#number 2 x you

[erosology]

slow, sloppy makeout sessions with captain john price :( him coming home late from work, dark, puffy bags under his eyes and the stench of cigars clinging to his skin as an indicator of how stressful the day was. His strong brow furrowed in frustration but smooths out once he sees you; his hands reaching out to you and immediately pulling you in as soon as you’re within arm’s reach; wrestling you into his clutches so you two can watch a movie and unwind together; wandering fingers tracing the bare skin of your hip as your shirt hikes up higher and higher before splaying flat across your stomach; feeling his breath dance across the back of your neck as you try your hardest to follow along to the plot

“this part is really important, sweetheart,” he whispers into your ear. “you need to pay close attention”

but you can’t—not when his familiar scent is filling your nose and you can feel the strong, reliable beat of his heart knocking against his ribs and his fingers are grazing against the band of your underwear. and somewhere along the way, you find yourself facing him and all of the beauty that is him and nearly go blind with love and lust, delicate fingers tracing the outline of your eyes as if teasing to tear them out. it’d be worth it, you think, worth having the last thing you see be your lover’s tired, handsome face

and after some more teasing and giggles, you feel his soft beard tickle your cheek and nearly melt into a puddle of desperation. hands shaking with need, you pull him closer by the collar of his shirt and a chuckle reverberates in his chest—low, sweet, tender

“eager, love?”

“jus’ wan’ you, john.”

“you've got me, silly girl. always have, always will”   

his fingers fiddle with the hem of your shirt as his chapped lips brush against your cheek, and then your nose, and then he slowly grazes them across yours before he slots them together. his kisses, much like him, start off slow, sensual, gentle until the sparks dance together and a fire inevitably starts and you’re choking on cigar smoke and love and other minuscule things. his calloused palms graze your thigh, stomach, sternum, anything that reminds him of how human you both are and how much he adores your skin. soft moans and groans blend together until someone opens their mouth and then suddenly, tongues are tangled together as you try and swallow each other’s pants

somewhere along the way, you’ve wound up in his lap, grinding against his hardening cock, and now his hands are on your hips and encouraging your movement. more moans tumble out of his lips followed by some curses, his lips swollen and his tongue swiping across them

“f-fuck, baby,” he pants. “slow down. i want to taste you a bit more, yeah? kiss me some more.”

and how can you resist? truth be told, you think you might be able to sit on this very couch for the rest of your life, legs wrapped around his waist and fingers tangled in his hair, lips working against his and pulling pretty noises out of his throat. and honest to god, he thinks he would allow it, maybe even indulge in it a little. because he’s here in his living room, some sort of movie he lost track of the plot of long ago playing on his television, your teeth brushing against his bottom lip as you suck it into your mouth, surrounded by love and relaxation

[zae-heeyyy]

Seraphic

Summary: You are Arthur's angel. Pairing: Arthur Morgan x female!reader Word count: 2,222 Tags: smut, high honor Arthur Warnings: 18+ MDNI

a/n: Whew 😅 I'm a little nervous to post this one. 🫣 Been sitting on it for a while (no pun intended) I've read and reread it a million times, and I'm ready to share. Also, we're pretending like Arthur's tent actually closes. Anyway thanks for reading!

Seraphic: something angelic or celestial in nature, often suggesting purity, beauty, or holiness.

By 1 a.m., the sounds of camp had reduced to the songs of crickets and the crackle of the fire. While everybody else slept, you waited up for Arthur, reading a book under lantern light in his tent. He arrived eventually, keeping his greeting short and joining you on his cot with slouched shoulders, seemingly exhausted. When he took his hat off, the grimace on his face became all the more apparent. His expression and tense body language told you all you needed to know; whatever happened out there wasn't good.

You handed him a match and a cigarette from his nightstand, and he thanked you with a nod. Using the heel of his boot, he struck the match and lit the cigarette, holding it with his thumb and index fingers. Flickering lantern light and the burning ember tip illuminated his bruised knuckles.

"Should I ask?" You traced a gentle finger over the bruises, and he shook his head.

"Best not," he replied, exhaling a ribbon of smoke.

"Well, I'm glad you're still in one piece," you said, looking him over. His shirt had seen cleaner, less wrinkled days, and sweat plastered his hair to his forehead. "Well, mostly in one piece."

He let out a gust of air, a failed attempt at a laugh, before pinching the bridge of his nose and groaning.

"Headache?" you asked, and he confirmed. The discomfort came with the life he lived. Loud gunfire, the rush of adrenaline, and focusing on his shots all combined to leave him in pain afterward. You exited the tent momentarily and returned with a bowl of warm water, a cloth, and a bottle of miracle tonic.

"Here—for your head." He took the medicine and snuffed his cigarette. Rejoining him, you sat on the cot and dabbed his face with the wet cloth, wiping away dirt and sweat. A soft kiss on his temple prompted him to lean into you, the tension finally dissipating. You wrapped your arms around his big frame and held him close. Obviously, he was your safe space, but oh—were you his. Eyes shut, he rested his head on your bosom.

Arthur found comfort in his typical role as protector and provider. But in these moments, when roles faded, he could feel the weight of the world lifted off his shoulders—a crushing weight he didn't even realize he was carrying. Being with you like this made him wonder if heaven was real because you were godsent.

To Arthur's dismay, you unraveled yourself from him to tie the tent flap closed, sealing the two of you away in the dark. Walking between his legs, you untied his neckerchief and dusted his soiled shirt.

"—Needs a wash. Your blood or someone else's?" you questioned, fingers undoing the top button.

"Not mine," he answered. Peeling the shirt off and tossing it aside, you studied him for a second time tonight. He'd seemed more relaxed than when he arrived, but his brow stayed brooding. Still positioned with his legs on either side of you, you caressed his face, one of your thumbs stroking the hairless scar on his chin.

"What else can I do?"

"You done enough; I'm fine." He gave your hand on his face a reassuring squeeze.

Leaning forward, you kissed him tenderly. His arms wrapped around your waist, drawing you nearer until your foreheads touched. You spoke low against his mouth, a playful grin forming on yours.

"You gotta stop getting yourself into so much trouble, Arthur Morgan."

Your demand was met with a chuckle, and he replied, "I'll do my best, darlin'." You peppered his lips with loving, tender kisses, making him smile against them and squeeze you tighter in a hug. You would do just about anything to see that man smile at you the way he did, all soft and endearing.

Your kisses subsided, but Arthur's affectionate gaze stayed fixed on you. The slight smile on his face had straightened, his expression mirroring the intensity of the one he wore when he first confessed his love for you.

"Got that look on your face," you told him, and he just blinked slowly, awestruck. Though he often swore he was a man of few words, he could fill volumes with his devotion for you. You loved it when he got like that, entranced and overwhelmed with love.

The way he watched you set a fire within you that warmed the most intimate parts of your being. He was surprised when you let yourself fall heavily into him, trying to get as close as possible. Maybe he was going to say something or make a noise, but he didn't have the time before your mouth was on his again, your tongue pushing through his lips to tangle with his. You only pulled away when you needed to breathe.

Instead of pressing your lips to his once more, you dropped to your knees in front of him. Eyes widening, he tried to bring you back up to your feet, shaking his head, once again astounded by you.

"Sweetheart—"

Still on your knees, you patted his cheek and looked up at him with doe eyes. "Shhh, let me take care of you, Arthur." His hand found yours on his face, and he turned to kiss it, nodding placidly. Both of you managed to keep your volume low as you helped him strip down to his union suit. You began working at the buttons of his neckline, doing more ripping than unbuttoning, shoving the fabric down his shoulders.

As more clothing fell away, you trailed sweet kisses down his abdomen. At the same time, his hands roamed wherever they could. The rough pads of his fingers lightly tracing your skin mirrored a faint electric charge. Despite being a brute of an outlaw, he was overly careful with his hands when it came to you; your body was fine china and deserved to be treated as such. Goosebumps formed in a wake left by his touch.

As you kissed down the trail of hair under his belly button, his rapid breathing hitched, and the bulge between his legs strained against the flannel fabric, begging to be unleashed. You tried to find his eyes as you groped him through the underwear, but his head was tipped back, his mouth agape.

"Look at me." You whispered, and he snapped to attention like a soldier following commands. Eyes locked on his, you unclasped the last button, and his length sprung free, the pink head of his cock primed with anticipation. A teasing laugh crept up within you as you trailed soft kisses from the base of his shaft and left one long lingering peck on the tip. The loud, rhythmic thumping of his heart was music to your ears. Not wanting to keep him waiting any longer, you took his entire length in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down, taking him deeper until your nose touched the curly hairs at the base.

Then he couldn't hold it in anymore; a deep, guttural groan escaped him.

Your mouth was the warmest, most intoxicating blanket he'd ever been wrapped in, and he never wanted to leave. He gaped at you, seeing your mouth full of him, his pupils dilated with pure lust. The blunt tip of his cock pressed to the back of your throat, making it constrict around him. His whole body shuddered.

"Look whatchu' do to me, woman," he rattled, tangling his hands in your hair. Despite his eagerness, you withdrew from his aching sex, a string of saliva joining your lips to him. Something reminiscent of a whine exited him when you stepped away, but his open mouth fell shut at the sight of your bloomers slipping down your legs. You kissed him, savoring the salty, bitter taste of his arousal mixed with the tobacco and herbs of his mouth.

"Lay back," you murmured in his ear. Obeying your command once again, he let out a grunt as he felt your weight on top of him. You straddled him, and he held you up, his fingers digging firmly into your sides. Bending at the waist, you kissed longingly, your hips undulating against his. He pulled your nightgown up around your midriff, one of his hands gripping the flesh of your ass while the other one went between your legs. His index finger sank painstakingly into your weeping cunt, then brushed over your clit, making you shiver. He raised himself on his elbows, reaching for the hem of your sleep dress.

"Take this off; let me see you." You raised your arms and let him yank the garment away, leaving you completely exposed on top of him. "Beautiful," he breathed, using the back of his hand to graze your skin. Breathy sighs escaped you as he traced delicate circles around your nipples. His eyes bored into you, absorbing every detail like you were the most captivating thing that ever lived. Hyperfocused on your body, he fondled your breasts before gliding his hands down your torso, ogling, taking all of you in.

Freezing, his stare intensified as you massaged the tip of his cock up and down your glistening slit. Touching his lips to yours, you pushed him into your wet folds. Neither of you could contain the sounds building with you. He split you open, stretching you, making room for him, filling you. You held yourself up with your hands braced on his chest, but you went weak as he bottomed out within you, brushing against that deep, tender spot. You would've fallen if he wasn't there to hold you up, a thought mirroring one he had about you so often.

"I got you," he whispered into your ear. It took every ounce of restraint he had not to snap his hips up into you, the warm embrace of your center clearing his mind and driving him mad all the same. Finally, you started to ride, surging and sinking into him. He was a simple, agnostic man, but being with you like this made him believe in all the theocracy of angels, soulmates, and divine intervention. This was his bliss. This was his heaven, and you were his seraph. He'd go through hell every day if it meant coming home to this—to you. Hypnotized in the rhythm of you, a new thought crossed his mind every time you bounced.

Up.

She's so goddamn beautiful.

Down.

So perfect.

Up.

My girl.

Down.

My girl, my girl, my girl, my girl.

Up.

My angel.

Down.

I love her so much.

Up.

So wet.

Down

So warm.

Up.

So danm tight.

Down.

Shit.

And before you could come back up again, he squeezed his eyes shut, halting your hips with all the strength he could muster, fighting the damn-near irresistible urge to cum inside of you. Sweat had built up on his brow, and his stomach rose and fell quickly with each panting breath. You folded to kiss him, your hard nipples grazing against his chest.

"It's okay," you whispered, patting his face and grinding antagonizingly slow against him. You wanted him—needed him— to come undone for you. With that goal in mind, you picked up the pace and rolled your hips relentlessly, moaning your every thought into his ear.

"You feel so good inside of me."

"I need you."

"I love you."

Your climax was building fast, and you reached to give relief to that sensitive bundle of nerves atop your center. Arthur pushed your hand away swiftly, replacing it with his own. Always a giver, he'd do anything to feel useful while you were treating him like royalty.

While one hand worked your clit, his other gripped the meat of your hip, rocking you in time with his upward thrusts. His head tipped and hit the pillow, and you could feel his thighs tensing and shaking beneath you. Lips parted, he stared up at you. You felt him twitch inside you, and his brow finally relaxed.

That did it for you.

You were wordless as your orgasm ripped through you, your head swirling, and your veins on fire. Arthur's guiding hand on your hip didn't stop, and he fucked you through your climax. Hugging your body close and nuzzling his face into your neck, he growled as he painted your inner core with his own release. You stayed like that, glued to each other as you came down from your highs.

"You're too good for me," he finally said. You clasped a hand into his, kissing the long-forgotten bruises on his knuckles.

"Shut up." You responded, and he didn't say another self-deprecating word. It was the least he could do.

You cleaned up and redressed, nestling into the small, one-man cot. Finally settled for the night, you resorted to your regular bedtime positions: your head on his chest, his arms wrapped securely around you, your legs tangled in one another's.

He rose before you in the morning, perching himself on the cot's edge while you slept behind him. He wrote in his journal, his thumb leaving a smudge on the page:

"For a long time, I believed I could not live a bad life and expect good things to happen to me. Yet somehow, this woman of pure goodness entered my life, and it is clear now that I have been a fool."

[bastard-loki]

took me by surprise

[myokk]

She hears him calling her name as she flees down the spiral staircase, almost tripping over her feet in her rush to get away from him, but he catches up quickly, reaching out to grab her arm in an attempt to slow her down. She stops running immediately - she supposes her traitorous body wants to see what he has to say, or maybe it just wants to bask in his intoxicating proximity. He crowds her space, and she sees that unfamiliar look in his eyes again. So very different from the cold disdain she had seen the last time she had been this close to him, during the argument that had ended their friendship.

Oh, Merlin, he's getting closer to her, and she can now clearly see the freckles dusting his cheeks and nose and forehead and then before she knows it, his hand is sliding up her arm, leaving goosebumps everywhere he touches and then he's caressing her jaw with his rough thumb and he pauses. Her eyelids flutter closed as her head tilts towards him - she couldn't stop herself even if she wanted to (what does she want?). She can feel his warm breath ghosting over her lips and she has the improbable, ridiculous thought - how is he remembering to breathe? - before he speaks. His lips brush against hers with every soft word and a deep shiver runs through her body.

"I," she hears him say, his voice so, so low, "haven't been able to think since last week."

That's all she needs to hear, the brush of his bottom lip against hers all she needs to feel, to push her into closing what minuscule distance there is between them and then his lips are on hers and it's better than anything she's been imagining. His mouth is soft against hers, insistent, and her hands go up to grip the collar of his plaid jacket to make sure he doesn't go away or disappear on her.

from my oneshot💘

[casualavocados]

It fits the character, okay?

AI DI + the Little Red Riding Hood saga KISEKI: DEAR TO ME (2023)

[jrreigns]

Full House

Day 29: Circus | Drabble Challenge 2024

CW: Levi x fem!reader, civilian!reader

A/N: Takes place in the same universe as Letters from the Other Side. Part of Drabble Challenge 2024.

It’s been six years since the Rumbling.

The Ackerman home feels full. A babbling child can be heard and the smell of something delicious wafts through the house.

“It’s like a damn circus in here,” Levi mutters, eyeing the toys scattered all over. His gaze shifts to the source of the babbling, but his expression softens as your daughter bursts into fits of giggles.

“Yeah, I look funny to you?” He picks her up, her hand meeting his scarred cheek with fascination.

You smile, hand resting on your pregnant stomach. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

Despite his grumbling stomach, Levi feels full.

[kentocalls]

gojo satoru | number one sfw. fluff. written for the wonderful @courtneedsleep happy birthday wonderful soul 🍰

It’s never a good idea indulging Satoru outside of the normal routine of class, cafeteria, cookies and sleep. Rinse and repeat, easy, simple, wonderful. 

But today, today you are so disoriented when there’s a knock on your door and who other than the white haired blue eyed almost dragon plops down on your bed. Did your roommate let him in again?

The sun is barely bleeding through your drawn curtains. “Yoooo, awake yet?”

“It’s too early Satoru.” You grumble and hide under your pillow, maybe you’re imagining him and he’s not really here. But his laugh fills your room, that loud heheheheh, “Too early for what? Come on, we’ve got places to be.”

The way he lays his entire body on you, the way he’s making himself impossible to ignore.

“We?” Satoru maybe, you? You’re going to sleep. The round of exams is finally over, you deserve to not make an intelligent thought for at least 36 hours.

“Sleepyhead, let’s go.” He’s poking at your neck, trying to pull the pillow from your grip, and there’s one thing you’ve learned, giving into Satoru is easier than holding out.  “Fine, ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes but not to snooze, chop chop, get ready.”

What’s got him so bossy? Sitting on your bed like that, acting like he’s at home, critiquing your choice of outfit but not telling you where exactly you’re going to be going. “It’s not even 7am Satoru, give me a hint.”

“Nope. Oh, wear that, I like that color.” Of course he adores the baby blue hoodie in your hand. But he’s rushing you and you don��t understand why, offers a “Well, someone has to be responsible.”

You have to laugh, it’s the only way to get through this morning.

  🕶️

You step outside to find a giant SUV, you wonder how Satoru convinced Suguru to let him borrow his beloved vehicle. But hey, this means you can nap, “Our chariot awaits!”

“Y…you’re driving Satoru?”

He makes an exaggerated stab to his heart, “You wound me, you know that. I have not gotten us hurt in a vehicle for like months.”

“Right but you’re dangerous on a bicycle Satoru this is a mental death trap.”

He ignores you, opening the car like he were some butler, with a strict posture and a slight bow, “After you milady, sit back and relax.”  He slides into the driver seat with a huge smile and confidence of a fifty year old, accident free, pays his insurance on time driver. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.” The look he gives you as he pits his right arm around the passenger seat and leans to look back and reverse the SUV with one hand.  You’re not blushing it’s just the rising sun heating up your cheeks. You try not to tense. He should not look this handsome reserving an SUV.

“No faith in me? I promise, I can drive this just fine.”

“Keep your eyes on the road Satoru.”

  🕶️

He’s in a good mood for someone who shares your disdain of early mornings.  It has you smiling and of course, even though his eyes are on the road, he notices. “Super duper excited about my awesome, spectacular. amazing surprise right?”

“It’s nice to see you smiling too Satoru.”

He hums, “Well it’s a special day, so I’m excited.”

A special day? The end of exams? “I planned this for a while you know, it’s going to be epic, it’s going to ruin all other days for you. Sorry not sorry.”

Do people really celebrate the end of exams? “Planned for a while?”

“You’ll see.”

“Can we get coffee?”

“Nope.”

“A bagel?”

“Nope, you’re fine.”

  You last a whole ten minutes.

“Satoru, where are we going?”

“Wow, patience, patience..”

“Patience? And that too from Gojo Satoru’s lips? Wow. Did I pass out during my exams? Is this heaven?”

“It’s nice to know I would be in your version of Heaven, I’d be the best looking angel there.” You roll your eyes, decide to refrain from opening your mouth, least your best friends ego fill up the car and leave no room for anything else.

  🕶️

In all the lushness California has to offer you, you’ve never been a forest girlie. You don’t do bugs.  And this is exactly where Satoru brought you, to a forest? Bug central? “Umm…”

His eyes are shining bright, “Trust me, come on.”

He holds out his hand, drags you through winding trails and questionable dirt pathways.  It is really really green in the forest, the air feels cooler, your eyes seem to relax in this space. There’s many places to look but then you hear water.

Is it possible? A waterfall in a forest?

Satoru looks at you with a huge grin, pulls out his phone, starts to walk backwards, “I wanna remember this.”

“You’re going to fall.”

“I’m willing to fall for you again, hey, eyes on me please.”

The pathway leads you to the most beautiful sight, a soft waterfall with shimmering water falling into a tranquil lake? Oasis? Some other term for calm body of water that escapes you because it’s still too early in the morning.  Birds are singing, the air is crisp, there’s even a ray or two of the sunlight filtering through patches from the trees.  It feels unreal.

“Satoru this is—“ he’s gone.

Oh my god, did he fall into the lake?

“Satoru?”

The silence and serenity that was peaceful before now feels too big and too scary. “Satoru!”

“Hey!”  His stupid cute face and hand wave at you from behind a tree, you walk over ready to tell him it’s rude to leave you in a peaceful forest oasis when you spot….

“Is that my blanket?”

“Shh! Take in all of the sights please.”

It’s your blanket alright, the one you take when Satoru drags you to outdoor sports games. It’s surrounded by candles, some are hanging like in Harry Potter and you leave it to Satoru (the Architect) major ot figure out how to create such a magical ambience. There’s a picnic basket and two small stools, a bunch of wrapped gifts, those little black dustballs from the Ghibili movie you like and a birthday cake.

A birthday cake.

It’s your birthday. Oh shit, your birthday is today.

“Is…is this for us?”

“It’s for you, gosh are you still sleepy?” He tucks you under his arm and drags you over to the cozy nook he’s set up. “It’s perfect right?”

It is perfect. Private. Romantic.

“This is so sweet Satoru.”

“I told you today was a special day.”  Has you sit down and puts on a party hat on himself and you.

“Happy birthday!”

“This is really, so sweet, Satoru—“

“It took me so long to set up, you’re happy like? You like it?”

“Satoru, it’s magical, I feel like a video game character.”

He chuckles, “Good. We’re also going to that beach board walk you wanna go to.”   But isn’t that a two hour drive away?

“That’s so far, we don’t have to.”

“I want to, if you smile like this, I absolutely have to.”  He…he can’t say stuff like that. This is Gojo Satoru, your best friend. The only person you’d share your fries with, the only person who always saves a seat for you, the only person you’d follow deep into the forest. He ca’t…

“Mmm, so worth it.” Why is he eating ice cream? Where did the ice cream come from. He follows your curious eyes and pulls a tub of your favorite flavor from the picnic basket. “Yesss, I love ice cream for breakfast.”

“Yeah, and seeing you smile like that, worth it.”

“Why thank you, dentists better hire me asap.”

“They should, best smile in the world, right here.”

Stop, it makes you blush so hard. “You’re in such a good mood on my birthday?”

“Can’t I be? You were born today, you breathed your first breath today, my best friend, my favorite person, alive today. It’s magical.”

“Your favorite person?”

“My absolute favorite.” He looks so serious, even with that goofy smile.

“I’d say you’re maybe…. one of my top five.”

“Hey!”

“Fine, for today, I’ll allow you to be my most favorite.”

“Oh you’ll allow it for one day? Then I’ll do everything to keep it this way.” How his hand finds yours and squeezes it, how you let him do that, who cares, it feels nice, his hand is warm. “Are candles in the forest okay?”

“They’re fake, I adore you but I won’t start a forest fire in your name. You’d lose your dentist modeling contract.”

“So considerate.”

“Aren’t I? Gosh, I’m such a catch.”

  🕶️

“You really really don’t have to take me to the beach boardwalk, this is good enough.”

“Nah, I’m gonna spoil you today and you can’t stop me.”

It’s really the nicest thing someone has done for you, you two talk over exams and classes and eventually bicker about what the best ice cream flavor is. If it ends in you squishing Satoru’s cheeks until he gives in and declares vanilla the most basic flavor ever then so be it!   Once back at the car you realize how high the sun has gotten, how quickly time passes when you’re with him.

“Hey come on, your day just started.” He reaches out to grab the picnic basket you stubbornly want to carry, he’s already holding the blanket and all the candles. “Let me, please. I’m going to be really nice to you today, okay? I gotta save my number one favorite person spot after all.”

“Hmm…Gojo Satoru not being annoying to me?” You make a dramatic gasp, “Are you an alien?” Your hands find his face as he leans into your touch, “Satoru? Satoru are you still in there?!”

He doesn’t roll his eyes as you expect, only shakes his slightly and looks at you like you’ve placed the first freshly baked chocolate croissant onto his plate. He looks at you not like a best friend should, or would. “Satoru?”

It’s a moment, you think there’s a moment where both of your breaths stop, eyes fall to each other’s lips and no one. Does. Anything.

  🕶️

 At the beach boardwalk you wish you’d gotten a leash for Satoru. Stupid long limbed handsome pole walk so fast, you latch onto his hand and don’t let go for the rest of the day. It’s fun.  Satoru loves anything fast and you like how he screams when he gets scared. Such a fun day, if the stupid sun wasn’t blaring in your eyes, but Satoru has a solution for that too. He places his glasses on you, “I gotta be your number one favorite person after all.”

There’s a lot of junk food to be had. “I bet you can’t eat this pickle ice cream sandwich.”

“Bet I can.”

“Bet you can’t.”

“I bet I can and you’re going to have to do anything I say for a whole day Satoru.” He scoffs, he does what you say most of the time anyways. Only you haven’t noticed, or pretend not to. Satoru can’t tell anymore, doesn’t care, only interested in making your smile last the whole day.

The pickled ice cream sandwich is….an acquired taste. By the time you make it back from the line it’s melted and the bite you take is huge, if you can down it in three bites you win the bet but you pause after the first one. Satoru has such a sappy look on his face. You, green ice cream on the tip of your nose and corner of your lips.

His thumb reaches out before he can stop himself; he knows you have napkins in your hand but wipes at your bottom lip. “Mmm, it’s interesting.” As he licks at his thumb.  You can almost imagine the slow motion and k-drama music playing in the background but chalk it up to, Satoru being….Satoru.

He wins at every game on the boardwalk, you have more than enough giant stuffed animals to carry and buckle up in the SUV. There are going to be fireworks at sunset,  Satoru and you decide to watch from the parking lot.

You’re holding hands in that way couples do, interlaced and playful. Anyone walking by would consider you a couple, are you? Maybe? Or is he just being nice because it’s your birthday.  But really, be honest with yourself.

Would Gojo Satoru wake up early for anyone else?

Would he create a magical forest breakfast for anyone else?

Would he drive two hours in California traffic for anyone else?

Are you really “just” a friend?

  “Uh oh, hey, I wasn’t annoying at all today, why the frown?”  Because you’re catching feels. He’s pulling at your hands and you let your body fall closer to his and this is simply a hug between friends. Nothing more.  There’s no reason for your heart to beat as quickly as it does when he lays his head on top of yours. “Talk to me, was it the deep fried Oreo?”

“No.”

“Deep fried Poptart?”

“Deep fried ramen.”  You shake your head, let your arms wrap around his waist and smell his stupid Wild Spice body spray. You hate how you know exactly which scent he buys.

“Nope.” You give him a squeeze.

“Deep fried Nutella?” He pulls you closer.

“Deep fried Twinkiees?”

“We should probably, really, eat a salad.” He only hums and you can feel the vibration in his chest.

“What if, and big if, what if I like you.”

He makes half a laugh, “Well, you should, I really like you too.”

🕶️

And ooh, do you do it? Do you pull back and look at him and tell him what exactly you mean by liking him. Because you like-like him, like wanna hold his hand all the time like him, like wanna always wear his hoodie and squish his face when he’s annoying like-like. Perhaps even kiss him silly when he has that beautiful smile on his face.

When you do poke your head up, when he does make space and looks down at you, a slight tilt to his head, eyes soft, curious, concerned. “Hi.” You squeak out.

“Well, hello.” He says back, softly. Eyes falling to your lips and back to your eyes. You could count his eyelashes up this close, but his lips look awfully pretty, awfully plush, awfully awfully soft.

“These are mine.” His hands toy with his sunglasses perched on the top of your head. He pulls them down over your eyes and back up, he does this a few times. He wants to see your eyes but you look so cute with his sunglasses on. Anything to distract himself from doing something stupid (like kissing you.)

“Nu uh, they’re mine now.”

He cocks an eyebrow, “Are they? I gave you so many other gifts.”

“I want them.”

“They’re one of a kind, no can do, they’re extra special, limited edition.” He’s teasing, half serious, his “stern” scowl twitching at the corners into a smile.

“I’m special, limited edition, one of a kind too. I think I need these for my dentist modeling career Satoru. Don’t you want me to be famous.”

“Hmmm….I rather keep you here, to myself.”

“I thought I was your favorite person, why don’t you want me to—“ He’s leaning in closer, so so so close. “to…”

“To what? Leave me? Why would I ever want that?”

“Why….why would I leave you?”  Oh no, abort abort abort, you asked out loud. Abort, get away from his arms, get away from his face. It makes you stupid, but you can’t pull out of his hug. He grins, “Ohhh you like me."

“Shut up, I don’t.”

“Mmmm Hmmm, making me work extra hard to be your number one, but I’m already there.”  Shush him, use your hands, shush him!

But Gojo Satoru licks the palm of your hand. Cackles at your shriek. “Oh you like me soooo much, how did I never notice?”  He’s babbling, rambling, that ego is going to fill the entire parking lot.

You pull your hands away, naturally finding his cheeks, naturally the best way to shut him up would be with your own lips right?

Right?

[ziracona]

I can’t include them all so here’s a combo of ‘came to mind first,’ ‘talked about positively most often by fans,’ and ‘stuck in my head’.

Public Apology Big Iron isn’t here. There were a lot that didn’t make the cut but that one specifically I stg I put in and only realized after posting had not. It was 100% meant to be on this list and I’ve failed us.

[nnicknnelsonn]

Kit Connor’s Awards for Heartstopper

The very first Best Actor for a Lead Performance award at the very first Children’s & Family Emmy Awards ever. Making history, our Kit. No one will ever forget his name. 2022

The Royal Society Program Awards’ for Leading Actor: Male (competing against much older and more established adult actors). 2023

GQ Man of the Year with Joe Locke. 2022

Kit also won both the Best TV Performance: Male (Best Actor) and as part of the cast for the Best TV Comedy Award at the Queerty Awards this year! 2024. He wasn’t able to attend so Bash & Will collected it for him. (X)

Kit Connor attending the British Fashion Awards

[featherwhiskered]

me and the bad bitch i pulled by being full of fear

[crazy-ache]

elucien (complete)

“Pardon me, lady,” Lucien cleared his throat. “While I will gladly host you here, you’ll have to understand that I’m a bit confused and concerned by your presence.” 

“You see…when I was sick, I had these dreams.”

“What kind of dreams?”

Oh god, this was most definitely her present reality. That familiar painfully, dreadfully awkward reality. The words were stuck in her mouth and she worried she may very well choke on the truth. A blush warmed her cheeks as she opened her mouth again—especially as she recognized the soft flutter of the bond in her chest, beckoning her to speak with courage

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Summary: When Elain falls sick, the feverish dreams entangle with her visions. Wickedly erotic dreams involving her mate, Lucien Vanserra, that feel almost too real...

Notes: Part 4/4. Now complete!!! Explicit, PWP. ~5k ending.

[httpiastri]

they are everything actually

[fanatic-freakshow]

Please excuse me while I go commit murder.

[susieandhobbes]

Racism is wild because what do you mean Richonne has 1500 fics on AO3 and like 50% of them are only as side characters to the most demented and godless ships you've ever has the misfortune of seeing tagged???

A CANON post-apocalyptic, relunctant allies to lovers, found family, I would kill and die for you ship and 1000 fics is IT?!?!

[laurrelise]

once again rambling about five and lila because i’m fucking pissed. enjoy

“five and lila were perfect for each other because they had so much in common” yet so many perfect couples have absolutely nothing in common???

they could relate to each other in ways that made them hate each other and that’s why they were SUCH good foil characters, i don’t understand why the romance had to be necessary.

there is absolutely no reason that this romance plotline should’ve been created. it was so ridiculously off-focus from what the plot was (AND should have been) and it literally only made the season so much worse.

do writers understand that not every single character has to fall in love with one another? i mean genuinely?

personally i don’t believe five is aro (though he could be ace) because i can’t help but love five’s love for delores (even if she wasn’t real) but i completely understand five aroace truthers because he truly can be independent romantically as we saw in the show.

i cannot wrap my fucking head around the fact that the writers saw two awesome, dynamic, badass characters with arcs and goals outside of love and attention and decided to turn their personalities inside out and upside down for a dumbass dead-end romance that makes zero sense.

five and lila were the only two people on god’s green earth who could understand each other and hated the other for it. why couldn’t they just be frenemies and call it a day?

god fucking damn it i’m so upset

shoutout to 13 year old 58 year old five hating lila and 29 year old lila despising the fuck out of little five !!! <3

fuck you to the worst, most nonsensical couple of all time and space ❌❌

[lostinwildflowers]

YO (idk if I can do two together like this but) number 17 from the gestures prompt matches SO WELL with the first line from the dialogue list ("Hold on, let me fix this for you." ) LIKE OMG. IMAGINE THAT WITH HAWKS. IM DEAD ALREADY.

Smudged

Keigo "Hawks" Takami x Reader

Summary: A dressed up night is unusual for you and Hawks, yet all you want to do is go home and relax together.

Word Count: 1.3K

Warnings: Suggestive themes but nothing NSFW, Hawks being a flirty shit, fluff<3

A/N: Just for my special Nem Nem! I've actually been on an MHA kick so this works in my favor. Enjoy some ~shmexy~ Hawks! -Birch<3

Prompts used:

1. "Hold on, let me fix this for you."

17. Standing still as your lover rubs smudged lipstick/lipstick stains off of your skin, catching them off guard by pressing a kiss against their fingertip.

Waiters and waitresses rushed by your table, platters of fine wines and cheese charcuterie boards bustling past. For one of the fanciest and highest-rated restaurants in Japan, you somehow felt uncomfortable.

Your husband, Keigo, sat across from you at your premier seating arrangement. Your view was gorgeous, you couldn't deny it.

It was a red brick rooftop overlooking the city below, with the sun setting across the skyscrapers, painting them in soft shades of lavender and baby blue just as the sun was sinking.

The city below you was alive, it was Friday night after all. Horns honked on the roadways below, everyone rushing around to meet up with friends or get home to watch the newest episode of their favorite show.

The best view was the one sitting across from you- Keigo. Leaning back in his chair, he seemed completely unbothered by the looks the two of you were getting.

It wasn't hard to see why he was the best sight around. His blonde curls were soft and smoothed out of his face, just a stray curl falling out of place to lay on his forehead.

His hair was longer than usual, but you didn't seem to mind. You preferred to run your fingers through the feathery pieces when they were longer, as it gave you a way to draw him close to you.

Keigo's skin was clear and ever so slightly dewy from the heat of the night, the bastard. Paired with his golden gaze and dark, thick lashes, he was glowing.

The part that seemed to have you bewitched was the white button-down covering his torso. It was a plain, white dress shirt, yes, but Keigo made it look like it should have been on a runway.

The sleeves were rolled up neatly to his elbows, showing off his strong and thick forearms. To fancy up his outfit, he even wore his newest watch, the silver glinting with the rays of the sun.

As if that wasn't enough, a few bands of silver covered his fingers, the rings enhancing the length and thickness of the digits, which you had to keep steering your mind away from.

Keigo seemed to be on a roll trying to distract you because in addition to his arms and hands looking inviting, the top two buttons were undone around his collar. His defined clavicle poked through, the necklace with your initial hanging around his neck making your heart flutter every time you looked at it.

To top it all off, well-fitting black slacks and dress shoes pulled the whole look together. And he had the audacity to sit across from you and not even realize he was a heaven-sent angel.

"Hey love," his voice rips you out of your trance, "I'm thinking I either want the grilled chicken salad or the pork shogayaki. What do you think?"

His eyes flash up to meet yours innocently, his golden gaze genuine as he gauged your reaction. He gets distracted looking at you though.

There you are, looking shy and uncomfortable, yet breathtakingly beautiful. Your hair was pinned up on your head, leaving your neck accessible to the air to stay cool.

Small bits and pieces of jewelry donned your ears, wrists, and neck, but nothing too flashy. Even though Keigo promised to take you to the fanciest place in Japan, you didn't feel like standing out.

A black dress was your first choice, the cut tight around your waist but flowed out around your hips, the fabric perfect for getting twirled around the dance floor.

Keigo's favorite part about your look? The deep burgundy lipstick that glimmered almost too much on your lips. They just looked so kissable, so bite-able, that he was completely distracted from ordering.

You look back at your husband, giving him an uncertain smile before mumbling, "Oh, that all sounds lovely, but..." You trail off as another set of waiters hustle by, and you scooch toward Keigo to avoid them.

His hand immediately comes up to rest on the back of your chair, his gaze following the wait staff to ensure none of them touched you by accident.

When the coast is clear and he turns back to you, your face still holds a hint of nervousness. He smiles at you softly and asks, "Spit it out, love."

You close your eyes and huff before picking up his golden gaze and murmuring, "I kind of just want to go home."

Before he can say anything, you wave your hands in front of you and protest, "And it's not because dinner isn't going to be good or I don't enjoy the view, or that I don't appreciate you bringing me to this really fancy-" "Y/n/n," he cuts you off.

He gives you a wide and cheeky grin as he replies, "Doll, I was waiting to see how long it took you to break." Your mouth falls open in shock as you playfully swat at him, but he chuckles and catches your failed attempt.

Instead, he clasps your wrist and hauls you to your feet, walking you around the tables to the edge of the restaurant. His wings poof out behind him, and he releases your hand to step up onto the edge of the roof.

Then, Keigo turns around to face you, well aware of the gazes of everyone around you glued to his spectacle. He grins wickedly before offering you his hand and stating, "My lady?"

You roll your eyes as you take his hand, and just like that, you are whisked off into the sunset. You can't help the laugh that falls from your lips as he wraps his arms around you, the wind tugging at your clothes and hair.

Keigo tries flying as smoothly as he can to get you home comfortably, but he also enjoys the time he can have you wrapped up in his arms without a care in the world.

The second you land on your specialized balcony after your short flight, he sets you down gently, wrapping his arms around your waist. Keigo gazes down at you softly and whispers, "I don't care if we go out to the fanciest place to eat or stay in and order KFC. I just want to see you smile and be happy."

Your hands come up to play with the hair at the base of his neck as you whisper back, "I am happy." He smiles at you gently, leaning in to kiss you before he freezes.

His sharp gaze manages to see a smudge of lipstick at the edge of your bottom lip. Must have bumped something on the flight home.

You pout as he pulls away from you, and it takes everything in him to not lean down and smash his lips against yours at the plushness of your lips. Keigo just chuckles and says, "Hold on baby, let me fix this for you."

Your body stills as one of his hands comes up to cup your cheek gently, his thumb swiping against your bottom lip to clear off the small red stain. Just before he can completely pull his hand away, you ever so slightly lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his finger, painting it red.

You can feel his body pause against yours, and you giggle at the red suddenly dusting Keigo's cheeks. "Good to know I still have that effect on you after all these years," you joke, tightening your grip on his hair.

"Oh love, you have that effect on me every day. And in this dress?" He whistles at the end of his sentence, his gaze flickering up and down to take in your appearance. Keigo's words are flirty, yes, but his eyes are full of love as he leans into you, gently nuzzling your nose against his own.

"Keigo Takami, are you just trying to get in my pants?"

"Y/n Takami, are you always this enchanting?"

"C'mon bird brain, show me how you'd like to clean up this lipstick."

"I can think of a few different positions~"