at), knight!reader is horrendously devoted but prince!gojo is arguably worse, he would burn the world down if u asked nicely <3

a/n; big big BIG thank you to @/teddybeartoji for having the biggest brain in the galaxy and infecting me with this concept <33 if u pay attention while reading you can tell the exact moment i started slowly spiraling into insanity

you are five years old when you meet the prince.

five years old, a mere child, and too young to be blinded by such brilliance. too young to be where you are; curled up in a dark alley, back against a grimy brick wall, covered in bruises. like a beaten dog — scrawny and afraid. waiting for a strike that never comes.

the boy in front of you is also five years old, but you don’t know that. something in him looks older, somehow, something in the way he carries himself. like he doesn’t have anything to be afraid of. like he’s never even felt fear. he parts his lips and speaks like he has the right to, like he’s comfortable in his own skin, a radiance so blinding you could mistake him for the sun. too much for you to bear.

”does it hurt?”

the words fall on deaf ears. but you flinch, your body reacts, a tremble down your tiny spine. you hear the sound but not the words. too mesmerized, too paralyzed, unable to look away from the blue of his eyes, painted with rich watercolour hues. seeping into the world around you like ink on paper, cobalt and aquamarine and something else, something you’ve never seen before —

a blue so jarring it makes you shiver.

the boy has an innocent face. almost girlish, plump cheeks and long lashes, clean clothes and smooth skin. a little too pretty to be out here, you think, in this part of town — too pure to be anywhere near someone like you. he’s above you, that much you can tell. a pretty, innocent face, untouched by dirt or ache; the face of royalty. an entirely different species.

there’s something keen in his eyes, a contrast to his childlike features. a sharp gaze, something that sees through you, something that won’t look away. something mildly frightening. enough to have you cowering in fear, hugging your knees closer to your chest.

but then he smiles. and it’s sincere. sweet, vibrant, all honey and milk and a world you cannot reach.

a smile so captivating you take his outstretched hand, and let him drag you away to god-knows-where.

(that's how it begins. the dynamic that’ll follow you into your adult lives; satoru takes the lead, and you follow. no matter where he’s going.)

satoru gojo, as you soon come to learn, is the prince of the nation you reside in. the only child of the royal family, born with talent and prestige, fame and fortune, set to become king. a different species, indeed.

but he brings you home with him, to a castle so grand you feel as if your very presence is an insult to the architects who designed it, and convinces his parents to let you stay. it’s surprising, but you don’t protest; following him like a puppy at his trail. and he’s stubborn, insistent, demanding that he get to keep said puppy. 

the king and queen don’t care one way or another. they glance at you with apathy, and tell satoru to do what he wants — but convincing the scary and displeased castle maids takes some work. 

satoru doesn’t waver, though. he holds your hand in his, and demands that you be treated with respect.

and he wins. he always wins.

that’s how you become the prince’s playmate. raised alongside him, allowed to stay close, eat from the same food. he won’t settle for anything less. defending your honour, always, before you even know what honour means. before you care.

time passes slowly. joyously. every day is a new adventure, as you attempt to get used to the miracle that is your new life — sweet and silky, apricot blossoms and fresh peaches, duvet pillows and a bubbly laughter you didn’t know you still had. he coaxes it out of you, with every secret midnight outing, every bout of mischief he drags you both into. 

satoru has nice hands, uncalloused palms, fingers that grasp yours and don’t let go. he takes you outside, to see the stars, to catch fireflies in the dark of night on top of the hill that oversees the castle. to take a dip in the river just below it, gleaming a silver hue under the blue shade of the moon. you worry about getting in trouble, but he reassures you — the prince can do what he wants.

that might be true, but you are no prince. not even close. satoru may safeguard you, but all you’ll ever be in the eyes of the world is a stray he got to keep.

and one time, only one time, you do face the repercussions of your midnight outings. you, and you alone. a bad influence — seething words, buzzing in your ears. an angry castle maid, and a stinging pain in your cheek. blurry tears. 

but that’s an incident no one in the castle dares to speak of.

(you’ll never forget that look in his eyes.)

satoru is an odd boy. he keeps you close, always, clinging to you like he needs you to breathe. you don’t understand why, but you’ve learned not to question him. the castle guards all know you as the prince’s best friend, and some part of you knows that’s all you’ll ever amount to. but you don’t mind.

because you love him. at five years old, six years old, seven and beyond, you love him. satoru gojo, the kindest boy in the stratosphere. 

a boy who keeps finding you, no matter where you are, who tugs you along as naturally as the rise of the sun. who raids kitchen cabinets with you and always makes you laugh, little giggles and chuckles that have him beaming proudly. a boy who cleans your wounds with a serious expression, and tells you that he’ll protect you forever. 

(you tell yourself the same. that you’ll protect him forever and ever, until you run out of air to breathe. a boy so sweet you’d die for him.)

a pledge is made. you make it before you know what a pledge is. pledging to protect him, to become his sword, because even as a child you understand that his life will be difficult. you see it in the dullness that sometimes comes over his eyes, the apathy of his so-called parents, the hours he spends locked up with nothing but a pile of dusty books to keep him company. 

so you decide to become his knight. his, and his alone. 

it’s challenging. but you push through; training with another aspiring knight, miles better than you, black hair tousled by the breeze as he knocks you off your feet for the thirtieth consecutive time. wincing as the girl who sometimes watches your sparring patches you up, soft hands cleaning your wounds so tenderly that you almost choke up.

and eventually, as the apricot blossoms of the castle orchard wilt and bloom over and over in a flurry of pure white, your dream comes true. 

there’s something playful in satoru’s eyes, when he places his blade on the curve of your shoulder. something sweet and fond, and just a little bit ironic — as if you’re still seven years old, and playing house. 

you want to tell him that it isn’t a joke. that you’re serious, about this, that you’d tear your stomach open to keep him safe. but you know he’d just laugh. so you let the words clog up your throat, honey-sweet devotion sticking to the walls of your esophagus. breathing in through your nose, as he speaks. as the words you’ve waited to hear flow from his glossy lips.

when all is said and done, satoru smiles. he calls you his little knight, and you can tell that he’s teasing you. indulging you, as if he’s in on some joke that you aren’t. but you’ll take what you can get.

you call him my prince, expecting him to laugh it off, but his smile begins to fall. and a pang of ache rushes through your soul, instantaneous, guilty, although you don’t understand why.

so you keep calling him satoru. even though it’s more than a little unprofessional, and you become painfully accustomed to receiving a few judgemental looks here and there. a knight and a prince shouldn’t be so very close, they think, and you don’t disagree. but there’s nothing they can do about it, anyhow.

the prince and his knight can do what they want.

not much changes. you’re his knight, but he treats you the same as before. he’s playful, a little goofy, and you indulge him. as always. attached at the hip, bickering and bantering, bouncing off each other effortlessly. and satoru never bothers to hide your history, the soft spot he has for you; it’s in every fleeting glance, soft tilt of his head, teasing call of ah, there’s my favorite knight. 

(you’re no stranger to jealous looks. sometimes a pout on the lips of a pretty girl, a crease between the brows of one of your fellow knights. and sometimes a glare, from his fiancée — a woman he was engaged to before he was old enough to speak.

but you don’t mind. you’ve never cared what anyone but satoru thinks of you.)

satoru never loses his smile, that effortless air of confidence. the charm that makes people want to follow him, a charisma you know well. one you fell victim to at five years of age. he’s still just a prince, far from being a king, but he receives the same respect.

and that keen, sharp glimmer in his eyes never quite goes away; the hardened shell around his heart unbroken. you see it in fleeting glances, during meetings, ones he allows you to attend despite your status. when he speaks to a room of people with more power than you can imagine, his voice unwavering. back straight. elegant, serious, the presence of royalty — enough to receive respect without even trying. 

but he still shoots you a smile, easygoing, when your eyes meet. one only you can see.

as for you, the step into knighthood is a clumsy one. but you take your duties seriously, and adjust properly. a deep devotion runs through your veins, from your beating heart down to the tips of your fingers, where a sword lies clutched. you keep it close, always, ready to serve. to obey. to protect. 

all of it for one person.

all you do is for him. duels in his honour, beasts slain for his peace of mind, and he’s always there to welcome you back. wiping the blood from your cheek, tenderly, smearing his untainted skin with red; all while he looks at you softly, a coo or word of praise waltzing on the tip of his tongue. 

that’s only for when you remain unscathed, though, when the blood on your cheek isn’t your own. when you get hurt, it’s different — something begins to brew inside his eyes, and you can’t tell what it is. but he insists on bandaging you himself, paying no mind to your meek protests.

sometimes, you’re more reckless than usual. your injuries worse. sometimes he looks upset, angry with you, and doesn’t speak. you don’t, either.

a strange look comes over his eyes, every now and then. when you get down on one knee, to kiss his hand, the metal of the ring on his finger — and if you look up, you’ll see it. simmering inside those blue depths, something just as fond as it is sad. troubled, you think.

(something tells you he’d kneel, too, if only you’d let him.)

the bond between you remains intact. even as you begin to shoulder more responsibilities, more duties, even though you don’t have as much freedom as you used to. even though you seem to get less time to spend with each other every single day. but you stay together, even so; just like when you were children, running around and causing trouble, more than you could get away with now. 

despite everything, satoru has grown up into a fine man. and you couldn't be prouder.

“do you think i look good in black? be honest.”

you throw him a glance. curious, somewhat perplexed, eyeing him up and down.

satoru is wearing a white blouse, puffy sleeves and a low neckline, showing off the skin of his bare chest. no black colours to be seen. you think back to that banquet he attended last month, forced into an expensively tailored black coat. a corset around his waist. and then you hum.

“sure you do.”

”suguru said it makes me look like a try-hard,” he scoffs, crossing his arms. tilting his head in your direction. ”do you think he’s jealous?”

”definitely.”

a moment passes. 

satoru narrow his eyes, and gives you a dubious look. clicking his tongue. ”… something tells me you aren’t taking this seriously.”

”i am,” you assure him, a lazy smile at your lips. meeting his gaze, that displeased little pout. still smoothing a brush down the mane of your horse, the smell of hay soothing your muddled senses. ”just tired. you look good in anything. you know that.”

he hums. silent, the sound of a spring breeze filling in the gaps.

it’s late. outside the stables, the world is engulfed by a dark sky, almost too murky to see anything. hazy stars glimmer in the distance, and a sense of fatigue gnaws at your bones. it’s been a long day, and yet you’re here — doing even more work. just a little more.

and satoru’s right there with you. even though he’s just sitting there, on the floor, not lifting a finger to help. not that he has to. insistent on spending some quality time with you, keeping you company. just talking and munching on the food he snuck in, bread and cheese and an expensive bottle of wine, that he leaves completely untouched. he tries to leave some of everything else for you, though. keyword being tries.

a sense of peace simmers in the air. palpable, almost enough to taste, as midnight air streams in from the opened doors, chilly and pleasant on your skin. ruffling the thin fabric of your clothing.

and it’s nice, you think, just to have satoru there — talking about this and that, complaining about all the annoying people he had to meet yesterday, yawning every now and then. nostalgic. like this, it almost feels like you're still kids. back when you spent every single hour of the day by each other’s side.

it’s been a long time since you got the chance to speak like this. satoru’s been busy, and so have you. more so than usual.

”are they running you ragged?” he suddenly asks, and you don’t realize you’ve spent the last minute staring into space. resuming your brushing, with steady hands, but turning your head to meet his gaze.

”need me to…” he makes a slicing motion with his hand, right over his throat. a glint of mischief in his eyes. ”handle it?”

and you scoff. amused, but answering him seriously; unsure if his question is all-together humorous, if it doesn’t carry a hint of something genuine too. ”of course not.”

there’s a weariness in the way you blink. the way you pet the animal in front of you, having finished getting the dirt and blood clots out of her mane. she lays down in her stall, and you smile. turning around to rest your back against the wooden border between you, a respite for your aching bones.

it gets just a little bit tiring, sometimes. fighting, patrolling, helping townsfolk. protecting the castle, making sure everything is in order. killing whatever needs to be killed. cleaning the stained silver of your sword.

but…

”it’s my duty,” you answer, seriously, and it comes out sounding like a vow. because it is. 

you avoid his gaze, but you can feel it, as you pick up the wine bottle by your feet and pop the cork. soft moonlight flits in from the windows, illuminating the green glass. a chartreuse glow that reminds you of fireflies, shimmering in your grasp, and for some reason it soothes your heart.

satoru only hums, far from approving. popping a piece of cheese into his mouth. 

after a brief pause, he continues. ”you don’t have to be so serious all the time, you know.” his voice comes out a little raspy. it’s got a certain tilt to it, one that means he wants you to take him seriously. ”not around me.”

you take a sip of the wine. expensive, blood red. it’s too sweet for your taste, heavy on your tongue.

”… i’m less serious with you than i am with others.”

satoru sits up a little straighter.

”yeah?” he grins, a kind of satisfaction blooming in his eyes. cerulean and sweet. almost smug, you think, like the cat that got the cream. ”that’s good. you really should loosen up, though.”

a glance. fleeting, just to see him — but he isn’t looking at you. he’s looking outside, through the opened window, at the sway of the apricot trees. white petals flitting in, landing by his feet. in his hair.

when his eyes meet yours, they’re smoothed over by that something you can never put your finger on. a blend between longing and fondness. crinkled at the edges.

”you’ve got a pretty smile,” he exhales. ”be a shame not to show it off.”

when you look at him, really look at him, you see it. that fatigue. it slips out when he talks to you, a sincere way of speaking that never quite allows him to hide his emotions. you hear the hint of a yawn, can practically feel the weight on his shoulders. the weight of an entire nation. a weight he was always bound to carry.

(you could never bring yourself to be even remotely alright with it.)

“have you been doing okay?” you ask, and satoru blinks. there’s a soft look in your eyes, as they trail over the contours of his face, his lashes catching the light of the stars. an innocent, pretty face. but he looks tired. frail. like he hasn’t been sleeping properly.

something rotten bubbles up inside your throat.

”they’re running you ragged, too,” you say, hand settling on your hip. where your sword usually is. unconsciously, on instinct — or maybe just to make him laugh. ”need me to step in?”

satoru chuckles. husky, mellow. dripping with soft amusement.

”settle down, little knight.”

a moment passes. silent. his eyes flutter shut, for a second, and a breath slips from his lips. almost a sigh. in the distance, you hear the quiet coo of an owl. 

”of course,” he eventually answers, opening his eyes. and you think he looks a little resigned. but smiling. self-deprecating, you think, although he’d like you to assume otherwise. ”all of it is just preparation, anyhow.” 

a flimsy smile, as he looks into your knowing eyes. ”it’s what i was born for, wasn’t it?”

you purse your lips.

“… i don’t think so.”

another chuckle. a little delighted, this time. 

“yeah,” he cranes his neck, emitting a low groan. “me neither.” something sweet blossoms in his eyes, sweet like the crunch of the apple he bites into, juice dribbling down his chin. ”but it is what it is.”

a beat. you part your lips, trying to find the right words. ”tell me if there's anything i can do,” you settle on. the same words you always choose. ”anything at all.”

satoru smiles. “right.” his voice carries a teasing tilt; almost a purr. ”there’s nothing you wouldn't do for me, hm?” 

“— there isn’t.” you smile. “nothing at all.”

he blinks. a little dazed, for a second, and you watch as his ears redden. slight, enough for you to notice, but gone before you can bring it up. a contemplation smooths over his features. and a pleasant breeze flits in, ruffling his hair, apricot petals kissing up his skin. he looks at the apple in his hands.

then he sighs. placing his palms on his knees, and rising to his feet. his arms twitch, muscular beneath the flimsy blouse, and you gulp. although you aren’t sure why.

“alright, then.” his eyes flicker in the dim light, sharp and decisive. he crosses over to you with long strides. “there is something you can do.”

when he’s close enough, satoru reaches out his hand; opening his palm. a silent beckoning. you look at him, not saying a word. his expression is unreadable. 

then you intertwine your fingers with his. unquestioningly, even in the midst of your confusion.

(it reminds you of that day. when he pulled you up to your feet, held your hand in his and refused to let go. leading you to the promise of something better.)

no matter where he goes, you follow.

and satoru grins. it’s sweet, just like back then, a smile so vibrant you wish you could tuck it into your sleeve and keep it there forever. he curls his fingers around yours, gentle, fondness bubbling up inside his eyes. for a second, you think you see the sun.

“come with me.”

at first, you truly aren’t sure where he’s going to take you. hand in hand, you begin to walk, feeling the midnight breeze nip at your skin. beyond the castle walls, away from the hustle and bustle of the nearby town. satoru holds your hand and smiles, tousled tufts of white hair swaying with the wind, leading you to a place you know well. a place where the air tastes like freedom.

it’s the river you used to play by as children.

gleaming a solemn silver under the evanescent moon, framed by bushes of lilacs, blooming indigo and violet and pure white. butterflies flutter about, almost glittering, blue wings settling down on the leaves. the scent of nectar hangs heavy in the air. on top of the hill just above you, you think you can spot tiny little glowing dots; green and yellow, buzzing around. dancing merrily, now that there aren’t any troublemaker children left to trap them.

satoru lets go of your hand, to roll up his sleeves. the hems of his pants. then he’s taking a step forward, dangerously close to the edge of the river, and you can tell what he’s thinking.

“ah — wait —“ you stumble forward, to grab hold of his arm. a worried crease forms between your brows. “that's dangerous, satoru. you could slip and fall.”

he turns to face you, a teasing mirth in his eyes. smirking lightly. “oh? is that so?” he hums, a slight tilt of his head. then he’s stepping closer, so close you feel his warm breath on your skin, but you will yourself not to step back. “wanna know what i think?”

he leans forward, just a little further, warm air brushing against the shell of your ear. flushing beneath it. his voice comes out low, a sleepy lilt, dangerously raspy. hand ghosting over your waist.

”i think you’re too scared to get in.”

you blink.

”… really?” you deadpan, stepping back a tad. satoru looks pleased with himself.

“really,” he purrs. “you were always like that. could barely dip your toes in without shivering.” he reaches out to pinch your cheek, a coo on the tip of his tongue. ”scaredy-cat.”

you raise an unimpressed brow. satoru steps back, inching closer to the river, until a quiet splash tells you that he’s standing in the water. lapping up his bare legs, not enough to even reach his knees — it felt a lot scarier when you were smaller. he’s still holding your hand, very loosely, fingertips ghosting your own. 

“c’mon,” he coaxes. soft, encouraging, a playful glimmer in his eyes. teeth catching the light of the moon. “or is it too much for my brave knight to handle?”

satoru laughs, when that makes you furrow your brows, attempting to hide the flush of your cheeks. a warmth spreads through your chest at the term of endearment, and you bite your lip. melting a little. 

his knight. his favourite knight.

“... fine,” you tangle your fingers in his own. sighing deeply, taking a tentative step forward. “just be careful, okay? i don't want to deal with your whining if you hit your head.”

“ah, but you’d kiss it better, no? if i asked?” he flashes you a honeyed grin, eyes rich with amusement. you hope the darkness of the night is enough to hide the red of your ears.

a grumble buzzes in your throat, locked behind your pursed lips. something in your jaw goes tight.

the man in front of you softens. parting his glossy lips. he says your name; slowly, thoughtfully, as if savouring every syllable. dragging them out, speaking with a lilt that tells you he’s being sincere.

“— loosen up. it’s just you and me.”

so you do.

and it’s odd. how easy it is to get lost in him, the watercolour of his eyes, the brightness of his grin. how pliantly you let him whisk you away. before you know it, you’re playing in the water — because satoru splashed you, laughing at the shock on your face and the shiver of your spine, and you had no choice but to retaliate. 

the sound of his laughter fills the air, sweet and bubbly. deep and giddy. strands of hair stick to his wet skin, droplets running down his neck, but his grin never falters. bright and toothy, boyish. he looks younger than you ever remember him being. like there’s no weight on his shoulders, none at all, only soaked fabric weighing him down. a flimsy, see-through blouse.

you think it’s ridiculous. two grown adults, splashing each other like children. but his melodic giggles are contagious, and before you know it, you’re laughing too — and satoru looks at you like you hung all the stars in the sky. through dewy eyelashes, with cerulean eyes that melt into the pale blue of the moon and the silver of the river. filled with wonder.

a particularly ruthless splash knocks him off balance, and he has the instinct to reach for your arm; stumbling, slipping, dragging you down with him. you land on his chest, cheek against his neck, his pulse against your skin. erratic, joyous. fluttering happily. his chest is heaving, lifting you up and down, a little, rhythmic and comforting. 

a sudden yelp slips past your lips, as you get snapped back into reality, into the realization that you basically just pushed your own prince into a river and used his unfairly soft chest as a cushion. a mumbled string of apologies escapes you, as you attempt to get up, scrambling to find footing.

but satoru wraps his arms around you. tucking you under his chin, keeping you flush against his chest. nice and still. 

and then he sighs. a blissful little breath, fatigue seeping out of him. into the air. 

“stay like this, for a bit,” he rasps. ”it’s okay.”

his heartbeat resounds in your ear. warm and rapid, like claps of thunder, coaxing you into closing your eyes. satoru has always felt so very safe. the water of the river is cold, seeping through the fabric of your clothing and sticking to your skin, but…

(he’s warm.)

silence. and then, a whisper; frail, slipping past his lips, gently slicing the silence in half. softer than you've ever heard him speak.

“i missed this.”

…

nuzzling into his neck, you breathe him in. he smells like sandalwood and dried roses, buzzing with warmth, heavy arms around your waist. solid. when did he get so big? you used to be taller. 

then again — that was a long time ago, wasn’t it?

“… me too.”

“missed you,” he continues, his jaw on top of your head. it’s a sincere confession; childlike in its innocence. “missed hearing you laugh like that. feels like it’s been so long.” 

you stay silent. unsure of what to say. satoru continues, and you let his husky voice carry you away, the tremor of his chest running through your entire body. soothing like a lullaby. 

”we haven't had much time together, lately. i’ve been worried,” he admits, and something about it strikes you as rather sheepish. a little ashamed. ”it bothers me that i can't be there to watch over you. make sure you're treated with respect, you know.”

a sleepy chuckle. muffled into his shoulder, almost a scoff — slightly exasperated. little droplets cling to his skin, sticking to your lips.

”relax, your majesty,” you tease. ”i promise the other knights aren’t bullying me.” 

satoru pouts. you can hear it, when he speaks. ”i’m serious,” he huffs, squeezing you lightly. ”and it’s not them i’m worried about. suguru’s there.”

another scoff threatens to escape your throat. you want to tell him the only knight that should be suspected of bullying you is suguru himself, but before you can even think to part your lips satoru’s beaten you to it.

”they all treat you so carelessly.” there’s something cold to his voice, an irritation tugging at his teeth. oddly seething. ”like you exist to serve them. like you’re disposable.” 

a moment passes, heavy with a silence so thick you don’t dare break it. when he speaks again, it’s an order. a demand. 

”i want you to tell me if they go too far.”

silence. again. you can do nothing but gnaw at the flesh of your bottom lip. 

(he isn’t wrong. but that’s simply what it means to be a knight — half-human, half-weapon. an unattainable ideal, stuffed inside a suit of armor.

when a weapon breaks under the force of a slash, the only choice is to throw it away. that much you know.)

”it’s fine. i’m not that fragile,” you weakly protest, but it’s not enough. satoru huffs.

”you’re a human being,” he reminds you. strangely stern, for once. chastising. ”you deserve to be treated with respect. knight or not. fragile or not.”

a deep inhale. he breathes in, and the rise of his chest carries you with it. his voice buzzes with something, a slumbering kind of fury. one you haven’t heard in years. 

“if anyone gives you trouble — if anyone hurts you… if anyone makes you feel unsafe,” he almost spits the words, like they’re venomous, sacrilegious. ”tell me. i’ll destroy them.”

silence. and then, a chuckle.

that’s all you can manage; that one meek little breath. resisting the urge to cower, at the love that clings to every word he speaks. angered affection. a promise, dangerously genuine, like a growing wildfire. ”i can take care of myself, satoru,” you remind him. hoping it’ll soothe him. ”you know that.”

but his grip around you only tightens. gentle, even still. as if you’re made of glass, a firefly cupped in his palms. he lets the silence linger, for a moment.

and then; 

“i’d do it, you know.”

“… do what?” you ask, though some part of you already knows. 

satoru’s reply is instantaneous. an arrow hitting its target, cold and concise, decisive. frighteningly honest. almost a growl, flattened, a hint of teeth behind his soft lips. ”destroy them. anyone.”

”i’d tear this nation apart if you asked me to.”

…

(ah. that look in his eyes — one you remember well. strung together with blurred memories, the sting of a palm on your cheek, a castle maid you never saw again.)

you search for the words. biting back a gulp, hesitant. “… i wouldn’t.”

“i know.” satoru yawns, breathing you in, voice shifting back into the softness you’re so used to. your shoulders relax. “but i would. if that’s what you wanted.”

and it’s a little scary, the depths of his devotion. but you’re almost certain you’d do the same for him. maybe you're both a little sick in the head, a little too eager to serve your hearts on a silver platter.

“it bothers me, you know.” satoru breaks you out of your thoughts. gentle, a soft lull of his tongue. ”when you get hurt. when you fight for me.”

“i know,” you murmur. you’ve seen it in his eyes, a worry he’s not as good at hiding as he thinks. ”i want to, though.”

“and i want you to be safe.” a chuckle bubbles up in his throat, just a little bit rueful. “you never listen, do you? so stubborn, i swear. always worrying me.”

you bite down on your lip. he sounds… a little sad.

“… sorry.”

a moment’s pause. then he shakes his head; cradling you close. “it’s fine. i’m here. always,” his palm runs down the small of your back. ”in case anything happens.”

he inhales. ”and when i become king —” a beat. he swallows thickly. ”you’ll never have to worry again. no one will be able to touch you.”

”satoru,” you crack a small smile. amused. raising a single eyebrow. ”i’m not worried. i can protect myself.”

”i know. but i’m saying you don’t have to.”

and then he’s pulling back. just a little bit, just enough to see you. cheek smushed against his chest, comfortable and soft, more unguarded than he’s seen you these past few months. it’s enough to get his heart racing. enough to have him reaching out, fingertips ghosting over your hand, tangling your fingers together. bringing it to his glossy lips. a chaste kiss, brimming with unspoken murmurs of love.

”— i’ll protect you forever,” he vows. ”remember?”

there’s devotion in his eyes. heavy, a vow he’ll never quite be able to voice in full. something that makes the blue of his eyes glow even brighter, cerulean, aquamarine, a blue so jarring it makes your heart beat faster than it should.

you blink. starstruck, caught in a daze, lost within that sea of blue. distracted by his warm breath on your cold skin, the soft whisper voiced against your knuckle. something shy blossoms in your chest, enough to have you averting your gaze. 

“... you really don’t care about the dynamic here, do you?” is all you can reply. a meek scoff, a weak attempt at hiding how flustered you are. “i’m the knight. i’m your protector.”

“oh, i know.” a smile sticks to his lips, playful, the back of his hand caressing your cheek. a coo on his tongue. “my little hero. what would i ever do without you?”

a roll of your eyes. satoru chuckles. in the distance, you hear crickets chirping, a breeze rustling the lilac bushes all around you. he’s still cradling your cheek, smoothing over your wet skin, brushing a drop of water away with his thumb. clinging to your bottom eyelash.

“i don't get it, though.”

you blink. when you meet his eyes, satoru looks a little perplexed. muttering under his breath, absently rubbing circles over your cheekbone. you resist the urge to close your eyes again, biting back a blissful sigh.

”a prince shouldn’t care for his knight…” he repeats, like he’s heard the string of words a million times before. ”the idea of that. i don’t understand it. never have.”

the smile that blossoms on his lips is soft, indescribably so, as if he’s looking at the most precious thing in his life. rich and warm, like wine in your veins, nectar on your tongue, a chest pressed against your own. dripping with fondness.

satoru tilts his head, as if in confusion — but he’s smiling. “what’s so strange about wanting to protect the one dearest to my heart?” 

…

his hand slips from your skin, a warmth leaving your cheek. only to search for your hand, again, cradling it in his larger palm. placing it right over his chest, against the soaked material of his blouse. ”feel that?”

you do. a rhythmic rise and fall, a soft flutter from the depths of his ribcage. as if it’s itching to break out, out of the cage that binds it, the hardened shell around it. a heart too big for his body.

”it’s you,” satoru whispers. ”all for you.”

a moment passes.

silently, you lean forward; tucking yourself into his neck. into that comforting warmth, wet skin beginning to dry, the steady thrum of his heart right by your ear. you listen. not saying a word, afraid of what might leave the confines of your strangled throat. it feels as if your heart has begun to crawl upwards, sweet honey blocking your airways, and all you can do it feel it pulse. 

all while satoru gazes at you, fondly. placing a big palm on the back of your head.

fireflies dance in the distance. butterflies flutter about. strings of lilacs bloom under the glow of the moon. and satoru’s heartbeat never changes, never falls out of tune, a sound you would recognize even if the sky were to shatter, if the world were to end. the sound that saved you, the boy who dragged you out of hell. into his light. 

satoru gojo is everything. he’s the beat of your heart, the silver of your sword, the reason you believe in goodness. he’s your prince, your favorite person, and you’ll protect him until your very last breath. until the world runs out of oxygen.

a boy so sweet you’d die for him.

(a boy so sweet he wouldn’t want you to.)

a shiver runs down his spine — sudden, a shudder of his bones, and a quiet little sniffle. you feel it, hear it, and don’t attempt to bite back the fond smile that slips into the curve of your lips.

”c’mon,” you beckon, almost a coo, placing your palms on his chest to hoist yourself up. ”let’s go home.”

but satoru shakes his head. and then he traps you again, strong arms around your waist, pressing you against him. you could escape — you’re almost certain you’re stronger — but you don’t quite have the heart to. ”it’s fine,” he huffs. almost a whine. ”stay.”

”you’ll get sick.”

”i never get sick.”

a deep exhale. tumbling from your lips, just a little bit humorous. mostly exasperated. ”that can change,” you mumble, fingertips dancing along his exposed skin. absentmindedly.

a smile. one you can’t see, but you hear it clear as day. he sounds content, like he’s got everything he needs right in front of him. ”some things never change,” he informs you. pleased. ”just look at us.”

and he’s right. so you don’t say anything else. 

but your heartbeat quickens, only for a beat or two, and you’re almost certain he feels it. if he does, he opts not to tease you for once, and you’re grateful. and so the silence lingers. as if time has begun to freeze, into an eternal dusk, a string of silent seconds. broken only by low melodic chirping from faraway fields, his soft breaths in your ear. 

until satoru suddenly chuckles.

“hey,” he hums, shifting a little, the river swaying around you. pulling back to meet your gaze, eyes crinkled and voice raspy. “wanna know a secret?”

you raise your head. a dubious look on your face, one that has him breathing out an amused puff of air, like you’re getting ready to hear a bad joke. “... what is it?”

before the words have fully left your throat, he’s resting his forehead against yours — breath fanning over your lips. a pleasant shiver trails down your spine, at the close proximity, goosebumps spreading across your chilled skin. only exacerbated by the whisper that follows, so quiet you almost don’t know if you heard him correctly. childlike in its sincerity. a sunlaced smile woven in between the vowels.

“i think i was born to meet you.”

(a sentiment so sweet you barely even feel the warmth of his lips meeting yours.)

[betweenblackberrybranches]

RLGL au guys getting ready to go out on a date♡

My favourite throuple

[crazyforhwa]

Between hard and soft hours tbh but I really can’t stop thinking about a lazy make out session with Seonghwa… with lots of tongue obviously because come on, it’s Seonghwa.

It’d feel so amazing to just have a whole make out session with him, hands on each other’s face or neck.. and maybe an other member (*cough* Choi San) witnessing it and ending up joining the fun……

✩LAZY MAKE OUT SESSIONS WITH SEONGHWA✩

anon, that's so fucking hot.. (seonghwa is just hot yk)

I feel like lazy make out sessions with him usually happen during gloomy or winter days, as he thinks it feels the most romantic that way. He would be the one to initiate them by doing seemingly innocent things that end with him pushing his tongue past your lips in no time.

It would be such a mess, the perfect contrast between lust and love. Just two bodies laying on the bed, some rnb music playing quietly in the background to spice up the mood.

I feel like he's the 'breathy moans' type of guy. Whining into your mouth, describing how much he desires you.. that's what he's into. He isn't afraid of letting out sounds, and he expects you to let out some too, especially when other members are around. It definitely makes him hard as a rock, knowing that his colleagues are listening.

And oh boy.. talking about exhibitionism, I feel like he would purposely leave his door not fully closed, BEGGING in his mind that somebody(ehem, San) would catch you guys in the act. And don't even start on joining. I don't think he would be 100% comfortable with every member, but he would definitely share you with San, Hongjoong or Wooyoung (boy would be already close just by seeing them play with you).

We all have seen that fucking tongue of his. it's long, pointy, and he knows how to use it. he constantly sticks it out during performances, so I imagine him to be an absolute freak. He wins every battle for dominance, even at such slow paced moments.

Spit. SPIT. He loves when your make out sessions are messy, long strings of saliva forming whenever he detaches his plump lips from yours. He would randomly pull away just to stick his tongue out and let his spit slowly drip into your mouth, quickly getting back to business after.

Let's also mention that not every make out session with him is just lips. Oh no no, he is paying attention to everything. Sometimes he lowers himself and plants soft pecks against your neck. Sometimes he gently bites your earlobe, his warm breath tickling your skin. And sometimes he just smothers your whole face with smooches, grinning while he does so. He is a man of passion, but in these moments he just loves to chill out and show you love in a slightly different way.

Oh, and that smirk of his. He would grab different parts of your body unexpectedly, making you let out soft gasps that would trigger his cocky smile. Sometimes it'd be an innocent booty grab, but one second later his hand is slowly sliding under your shirt, his warm fingers exploring your body, getting closer to the sensitive areas on your chest.

After about half an hour, he will lose the ability to think straight. His hand would slide into your pants and quickly find your opening, slowly forcing two fingers into your tight hole. He would hit every sweet spot while still kissing you, getting "annoyed" and spanking you every time you get distracted by the pleasure.

Oh, yes.

I love him, man😭😭😭😭

should I make it a fic? 👀 (I feel like this is way too short, I'm sorry)

[an-established-butt-dent]

'Dreamers' A quiet evening

Solas x Lavellan, available as print here.

Mixed media on paper

[teddybeartoji]

thinking a lot of thoughts about bf!gojo :(

he will be the sweetest bf ever.. it's a bit concerning with how attached he is to you, bordering on codependency but he just cant help it he loves you too much :(( everytime youre both together on something like lunch with friends or hanging out the sight of you two is enough to give anyone who spares a glance cavities.. his eyes are so in love and hes always got that dopey smile on his face, his touch is always gentle and caring despite him being a teasing asshole sometimes 😭

and behind closed doors ... dear god this man is INSATIABLE.. always has to have a hand around you and touching you !!!! and his sex drive.. erm.. yeah.. idk i see him as the type to want to do it everyday because he just loves you too much and he doesnt know what to do with himself and all this love he has !!!! theres something sweet about him just always wanting you and wanting to make you feel good eufnhffhehrjfnf

the stark difference between you two being such a sweet couple in public but also .. having seen each other INSIDE OUT quite literally is so hot and cute.. :( that level of intimacy .. :((( BF!GOJO WE NEED YOU !!!!!! ok this has gotten too long im sorry HAVE A GOOD DAY THANK YOU

HIIII MY SWEETHEART I'M SORRY FOR THE WAIT!!!! BUT I'M HERE I'M HERE I'M HERE!!!!! I'M HERE AND I'M FEELING TERRIBLY SOFT FOR HIM AND I NEED TO HAVE HIM IN MY ARMS RIGHT THIS INSTANT!!!!!!! i agree with everything you've said nonnie!!!! and i am covering you in kisses as thanks!!!! mwah mwah mwah!!!! wait also!!!!!!!!!!!! more exclamation marks!!!!!! please please please don't apologize for rambling!!!!!!!!!! i will always hear you out!!!!! i want more actually!!!!!!!!!!!! please!!!!!!!!!!!!! i love you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

ok everybody get comfortable bc i have some of bf!gojo headcanons for you!!!!

his pupils are literal hearts whenever he's with and whenever he's Thinking about you!!!! (i'm saying that his pupils are always like that)(he is simply unable to get you off his head)(he's not even trying)(he's so fucking in love with you).

he's constantly resting his head on your head or on your shoulder. this just came to me. he wraps his hands around your middle and he always gives you a squeeze!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and a kiss on your neck. and he probably (read: definitely) smells you. and then hums into your skin. omfg i need to hug him so badly. i am losing my mind here nonnie...

okay and i just talked abt him taking naps with you too, right? and i just can't stop thinking about him always taking pics of you whenever you fall asleep on top of him:(((((((((((((( drooling or not, he's taking the pic!!!!!! AND i truly believe that he has begged (literally begged down on his hands and knees) shoko and suguru, so that they'll take pics of the two of you together aswell!!! satoru has a folder with like a THOUSAND pics of you both just napping together:((( he goes through it whenever he's really missing you:(((((((

ok and he loves taking showers and baths with you. loves, loves, loves. he just wants to sit under or in the water with you, just feeling your skin against him. feeling your heartbeat against him. he likes the intimacy of it all. it's so tender and so soft and so loving and he just wants to do everything with you. he's gonna take a fucking piss with you if you'd only let him.

he loves your smile sm. this is such a basic little concept but he does. nothing else in this sick world brings him as much joy as your smile and laughter. and oh my fucking god his heart feels like it's going to explode whenever he makes you laugh (which is all the time let's be honest he's very fucking funny and he is not afraid of making himself look like a fool just for you<3). he loves it when you laugh at cat videos, he loves it when you laugh at whatever the fuck is playing on the tv and he loves it when you laugh at a joke one of his friends make!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! he goes a little insane whenever he sees you having fun with his friends:((((((((((((((((((((( it just means the world to him:(((( and you and the younger ones too!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! omfg when he sees you coddling gumi and yuuji and nobara:((((((((((((((((( stop, he literally feels like he's going to cry every time i am also crying i can't do this anymore

btw he always swings your hands whenever his fingers are interwiened with yours!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ahhhh!!!!!!! and he has that big dopey smile on his lips again and his dimples are showing and he's laughing so loudly that everybody is turning to look at you both on the street but you couldn't care any less!!!!!!! how could you when your boyfriend is making your heart grow twice the size it was before and you just feel so giddy and so full of love and you want to kiss him stupid!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

he loves spending his morning with you. i actually think of him as more of a morning person actually idk how popular that concept is but yeah. don't get me wrong - he refuses to let you up from the bed for at least an hour after you wake up but he does have a lot of energy. he wants to kiss and he wants to hug and he wants to tickle and he wants you to play with his hair and he wants and he wants and he wants and you will give and give and give!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! he's a little lovesick puppy and he needs your attention like he needs air!!!!!

and then he wants you to brush his teeth for him. yes. you read that right. he sits you down onto the bathroom counter and bares his teeth at you like the puppy that he is and HE'S SO FUCKING CUTEEEEEE FUCKKKK CUTENESS AGGRESSION IS SO REAL I NEED TO JUST SQUEEZE HIM A LITTLE AAAAAAAAAAA I NEED TO PINCH HIS CHEEEKS!!!!!!!!!!!! he still looks sleepy and his smile is so fucking big and his hands are resting on your hips, his thumbs are drawing hearts into your skin. and he most definitely kisses you before he actually rinses his mouth.............. and then laughs when the toothpaste gets all over you. it's a mess and he's laughing and you're in love.

he loves it when you baby him. he does ask for it as a joke but when you genuinely do it he gets a little flustered. the tips of his ears always turn into a shade of dark pink and he's looking at you like puss in boots. you know what i'm talking abt. big eyes, fluttering eyelashes - he loves you so fucking much. he loves it when you tuck him in bed, he loves it when you kiss his nose, he loves it when you pinch his cheeks i am biased i just said i want to do that don't look at me, he loves it when you tickle him!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WAIT STOP HE LOVES IT WHEN YOU TICKLE HIM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!! HE WANTS YOU TO STRADDLE HIM AND TICKLE THE LIVING FUCK OUT OF HIM HE WANTS TO LAUGH WITH YOU!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i died

he also loves it when you cling to him. in any way. hands around his neck, around his body, around his arms - it does not matter. he wants you to quite literally climb him like a tree. he loves it when you snuggle into him and when you refuse to let him go. and when you hold his hand and try to stop him from leaving. he's not going to go. it doesn't take a lot for him to give into you. he's folding immediately. he doesn't want to go either. he loves it when you're needy. he loves it when you whine. he loves it when you tease him. he might pop a boner. at everything you do. he just loves you sooooooooooo muchh!!

18+ HE IS INSATIABLE!!!!!!!!!!!!! HE IS THEE LOVERBOY!!!!!! i think he does like to get a taste of you every single day, no matter whether it's actually having sex or it's eating you out or it's just making out or it's entertaining you with his beautiful slender fingers or it's dry humping etcetcetc. he wants to touch you, he wants to feel you - it's a must!!

i already said it but he loves intimacy!!!! like yeah ofc he likes his freaky sex as much as the next guy (he most definitely likes it more than the next guy) but he loooooves when he can just be in the moment with you!! he's always savouring you - holding your hand when his burying his dick deep inside you, he's snaking his arm around your body as he grinds into you from behind. he's licking and nipping at your skin because he just can't get enough of you. he's sucking on your tongue, he's pressing your hips down against his, he's kissing every fucking inch of your body. i truly think he wants to eat you and he wants to devour you and he wants to merge the two of you together forever<33

okay i have officially melted away... i am a puddle of love Goo... ily nonnie

[sluttylittlewaistenthusiast]

╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all the fanfics i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!) some will have summaries if provided <3

ᡣ𐭩 how you can help palestine . fic recs m.list

@runa-falls

⭒ Cocktails

you finally gain enough courage to make a move on your best friend

⭒ Secret Third

⭒ Did You Just Kiss Me?

@softlyspector

⭒ Disaster

Marc's mental health takes a turn for the worse when you give him some news. After chasing him to Chicago, you, Steven, and Jake are left to pick up the pieces.

⭒ making out with Steven. that is all

⭒ surprising them with affection they aren't used to

⭒ why won't you let me take care of you?

@soonknight

⭒ Jake Lockley (fucking you against the bathroom counter)

He's anything but gentle, but you wouldn't have him any other way.

⭒ Deserve

Marc never stays with you after he fucks you. You are better left in the hands of Steven. This time, he doesn't leave you.

⭒ "I thought we agreed to share her?"

@ichorai

⭒ dlz

jake lockley wasn't your husband. steven and marc were. jake was just... he was just there. a ghost living in your house.

⭒ Stork Owl

you often walked around with a storm cloud hanging over your head. good thing steven always carried an umbrella.

⭒ Love Dog

your neighbor was delusional. he cried a lot, spoke of nonsensical happenings, and always appeared somewhat lost. you found yourself to be rather fond of him.

⭒ I Was Just A Kid

khonshu wanted you dead. marc just wanted you.

@writefightandflightclub

⭒ A Lasting Impression

Steven falls asleep on you. No… I mean literally on you.

⭒ Just Right

Marc joined the Marines thinking he might finally belong somewhere. Turned out, he belonged next to you.

@eyelessfaces

⭒ Drenched Flowers

you and marc had a serious fight and have been avoiding each other since. the tension is hard to handle for everyone, and your only wish is to make things right again between you and marc, only he strictly refuses to front.

⭒ Tired and Wounded

marc comes home bleeding and refuses to talk about it, you beg him to let you take care of his injuries.

@psithurista

⭒ Stuck

You stop by Steven's place one night after work. Somebody else answers his door.

@redeyerhaenyra

⭒ Sleeping Beauty

After having sex with Jake, you both fall asleep in your flat. Only, it's not Jake that wakes up, it's Steven.

@mcondance

⭒ giving Steven head

@sinsofsummers

⭒ Insatiable

you can never get enough of marc. and marc? he's not complaining.

@fettuccin-e

⭒ Its Never Easy

⭒ Man in the Mirror

Steven knows it’s wrong, God, it’s fucking wrong, but it’s like he can’t stop himself.

⭒ Gold-Skinned and Eager

⭒ A Soft Ray of Sunlight

@sarahghetti

⭒ Blood On Your Mind

after an argument with marc, you go missing. he tears himself apart trying to find you.

⭒ All the Echoes in My Mind

marc falls victim to his own self-doubt. you get caught in the crossfire.

@bits-and-babs

⭒ Chocolate

After weeks of pining for your coworker Steven Grant, sharing chocolate over a late shift causes sparks to fly.

@bruhstories

⭒ Canopic Jar

marc is exasperated by you, but he needs to behave because you're steven's girlfriend.

@spctrsgf

⭒ Cake

@peterman-spideyparker

⭒ Domestic Adonis

Steven gets some new reading glasses that make your heart skip a beat and make you think of something. One night in bed as the two of you read, you voice this opinion to him. When you get back from a work trip one week later, boy are you in for a treat.

@stormkobra-5

⭒ Hold Me Close

Having been against touch all your life, now that you have three loving boyfriends, you’re overwhelmingly clingy. Cuddles, hand-holding, standing so close you’re up against them; but sometimes that’s just not close enough.

⭒ Puzzles

Steven’s not rough with you, like Marc or Jake. He’s more… Reserved. But he will wreck your shit if you ask nicely.

@luvpedropascal

⭒ First Time

[alwayshinny]

Hinny 🍂 🍃- AU where Hinny grew up together and everyone lived

Lily gazed out the window as she took a sip of her tea. It had been over an hour since Harry whispered into his godfather’s ear and dragged him outside to rummaged through the leaves. Every so often Sirius would pick up a leaf and show it to him, and Harry would dramatically slap his forehead before explaining something to him. Sirius rolled his eyes, dropped the leaf, raised his hands in defeat, and continued rummaging through the leaves again.

“What is he looking for?” Marlene asked.

“I have no idea,” she replied, shaking her head.

She opened the back door to let him know the Weasley’s would be over any second and smirked when her son’s ears perked up as he came bolting into the house with a handful of leaves in his hand. He eagerly waited in front of the fireplace and kept glancing back and forth between the clock and fireplace while he hid the leaves behind his back. She gave him a curious look, but before she could question him, a herd of redheads dashed through the floo in pairs.

Once they all greeted each other and the chaos had somewhat settled down, James nudged her and pointed to the corner of the living room where their son was blushing while talking to the youngest Weasley. She too had something hidden behind her back. They counted to three and presented each other with a handful of leaves before breaking into a fit of giggles. The only difference between their piles was that Harry’s was an assortment of reds and browns, while Ginny’s were green.

Harry gently picked up an orangey red leaf from his pile and placed it by Ginny’s hair and said, "See, it’s the same color," before picking up a brown leaf and placing it beside her eyes and saying, “And this one too!” Clearly pleased with himself.

Ginny giggled as she placed her pile of green leaves on the table, tilted Harry’s head down slightly, carefully pushed his glasses into his hair, and tapped her chin as she compared each green leaf to his eyes.

Lily tired not to laugh as Harry’s face got increasingly red and his eyes widened the closer she got to him. “This one!” She squealed and jumped up excitedly.

Ron huffed loudly in frustration, “Can we finally go play Quidditch now?”

Ginny rolled her eyes at her brother before returning Harry’s glasses to his nose and smiling sweetly at him as they placed the three leaves on the opposite side of the table. Ginny got a mischievous look in her eyes as she tugged Harry’s hand, sprinting towards the door, and yelled behind her, “Last one outside has to wear Aunt Muriel’s knickers for a whole day!”

“HEY! I'M NOT DOING THAT AGAIN!” Ron yelled as he ran behind them. His legs were longer, but those two were quick on their feet, weaving through everyone and spirting out the door.

Sirius snorted and shook his head as he placed his arm around James’ shoulder. “And I thought you had it bad, Prongs. At least your son has more game than you, and he’s far more handsome. Hmm he must get it from his godfather.”

“OI! I have plenty of game, and the ladies find me plenty handsome, okay. Just the other day, Bathilda Bagshot, Griselda Marchbanks, AND Augusta Longbottom called me a sight for sore eyes. Tell him, Lily!” James argued. Lily chose that moment to quickly slip out into the backyard with Marlene and the rest of the Weasleys, playing Quidditch sounded far more appealing than dealing with those two.

[loserboyfriendrjl]

"you're pretty," sirius says lazily, his fingers tangled in remus' curls; he doesn't know how to respond to that.

he doesn't think he's pretty. his nose is too big and crooked, his eyebrows are too thick, his face is uneven; his mouth and eyes are too big for his face, he has acne scars and of course, the ones he hates. he never was pretty, not even as a child, and he never wished to be. he considered beauty subjective, but it was a truth that he wasn't beautiful.

however, when he's with sirius, he can't help but feel so. he's with sirius, who makes everything seem so beautiful; sirius, who's as imperfect as he is. neither of them is perfect; and maybe that was important, maybe that was what made them who they were, that they saw the beauty in what they considered ugly, that they loved the "unlovable".

they're sitting on the floor of the ruins of the castle in remus' hometown, sirius' back pressed against the wall, remus' head in his lap. he looks up and he meets grey eyes and a straight nose, and he smiles. he sits up; they're at approximately the same level now, and amber blends into silver, and that, that, the place where remus ends and sirius begins and the place where neither knows who exactly is who, that is beautiful.

"you're pretty, too, sirius." he needn't have said that; it was one of those all-known truths, the ones written in books, the one that stars know, too.

sirius hums, and kisses him. he's beautiful; they both are.

[funishment-time]

despite The Horrors, so many things in UDG really are just a hilarious concept because like. in DR3 we see the Remnants all going out into the world to Fuck Shit Up. and then Nagito is quite literally just babysitting an army of 10 year olds that really needed a time out

[concreteburialplot]

The Wonder Of You

pairing: nicholas ruffilo x fem!reader

masterlist: here | crossposted: ao3 | word count: 4.5k

summary: you surprise your boyfriend with festive lingerie for his birthday. he shows you just how grateful he is with all the love he has in his corazón.

warnings: sweet, soft, FLUFFY, making love, soft dom!nick, festive (xmas-y), established dom/sub relationship, quite domestic, fingering/handjob, oral [m receiving], throat fucking, p n v, creampie, praise, again nick has a big fat one sorry it's just canon at this point - massive cocks are rare but he's got one ok, 18+ MDNI

a/n: happy birthday nicky🩷

And when you smile, the world is brighter You touch my hand, and I'm a king

Your kiss to me is worth a fortune Your love for me is everything

I'll guess I'll never know the reason why You love me as you do

That's the wonder The wonder of you

- 𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙒𝙤𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧 𝙤𝙛 𝙔𝙤𝙪 // 𝙀𝙡𝙫𝙞𝙨 𝙋𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙡𝙚𝙮

Your boyfriend sits in the living room while you spend time curating the perfect set up for his birthday in your bedroom. You already lit the candles, mostly unscented but some which smell like a warm campfire and one that smells like candy cane, because you know he likes that one especially. There’s a playlist softly playing in the background, curated with a mix of his favorite songs that set a tone, lots of Deftones of course.

You undress and pile your clothes on top of the hamper before slipping on the set you bought for his birthday. It was lacy red triangles covering your breasts and it flowed down over your torso in a light mesh. You step into what is really a joke and an overstatement of being called underwear – it was just a couple of straps, completely bare in the middle between your legs. A pair of puffballs hang just above your ass and the edges of the babydoll top are lined in white fluff. Stepping in front of the full-length mirror you smooth out the mesh and take in your silhouette. Your immediate reaction is discomfort, feeling like these are clothes you don’t belong in. The outfit is too revealing, too holiday-y, too colorful, too much.

But you know how much he loves Christmas and how much he won’t care what you’re wearing once he sees you in lace. Man brains are quite simple after all, he probably won’t be able to tell you the color of the outfit when he’s done with you.

You sigh, making a mental note to push your insecurities to the side for the night and try to just embrace your sensuality for him.

Your hand hesitates before turning the doorknob and peaking your head out. He must’ve gotten bored since you see him working on some tattoo design on his iPad.

“Okay. Ready.” You say quickly before shutting the door and making it to the edge of the bed. You sit and unwrap a candy cane to suck on.

It’s clear he was unsure what exactly he was walking into by the surprised look on his face as he takes in the room before landing on you.

“Oh.” His eyes wide and locked on you. “This is what you’ve been working on?” He asks, crossing the room over to you. “What’s all this for?”

“Your birthday silly.” You place the end of the candy cane in your mouth and pull it out with a pop, your eyes fixated on his.

He glances over at the clock on the nightstand reading 11:14 pm. “Well, it’s not my birthday quite yet.”

“I figured we could start off strong.” You shrug, “I’m sure by the time we’re done it’ll be your birthday anyway.”

“Quite a bold assumption, with how fucking good you look.” He jokes, not being able to stay off your body.

“Mmm.” You hum around the candy cane before pulling it out to speak. “I’m sure we can make it last.”

You find his wrist and carefully bring it down while you part your legs for him, letting his fingers find your exposed pussy.

His eyes round at the discovery, “Fuck you’re so wet already.” He mumbles, cupping your cheek to tilt your face up to him. “You’re this wet just from wanting to please me?”

You hum an “mhm” around the sugary cane looking up at him.

His fingers glide up your folds exploring you while his eyes can’t look anywhere besides your occupied mouth. “Fuck baby.” The hand on your cheek slides down to around your throat, gently with no pressure. “I need that to be my cock in your mouth.”

You knew it wouldn’t take long for him to slip into his usual self. You hook your finger at the curve in the cane and slide it past your lips, letting your lips stay parted for him.

“Mmm.” His hand around your throat slithers up to your jaw and tugs his thumb across your lips before dipping it into your mouth. You instantly wrap your lips around his finger and suck on him just as you would his cock. Your eyes never leave his as you do so.

“Oh, what a good girl, getting a head start.” He praises which only fuel you.

You hum and nod around his finger while your hands fumble to find his zipper. You waste no time trying to palm him over his jeans, you don’t want to keep him waiting on his birthday after all. You tug his pants and underwear down past his knees, letting his hard cock spring free smacking against his stomach. No matter how long you’ve been together the sight of his size never ceases to amaze you. It never fails to fill your tummy with excitement and fear.

You don’t hesitate to begin working his length in your hands. His skin is silky smooth to the touch and the blood rushing through his member makes his veins so prominent beneath your fingertips.

The feeling of your hands has his eyes fluttering closed for just a second. His fingers never halted between your legs, now slipping into your entrance.

He leans down and presses his forehead against yours before pulling his thumb from your mouth. His gray-blue eyes lovingly track yours as he holds your jaw gently. “You are so pretty.” He says softly in the space between you two, so quiet you’d think the room was full of people and he only wanted you to hear.

A blush coats your cheeks, and you shake your head. “No, no. I look so silly.”

“Uh uh,” He nudges his nose against yours sweetly, “You know better than to say no to me.”

A small smile tugs at your lips, because for some reason it makes you feel so safe when he asserts himself like that. “Yes sir.” You reply meekly.

The edges of his lips tug up into a grin, “That’s my girl.” He whispers.

He pulls away just a bit to glance around the room, the red LED lights with the Christmas lights hung around the room and all the candles lit. “You did this all for me?” He asks quietly, holding your chin up.

“Of course.” You whisper back, looking up at him in awe. Even when his hair in a messy bun and thick rimmed glasses, he’s still the most handsome man in the world to you. “You work so hard. You deserve a little fun. And what’s more fun than having me be a toy for you?”

A chuckle escapes his lips, “While I can’t argue with that, I don’t need all of this for my birthday. It’s just another day to me, you know that.”

“I know. But I love you.” You state softly, nuzzling your cheek against his palm. “You deserve everything, and I just want to make you feel good. I want to show you how much I love you.”

“I love you too.” He smiles and leans down to your lips pressing a long kiss against them. “Well, let’s get that pretty mouth of yours to work then, hm?”

Rosy-pink tints your cheeks and a flurry of butterflies swirl in your tummy. You nod and let him pull his fingers from you. He slips them into his mouth and sucks them clean, humming at your taste. “God, you taste so fucking good.”

“Sh.” You wave off his compliment, mostly because it worsens the warmth on your cheeks.

The bed squeaks a bit as you readjust to lay flat on your stomach to be level with his cock. Your mouth waters at the sight of it. Thick and massive, the first half of his shaft a darker shade of his olive skin tone, with the second half much lighter. His tip swollen and pink with a driblet of precum pooling at the head.

You take no time in licking a fat strip up his slit before taking his head into your mouth. He lets out a grunt at the stimulation of your warm mouth around him. His hand finds your head and tangles his fingers into your hair.

You savor him, rolling swirls on the underside of his cock and then circling around the tip. His head is so big it almost fills your entire mouth, so you use your hands to take care of the rest of his length as you begin bobbing on him.

“Fuck.” He groans, tugging at your hair a bit, “Fuck that feels so good.”

You swoon at the praise which makes you work harder. Your hands working him, squeezing around his shaft for extra stimulation. You move up and down on him, taking as much of him in your mouth as you can, letting him hit the back of your throat each time.

“God, look how good you are for me, taking me so well.” He grunts a bit, rutting his hips for work just a little, knowing that too much might hurt you.

Your heart swells at his words and the noises he’s making, you can tell how much he’s enjoying himself and that’s all you wanted. You wiggle your ass up a bit just to show off just how little the strappy lingerie covers you.

“Mmm.” He hums, his hand running down your back and squeezing a cheek before landing a hard smack against it.

While you half expected it, it still stings but it’s exactly what you wanted. You know he won’t hurt you too much tonight since he’s being so sweet but usually, he loves hurting you and you love taking it.

You whine around his member and take him even deeper down your throat. You try your best to suppress a gag the deeper you go on him, but it’s not that successful. His fingers curl stiffer around your hair at the sound and swivels his hips forward ever so slightly, enough to make you gag again. He chuckles at your struggle, deriving twisted pleasure out of it. When you don’t give him a warning sign he pushes further down your throat. His favorite thing is testing just how far you’ll go for him. He loves how hard you work for him, and he doesn’t take it for granted, he loves watching his best girl choke on his cock. 

You whine around him again and look up at him with your eyes filling with tears from the pain of his girth in your throat.

His lips pull to a sinister smirk at the sight of your makeup running down your face. “Oh my, look at you.” He loosens his grip in your hair and instead combs through it as he speaks. “You look so fucking gorgeous with your pretty mouth full of my cock.”

The praise alone has you nearly dripping on the bed and fills your heart with loving pride. You want nothing more than to please him and make him happy, especially on his birthday.

You moan with your mouth full and looking up at him through your thick lashes and he looks down at you in awe.

“Can I try something with you, my love?” He asks sweetly, as if he doesn’t have the power to command you to do whatever he wanted.

You pull off of him with a pop, nodding with a string of drool still hanging from his tip to your mouth.

“How about you lay on your back for me huh? Hang your head off the edge of the bed.”

Fear slithers up your spine at the idea of him having that much more access to your throat from that angle.

Nick picks up on your hesitation and bends down to your eyelevel, taking your chin gently between his fingers. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to baby. But I promise I’ll be gentle, okay? You can pat my thigh if you need me to stop.”

You tug at your bottom lip in thought but ultimately agree with an “okay” in an already raspy voice. You do as he asked and flipped onto your back, letting your head hang just off the mattress edge.

“Good girl.” He stretches out the words as he watches you put your body on display for him.

His leans down you as soon as you’ve settled. He uses both hands to gently finish brush all the rogue hairs away from your face and neck. His tattooed hands then find your cheeks and cupping them. “You are so goddamn beautiful.” He smiles, just taking in the wonder of you. “I can’t wait to make a mess out of you.”

You beam up at him and he can’t help but widen his grin. His thumb rubs your cheek tenderly before leaning down to press a kiss to your messy lips. He nudges his nose against yours, “I love you so fucking much, Princess.” He whispers.

Your heart swells at your favorite petname. With the way he treats you, he always made you feel like a princess, and he always made you feel so taken care of, so protected.

You were his. Completely, totally, entirely.

You belonged to him, and he belonged to you.

“I love you too Nicky.” You reply softly in the same low volume.

You let there be moment of comforting silence between you, your foreheads pressed against each other, his hands lovingly holding your head. You revel in the deep adoration you have for one another.

“I’m ready.”

“Okay my doll.” He presses another peck on your lips before returning to his original standing position.

He takes hold of his member by the base and uses it to press his swollen head against your partially parted lips. You open up for him, giving him full access to your mouth. He slides his length in, moving past your tongue immediately going for the throat. While the new position allows him to get deeper, you’re pleasantly surprised to find that it doesn’t trigger your gag reflex nearly as much as the previous position. This discovery allows you to relax and let him have his way with you.

He starts slow to test the water with long deep strokes but soon picks up speed. His hips thrust in and out of your mouth vigorously getting lost in it.

“Gah -  fuck.” He groans out in a hiss. His hand smothers down around your neck, pressing down on the sides a bit. He wanted to feel himself destroy your trachea.

He leans forward a bit, only shoving himself down your throat more, to trace his fingers down your front finding your closed, bent legs. He taps your thigh softly, “C’mon baby, let me see that pretty pussy of yours.”

You didn’t think it was possible to feel anything other than the monster in your throat but still, your cheeks heated up and a flutter grew between your legs.

You bend to him, like you always do, obeying him out of devotion not out of direction. His hand slides down your inner thigh as you spread for him. You feel a tinge of insecurity and maybe embarrassment in your revealing lingerie, the crotchless thong offering no coverage for you.

His fingers glide up between your folds, circling around your clit before reaching further down and gathering the juices at your entrance. From this angle he can’t dip inside you but god just the proximity of his touch has you pulsing around nothing. He retracts his reach and brings his fingers to his mouth, slipping them in desperately needing the taste of you. He groans around his fingers covered in your slick and continues to roll his hips harshly into your throat as he savors you.

“God, fuck baby.” He groans and slowly pulls from your throat. As uncomfortable as it was having him lodged there, it brings a vague feeling of emptiness. You love having him inside you, one way or another.

Drool connects his member to your mouth in strands, his cock coated in saliva.

“I need your fucking pussy baby. I need to feel you.” He says, slipping out of the rest of his clothes, his body on full display.

His body was tattooed almost completely. Most people wouldn’t consider a body like his anything special perse, he wasn’t muscular or toned really, mostly just lean. Except for some muscle in his arms from playing bass and lugging around instruments all the time. He’d been very skinny most of his life but as he’s gotten older there was thin extra layer around his tummy, which you loved. As long as you’d known him, he never liked to show much skin, he was never one to be shirtless for no reason. Which you never really understood because to you, he was the most attractive man in any room. But since he wasn’t fond of showing skin, there were parts of him only you got to see. Tattoos only you knew were there and knew the stories of. Tattoos only you got to trace with your fingers and your tongue.

Loving him and catering to him was an art only you knew.

You nod and sit up, but before you even get a chance to breathe, he’s grasped your thighs and tugged you the edge of the bed. He whisks you up prompting you to wrap your legs around his hips. Your arms slink around his neck and you once again press your forehead against his, this time getting a good view of his eyes. In the dim light with the faint red glow from the light strips, his eyes look extra green. You loved how his eyes could change depending on the setting. It amazed you how no matter the color, blue, green or grey, they always looked perfect for him.

“You are so, so good for me. I couldn’t ask for a better girl.” He says softly.

“You mean that?” You ask past the strain in your throat, leaning forward a bit to be even closer with him.

“Of course, my darling. Look at all you’ve done for me, and how good you make me feel.” He gushes.

“I do?” You hum ghosting against his lips.

“Mhm.” He hums back.

He pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, you reciprocate, tangling your fingers in his messy black hair before lengthening the kiss. It’s soft, sweet, loving, patient.

It doesn’t take long for the kiss to escalate into a passionate flame. He climbs up onto the bed clumsily with you still wrapped around him. He carefully drops you in the middle of bed, your head landing on plush pillows without interrupting your kiss.

Your lips and tongues dance together as his hands wander your body. His soft hands gliding your every curve beneath the thin babydoll mesh. He detaches from your lips and begins kissing down your neck. His breathing is rapid and needy.

“I love you. I love every part of you,” He says hastily between open mouth kisses. “Every fucking part.”

You’re dizzy with how much you love him. “I love you too.”

He’s so fucking worked up that he’s already rutting the tip of his cock up and down your folds, putting pressure against your buzzing clit.

You whine at the sensation of his tip against your sensitivity and his sucking on the weak spot on your neck. Your hand tangles in his hair, gripping it with need.

As much as you don’t want to interrupt the sweetness of it all, you need him in a much different way. “Please fuck me, fuck I need your cock so fucking bad please.” You beg, the ache between your thighs screaming for relief.

He chuckles against your neck, even though you can tell he needs it just as bad. It doesn’t take much to bring you both back to your normal depravity. “Hm. You’re gonna have to do better than that. What is it you need baby?”

You groan a bit in defiant impatience. “Your cock. I need your fucking cock.”

“Hm. A little sassy are we? Not even a please that time.” He rolls his hips into you, sliding the underneath of his length between your soaked lips. “Let’s try again. Be more specific, what do you want?”

You huff, over his delaying. “I want your big fat fucking cock to fuck me raw. Please.”

“That’s my good girl.” The edges of his lips curl to a smirk, “Well. I think we can arrange that.”

Before you could even respond he’s already pressed his tip into your entrance. He wants to ram right into you, you can tell, but he knows better than that. He’s gotten really good at knowing how to stretch you out properly. His thumb finds your sensitive nub and begins rolling tight circles into it to help you relax around him.

“That’s it baby.” He reassures you. “You’re doing so good for me.” He fills you slowly, inch by inch carefully until he’s bottomed out. You hiss at the pain of him inside you. He fills you entirely and the stretch burns at first but sweetens when he begins moving in and out of you. Deep grumbly groans fill his chest at the feeling you tight around him.

“Fuck.” You wince a bit but let your eyes flutter close.

His movements start slow, but you feel his restraint bubbling beneath your fingertips like a volcano. “You’re doing such a good job, Princess, taking me so fucking good.” He groans into your neck.

His fingers work diligently on your pulsing clit, helping ease the pain a bit. You’ve been worked up all night thinking about this moment, combined with how his cock reaches the deepest parts of you and how his fingers work where you need him, you feel like you could explode any second.

“I’m trying to go slow baby, but you just feel so fucking good.” He says between the breathy moans that escape him. His actions match his statement, his hips working in quick but deep thrusts in and out of you.

You whine loudly at his words, only worsening you impending climax. Tingle fill your body down to your legs that wrap around his waist. You love seeing and feeling just how much he can’t control himself with you. The knot in your tummy is so tight it feels like it’s about to snap.

“I’m close.” You warn hastily, unsure of how much longer you’ll last – and you know he won’t like it if you don’t ask for permission first. “Can I cum? Please – fuck, please I’m so close.”

His fingers on your clit speed up just a bit to help you over your finish line. “Cum for me baby, c’mon cum all over my cock.”

Bright ecstasy blooms from where he works on you, sending a blazing buzzing across your skin. Explosions fill your tummy and your heart beats so fast it feels like it could rupture.

“Don’t fight it Princess, go ahead, give in to me.” He hums just beneath your ear.

Your nails dig deep into his back as your spine curves violently up from the mattress. Screams curses and moans rip through your chest and fill the room.

“Oh my, there we go.” His thrusts speeding up beginning to chase his own orgasm. “That’s my good girl, cumming so hard for me.”

His deep raspy voice and the way he’s talking you through with a bit of overstimulation from his persistent fingers pushes you over a different edge, feeling yourself squirt your juices all over his cock.

“Oh, look at that,” He lets out a strained groan. “I know it’s so much isn’t it?”

You cling onto him, biting down on his shoulder as you ride out your orgasm. His thrusts get quick and sloppy and hard, probably getting pushed over his own edge by the way your walls spasm around him.

“Fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He growls, his hands sliding beneath your thighs and hooking behind your knees to keep you in place. He slams hard into you repeatedly until he goes rigid, and you feel his cock twitch inside you – which with how large he is, is a bit painful but you love it. Milky white paints your walls and fills you up fully, pouring out of you before he even pulls out.

He rests atop of you and lets himself soften a bit before pulling from you. It’s an odd feeling being so full then being so empty, but at least you have his cum pooling inside of you for now.

He falls next to you and your chests rise and fall in time. After you’ve both come down a little, you look over at each other with glossy eyes and soft smiles.

-

After you both have showered and cleaned up, you change into some cozy pajamas. A unplanned cold front had rolled in so the warmest pajamas you had were matching Christmas ones. Nicholas lit the fireplace while you made your signature hot chocolate.

You cozy up next to him on the couch, beneath a blanket and a cat or two. The fireplace warmth and the lit Christmas tree are the only things lighting the room besides the glow of the mostly full moon from outside the window. You nestle your head on his shoulder and watch the fire crackle beneath the hung stockings – one for each of you and for each cat.

The heat of the hot cocoa almost burns your tongue – just almost, just like you like it. The hot drink fills your chest, warming you from the inside. Your eyes drift to the lit Christmas tree you had put up just a couple days ago. You can’t help but smile at how each ornament has a special memory attached. You take it in and appreciate it now because it is a miracle the tree lasted even this long with the cats trying to climb it every chance they got.

Even though you wanted to wait, he was so excited to put it up after Thanksgiving that you couldn’t say no. You can rarely say no to him, especially when his eyes are so bright. Holidays weren’t ever your thing, but he always made them so special. Being with him is a dream, so you savor the magic he brings.

You’ll love the holidays, as long as you have him to celebrate with.

You snuggle into him shivering a bit before looking up at him, catching him admiring the fire and the tree too.

“Hey.” You say quietly to catch his attention but not disrupt the peace. He looks down at you, with eyes so fully of contentment. “Happy birthday.”

The edges of his mouth curl into a happy grin. “Thank you, my love.” He kisses your forehead, “You didn’t have to do all of that for me.”

If you were more awake, you’d tease him and ask if he was complaining but you were far too drained for that.

“I know, but I wanted to. Because I love you.” You plant a peck on his shoulder.

“I’ll never understand why you love me as you do.” He states, using the hand not occupied with a mug to find and hold yours. “But god, am I grateful. You truly are the love of my life.”

You can’t hide the wide smile that stretches across your face and the blush that coats your cheeks. “And you are mine, Nicholas.”

tag list; i don't currently have a general tag list for all my fics so if you'd like to be added to that pls lmk!

a/n; thank you for reading if you did! i'm not that good at writing smut or fluff so sorry if it wasn't that great! this is probably the fluffiest thing ive ever written and im embarassed 🫣

Thank you for any support you guys ever give me on any of my works, it truly means the world to me that you guys enjoy my words and lil plots.

let me know if you liked it! i love hearing your thoughts🥰🩷

[inevitablestars]

ever since

Regulus moves to New York to the home he inherited from his parents to start fresh. Six months in he takes cover from the rain and meets James. Their lives couldn't be more different, but that's the fun of it, sharing it with each other.

chapter one out now

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 100

one-fuckin-hundred! Let's go!

What if Jaskier and Geralt kk;ijsss ed nghh,; and h hheld hwands

[betweenblackberrybranches]

Castle in the sky AU ahoy

This belongs with that first chapter of the CitS AU that i posted last week

Just a first look at the guy

Its just a little side project for comfort