#so much fluff in this one

[yallthemwitches]

Too Much Birthday

A sequel of sorts to my @jilytoberfest fic for Day 11 (Small Touches) Written for Day 14, prompt:Surprise Party!

Might be a contender for the fluffiest thing I've ever written if I'm being honest...

AO3 Link Here

“Wow, my mates truly have no shame do they?”

Lily creaks open the door to the boy’s dorm. Records and jumpers litter the floor all the way to where James is leaned up in his bed, a copy of Transfiguration Travails open on his knee.

“Nope—absolutely none for the whole lot of them, but don’t act like you are so shocked.”

James puts the magazine down and sits up. Lily tries not to let her eyes settle on where his shirt is unbuttoned three places more than it should, but the backdrop of his bed is making it even more difficult to ignore. She wonders if he hadn’t just broken up with Maelle a week ago would he be somewhere else, somewhere more festive, rather than holing up in his room.

“Ok Evans. Go on, tell me the pitch.” He smirks and crosses his arms behind his head. 

“You aren’t allowed to go downstairs until Sirius comes to get you.” 

She says it in her most stern, prefect voice, specifically leaving out some key words in the paraphrasing. What Sirius actually said was to distract him, but seeing as they were alone with his bed easily accessible, the word sounded too charged to repeat. 

“Mhm, just what I thought.” An amused smile tugs at his face. “And what is stopping me from just muscling my way past you and down the stairs?”

“I guess my bizarre loyalty to following directions.”

James’ eyes narrow and suddenly Lily wishes she hadn’t agreed to be his keeper for the unforeseeable future. After his break-up, things had been weird between them. He had stopped coming to study in the library, no longer even passing her notes when they were both bored in History of Magic. In all honesty, Sirius coming to her for this favor was the only indication that she wasn’t out of his life entirely. 

Perhaps that’s why she agreed to do it, despite knowing how dangerous it is to be left alone with Potter in his room. Because, well, she misses him. 

James stands up from the bed and takes a small step forward, eyes narrowed like a cat on the hunt. Lily plays along. She’s been around him long enough to know what his brand of mischief looks like. She takes a wider stance, arms up and poised to fight.

She waits for him to start running at her, maybe make a zig zag approach and slip past. Instead, he walks slowly— deliberate with his steps and a coy smile curling his lips.

Stopping right in front of her, he pushes his hands in his pockets, wildly amused. It's close enough to where she can feel his body heat emanate into her space. 

“I’d like to get by now.”

“No chance, Potter.”

Quicker than she can comprehend, she is lifted off the ground. They have never touched like this before but inexplicably she is now in his embrace, being pushed against his chest to hover just a few centimeters away from the floor— a far cry from the knee touches and playful smacks they give each other in the library. She lets out a squeal of surprise, then a pealing Oh! as the reality of his arms, his chest, his gleefully stupid expression all click into place. 

He drops her suddenly, eyes wide with remorse. Both hands run through his hair. 

“Oh Merlin, I’m so sorry, that was out of line.” He scrubs a hand down his face, attempting to figure out what compelled him to cross the invisible line that separated friendship from something else entirely.

“Hey, it’s fine. I was playing along.” 

An understatement; it was more than fine, brilliant even to finally feel what the embrace of James Potter felt like. 

He looks around the room, clearly no longer feeling comfortable with the situation. She wants to say there are no hard feelings— but what she really wants is for him to do it again. 

“Look, you can tell Sirius that I’ll keep myself up here and you can–”

“No really, it's fine. We were just having a laugh–calling each other’s bluff.” He looks at her with uncertainty but she ignores it.

“Ok, new idea. Why don’t you give me a grand tour of your room?”

James blinks. Any wariness about their previous incident erases from his face as he raises his eyebrows and gestures broadly to the room, spinning around once in place for effect.

“Well—here it is.”

Lily snorts. “That’s not what I mean asshole—I meant your side of the room. Knowing you, you have all kinds of weird bits and bobs hiding around.”

She doesn’t wait for an invitation, walking past him and towards the bed she found him sitting on when she entered. James follows quick at her heels, juggling between bewildered and excited. 

“Alright Potter, let's see it.”

She looks around his space. In many ways, it's a visual microcosm of him: a little messy, but with a clear method to the madness. He gestures to the bed, amusement fully restored on his face.

“Well, that’s my bed—I use it for sleeping.” 

“Alright, good start.” She can feel a smile cracking on her face. 

“And that’s my broom–I use it for quidditch.”

“Groundbreaking.”

“And those are my books—I use them for reading.”

She can’t help but laugh at the stupidity of it all–not even just the tour but everything about the evening so far. 

“Wow Potter. Have you ever thought of going into the hospitality business? You make an incredible tour guide.”

She flops herself down on the side of the bed nearest to a stack of books on the nightstand and grabs for the one separated from the rest. He stands there for a moment, eyes lingering on her with red blooming beneath the wire rim of his glasses before sitting next to her, knee jostling hers as the bed moves from his weight. 

Lily turns the book in her hand. “The Animal Instinct: My life as the first Animagus.”

He clears his throat. “I like biographies—especially ones written by old bats that make me fall asleep.”

Lily opens the book to where it is marked and recognizes her handwriting on the piece of parchment holding his place. James makes a noise of discomfort, but Lily pulls the note out of his reach.

It is months old, but she recognizes it immediately. It was one of the notes she passed to him during Professor Binns’ lecture on the Thelema Inquisition Act of 1935. Handwriting untidy and smudged, the note reads: 

Remind me to tell you about the stupid thing I did in Potions this morning.

It meant nothing really. She couldn’t even remember what stupid thing she had been referring to. Yet, the note was there nonetheless, passing through his hand each time he read before bed. 

“I just needed something to mark my page and it was the first thing I found,” he equivocates, running a hand through his hair. 

She doesn’t respond, continuing to reread the note. It is a testament to better days—days where James and her were unquestionably mates.

“Hey, can I talk to you about something?”

 Maybe it’s because of the note or maybe because she has just invaded his personal space, but she wants to be honest for once.

“After you and Maelle broke up, you started to act really weird with me–like we weren’t friends anymore.” He doesn’t say anything, looking down at his hands that rest in his lap.

“--I understand that you are probably going through a lot, but—I miss you. I just hope you know that if you want to talk, I’m here for you.”

She is staring ahead, but a calloused hand turns her face towards him and his lips meet hers. Suddenly, she can’t think anymore, can’t even remember why she is sitting in that room with him, but she can feel his mouth: warm and soft and gone as fast as it came. 

“In all honesty Evans, I have just wanted to do that.”

His hand is still on her cheek and she pulls him back, already feeling addicted to the smell of his skin and how his lips know the perfect pressure to press into hers. 

Their kisses are full of smiles and laughter as much as sighs and groans of contentment. Even after what seems like eternity, neither pulls away, both able to feel that anything beyond their space together is a speck of dust in comparison.

“Sirius will probably call for us soon–” She says it just as a matter of fact, but her mind is very far from whatever his mates have prepared for him for the rest of the evening. 

“Don’t care. Don’t need a party,” he says through his kisses, each one as tender and loving as the last.

“You sure? I heard Sirius got you a real lion—”

“I’m not one for extravagance—I’m very modest as you know.” 

She laughs and he catches it with his mouth. Joy bursting from both of them. 

“Going down there would be too much birthday, I reckon. Might as well play it safe and stay up here.”

She lets him keep kissing her, only stopping so they tangle closer together. She knows eventually Sirius will come bounding up the stairs, searching for the man of the hour, but until then, she will keep on holding him close, happiness more infectious with each passing second. 

After all, it is his birthday.

[forgetfulmachineart]

[ID: A colored, simple, three panel comic of teen Gojo Satoru and Megumi Fushiguro. Panel one: Megumi sits on a stool, feet hanging barely half way down, as Gojo kneels in front of them bandaging their arm and holding their hand. Megumi has Gojo's sunglasses and is labeled "gojo put the sunglasses on them to keep Megumi's hair out of wounds." Gojo says "You got pretty close this time, Gumi! Want my help taming Nue next time?" Second panel: Megumi from the waist up, looking at her bandaged arm and saying "No. I'm alright Dad." A small cartoon Megumi realizes what they said and goes "wait..." Third panel: Gojo has a closed eyes smile and says "Okay, Gumi" but is labeled "Trying very very very very hard to play it cool." Multiple loud and ugly crying cartoon Gojo's reflect his real feelings in the background. /End ID]

They proceed to never talk about it again

[svtswhorehouse]

HIS BEST GIRL

pairings: bad boy!mingyu x good girl!reader genre: mdni, smut warnings: smoking, blowjob gone wrong ????, mentions of mingyu having a monster cock (IT’S A JOKE), oral (m), mingyu trying to orally cock train reader, reader overestimating her abilities, inexperienced reader, mentions of gagging, a few coughing fits, the reader cries, experienced mingyu, MINOR subspace, reader just wants to be called a good girl, she's kinda a brat ngl, some fluff idk how to describe it, mentions of mingyu being a mean dom, he doesn’t cum y’all sorry word count: 3.8k side note: reader is close childhood friends with ALL of seventeen and i will be writing other members with this particular oc as well. so much lore pls feel free to ask questions !! planning on making this a series, so enjoy :)

𐙚 previous + next 𐙚

Big, big, big.

You let out a whimper, doe eyes rolling up to look at the man peering down at you. Your lips were wrapped firmly around his cock, struggling as he inched himself further and further into your mouth. 

So big.

He was so damn big.

From arms to chest, it came as no surprise that Kim Mingyu was a man that worked hard for his body. He tended to coup himself up at the gym, spending hours upon hours lifting weights to gain the muscle he had acquired over the years. As expected, his cock was larger than most, if not, the biggest you have ever seen and the biggest you could have ever possibly imagined. Despite hearing the constant gossip amongst the girls on campus, you have finally gotten a chance to see for yourself and needless to say the monster cock rumors were true.

You have not a clue how you managed to find yourself in this position. In fact, you actually had no clue how you’ve been managing to find yourself in a lot of positions lately. After your escapade with Jeonghan a few days before, it left you excited, eager, and ready for more. You had always been one for learning new things and that intimate experience with him had opened up a whole new world for you – one in which you have never ventured in before. 

You squeezed your eyes shut as you did your best to take what Mingyu was giving you. He was only less than half way in and there was still so much more to go. It was impossible. You were sure of it. 

It would never fit. 

Mingyu however, despite your idling thoughts, loved a good challenge. He knew you could take it. Maybe not today and maybe not tomorrow, but he was sure that with just a little bit more practice, he could train you to take his cock with ease. 

“Relax.” He said monotonously. His eyes were focused on where his length disappeared into your mouth, a groan forcing to escape from his lips. “You’re fine.” He reassured you as he stilled his hips while you gathered yourself. “Just breathe.”

Listening to him, you took slow breaths through your nose while you adjusted to the foreign feeling of something in your mouth. If it wasn’t his length that killed you, it would most definitely be his girth. It had only been a few minutes and your jaw was beginning to ache already. 

It was painfully obvious that you have never done this before and it was embarrassing to say the least. You were sure that other girls in which he has been with managed to take him easily without any complaint, so much more different from you and your lack of experience. For some reason you had the sudden need to show him that you could be just like those girls, maybe even better.

Making a decision that you were in fact not ready for, you rested a hand on Mingyu’s thigh and attempted to slide your mouth further down his cock. However, you definitely seemed to overestimate your abilities as you slightly gagged when it went a little too far and caused you to let out a muffled cough. 

Furrowing his eyebrows, Mingyu made a sound of disapproval as he watched you. He fisted at your ponytail, using your hair as leverage to gently pull you up and off of him. 

A whine escaped from your lips as soon as his tip slipped out. In such little time you had found yourself used to the feeling of something occupying your mouth and now that it was gone you didn’t enjoy the loss. You tried to dive back on him, but you were met with resistance instead. Mingyu’s hand snaked it’s way to your face as he lent forward on the couch to be somewhat eye level with you. 

“What did I tell you?” He asked with a stern voice. His fingers gripped at your jaw to keep you in place, making sure you didn’t shy away from the angry look he was sending your way. 

Your eyes were quick to fill with tears, not liking both his tone and the sudden confrontation. You were never the type of person who was fond of getting reprimanded – not when you were younger and not now as well. You tried to avert your attention to elsewhere, but Mingyu tsked in dissatisfaction. 

“Nuh-uh. Look at me.”

You typically tended to listen very well in any circumstance so needless to say it came as a surprise that you were acting a little out of the ordinary today. Your behavior was almost beginning to get somewhat bratty and Mingyu could only hope that it wouldn’t continue.

“What did I say?” He asked again. “Before we started this. What did we agree on?”

You bit your lip, suddenly nervous. “To take it slow.” You answered softly, your voice fading out as you spoke the words. 

“Mhm.” He nodded. “So why are we rushing things huh? I told you it’s not going to happen in one day, didn’t I?”

You shrugged, vaguely remembering that it took some time convincing Mingyu to allow you to suck him off. It was your first time doing this, let alone the second time doing something sexual altogether and he knew that. He made it very clear that if this was going to happen, it was going to go his way. However, seems like you had the wrong idea in mind for “his way” because according from what you’ve heard about Mingyu around campus, he never goes easy. It was always endless gossip about fast and hard. Rough and messy. Mean and humiliating.

This was nothing like what you originally imagined it to be like, but quite frankly maybe that was exactly what you needed. Maybe Mingyu knew your limits better than you knew your own. 

“M’ sorry.” You muttered as you looked down to fiddle with the ring on your finger.

Mingyu took a few seconds to respond, examining you instead. You didn’t take much of a liking to the way his eyes felt on your figure, causing you to shift around. He eventually opted to nod in response as he let go of your face.

For a second you thought he was done. That you blew your chances in learning how to give a blowjob and that was it – but instead he grabbed a cigarette from his pack, sparking it up and taking a long drag. Blowing the smoke up into the air, he leant back on the couch with his legs spread wide open. His cock stood tall in all it’s glory, hard and coated from your saliva. “Let’s try this again.” 

You perked up immediately at the statement, sitting on your knees between his legs. The carpet dug into your skin, but you didn’t take any notice to the scratchy feeling, instead giving the man before you your undivided attention. He was indulging you and better yet, corrupting you. 

With a hand resting on the back of your head and burning cigarette in the other, Mingyu led you back to his cock. He let his tip rest at your lips, swearing under his breath as he struggled hard not to slam right into your mouth from the sight of your innocent doe eyes peering up at him. 

Never in all of the years he had known you, did Mingyu think you two would ever be in this position. He was a menace in the bedroom, a hard dom and on certain occasions a brat tamer. He normally went for the girls who he could throw around. The ones who would get on their knees for him with just the snap of his fingers alone and the ones who wouldn’t care if he didn’t hold back in which he never planned to do in the first place. 

But this was different – this was you.

He wanted to move slower because although you didn’t know much about the joys of sex and pleasure, he did, and he also knew that you weren’t the type of person who could be easily thrusted into it. You were far too sheltered, far too nice, and far too pure.

“Gyu….” You whined, teetering on the edge of slight impatience. He was taking too long and you were beginning to get shy under his gaze.

The hint of desperation in your tone quickly snapped Mingyu out of his daydream and he jumped back into action soon after. “Open.” He ordered, to which you obeyed.

Your lips parted, mouth awaiting to be stuffed yet again. You almost looked like a puppy eager for it’s treat and Mingyu struggled to bite his tongue to hold back the degradation wanting to escape. 

If it was anyone else – oh if it was anyone other than you, he would have made them cry. He would’ve made them beg, and he would’ve made them show him how much they wanted it. It was quite shocking what affect you had on him. Only you had the ability to make Kim Mingyu go soft. 

“Good girl.” He praised, noticing that you followed his instructions well. 

You found it rather difficult to contain a moan, your thighs pressing together as the words floated straight to your head. Mingyu raised an eyebrow, trying not to laugh as he took notice of the way you enjoyed being praised, just like he assumed you would.

The boys were always hard to read – all thirteen of them mostly silent and kept to themselves for almost the entirety of your life in which you’ve known them. However, for them, you were an open book. One in which they have read every single page to about a million times. 

“Stick out your tongue.” He instructed. 

Almost immediately, it darted out of your mouth causing dirty thoughts to flood the boy’s mind. You looked as if you belonged on the thumbnail of a porn video and for a second he seriously considered snapping a photo to keep for his eyes only. 

Groaning, he shook his head. “You’re killing me Y/N.” With a now clear mind, Mingyu slapped the tip of his cock against your tongue. Your eyes narrowed in on it, the want and need to have it deep inside your mouth as opposed to him just teasing you. 

But you were good and good girls don’t complain. 

After what seemed like a lifetime, Mingyu finally slid himself into your mouth. He only allowed a good two inches in at first, slowly working his way up to what you managed to take before. The ache in your jaw began to make a comeback and you almost wished you were a hippo, for the first time in your life envying their ability to unhinge their own jaws.

You can take it. You can take it. You can take it.

Mingyu gently inched himself into your mouth little by little until he was eventually over the halfway mark. Yet again you took steady breaths through your nose to help calm yourself down as your eyes began to water. Pushing away the urge to cough you instead clutched the man’s knee, using it as your personal stress ball. The fogginess that was beginning to cloud your mind was progressively getting more difficult to ignore and you struggled to gather yourself as your thoughts drifted and you found it harder to think. 

Mingyu steadied himself and locked his gaze on your face. He knew that look all too well – the one in which the lights were on, but no one’s home. He’s become quite accustomed to it, having seen it multiple times before with close to every rendezvous he’s had. This was the part in which he was supposed to humiliate and degrade. It was almost routine at this point. However, with one glance at the tears forming in your waterline, you just so happened to tug at his heartstrings. 

“You good baby?” He asked, pulling a bit of himself out of your mouth to make it somewhat easier for you. 

Barely registering his words, you paused for a beat to collect yourself before letting out a sound of assurance. Despite this however, Mingyu would seem to differ as the tears that were once threatening to fall surely enough went cascading down your face with just the blink of your eyes. 

“You sure?” He asked again, refusing to move. The time he spent making you wait was driving you crazier by the minute and it didn’t help that he kept your ponytail wrapped around his hand to prevent you from moving. 

You made a sound of approval yet again to give him the green light, this time being much more insistent with a little nod of your head. 

You didn’t want him to stop. You didn’t want to stop. 

With a sigh, Mingyu bit his lip hesitating. Fortunately for you though, with him being distracted by his own thoughts, he made the mistake of loosening his grip on your hair by the slightest. You were quick to jump at the opportunity that suddenly arose, seemingly not having learned your lesson before – the one that invisibly states “it takes time to take a dick this god damn big.”

Instead of slowly pacing yourself further down his cock, in alternative you forced yourself much too quickly to slide in two more inches. Although a miniscule number to what most people might think, especially the already experienced – you could feel the tip of his cock drag against the back of your throat, the feeling hitting you like a hurricane. Your tears made an appearance once again, except now moving much more quickly and frequently down your cheeks as you tried your hardest not to gag. Your breathing picked up to assist with your struggle, swallowing around Mingyu’s cock when you realized you couldn’t inhale or exhale through your mouth. You reached a hand out, squeezing the man’s thigh a lot harder than you had before. The back of your throat felt raw and for a second you thought you might have possibly dislocated your jaw. 

Mingyu was quick to throw his cigarette down on the ashtray, leaning forward as soon as he processed your actions. You felt his hand thread through your hair, using it to get a grip and pull you off his cock. When the tip finally slipped out of your mouth, you instantly broke out into a coughing fit, no longer being able to contain it. Amongst your struggle however, to Mingyu’s surprise, you still seemed to be so persistent as your hand reached out to grip at the base of him despite needing a break. 

The man clenched his jaw, leaning in close to your face. “I’m gonna kill you.” He muttered, keeping a hand on you to provide a sense of space between you and his cock that for some unknown reason you seemed so eager to get back to. 

This was exactly what he didn’t want to happen. He gave you an inch and you took a mile.

“I can –,” You coughed, “I can take it.”

Mingyu scoffed at your words, running his eyes over you to take in your state. You were a little bit short of a mess. Your eyes were glazed over, tears running down your face, and voice hoarse. You definitely could not take it. At least, not right now. 

“Y/N…” He started, trailing off when you rested your chin on his thigh while looking up at him. You were visibly deflating with each second that passed and Mingyu didn’t like that he was the reason for it. He knew you, and he also knew that you were trying your absolute best to be good for him. “Sure you can sweetheart.” He continued, striving to reassure you as he tucked himself back into his sweatpants. “But maybe some other time, okay?” 

You were not very happy with his answer and the whine of defiance that escaped your mouth let him know that. “Please Gyu, please.” You begged. “I’m fine, I promise.” Your pleas fell on deaf ears as he ignored you, already knowing that you were going to try and get him to change his mind, but it was already set and the decision was final. 

Scowling at the lack of his attention, before you could think, your hand came down on his leg rather hard, the smack ringing throughout the room.

“Hey.” Mingyu warned, tilting his head with his eyes set on yours sternly. “Quit it.” He said firmly, speaking through his teeth. 

Your own eyes held his fierce ones, eventually backing down with a huff when you came to the conclusion that you weren’t going to win. Suddenly refusing to look at him, you abruptly got up from your spot between his legs. He watched you carefully, stare following you as you got seated on the couch farthest away from him in annoyance. 

“Y/n…” He spoke your name, attempting to get your attention. You turned your head further to the side, ignoring him and not giving in. “Y/n.” He said much more strongly, however you still refused to to look in his direction. He let his gaze linger on you for a bit longer before chuckling to himself. “Brat.” He muttered under his breath, going to grab another cigarette to let off some steam. 

Silence filled the room, you mostly keeping quiet because you were angry and him because he knew you were just being stubborn. Mingyu could not deal with that right now – at least, not in the way he normally would if it had been any other girl in your position. 

You glanced over at him from time to time, looking away quickly whenever his eyes found yours. Your body was starting to get a little sluggish and for some odd reason your brain was fuzzy, but instead of making him aware of that, you kept it to yourself. The last thing you wanted to seem was weak. Mingyu however, is a lot smarter than that, especially in this category. He clocked the minor subspace you were slipping into as soon as it made an appearance, already knowing that there was a high chance in which you would fall into it knowing the person that you are. 

Most virgins do anyways.

You nibbled on your bottom lip, propping your arm up on a cushion to lean against it. The only thing you craved at the moment was warmth and comfort. You would have went running to Seungcheol and Jeonghan like you typically did, the oldest two always being able to fill that void – however instead you stayed glued to your spot on the couch. 

You wanted Mingyu at the moment and only Mingyu.  

Your eyes seemed to do the speaking for you, not realizing that you were staring at him with a sad and defeated expression. Mingyu scanned you up and down, finding it hard to resist your infamous puppy dog eyes as unintentional as they were. Sighing, he beckoned you over with the nod of his head. “C’mere.” 

You wavered, only jumping into action when he raised an eyebrow at your hesitance. Crawling forward on the couch, you perched yourself right beside him and curled up into his side. His arm wrapped around your body, the size of him compared to you being able to provide you with a sense of comfortability. 

Silence filled the air once again as soon as you were in his arms and the only sound that could be heard was him taking an occasional drag of his cigarette. You had gotten acquainted to the smell over the years, the scent of it no longer bothering you. Watching the smoke linger in the air with each puff he took, a question lingered on the tip of your tongue. 

“Can I try?” You asked, voice hopeful.

It took him by surprise to say the least. Never once have you shown any interest in the bad habits that himself and the boys picked up throughout the years they got older. Hell no, was the answer he was looking for in particular, but deciding you didn’t exactly need that blunt of a reply at the moment, he found something much nicer to deny your request. “Let’s move one step at a time hm?” 

You nodded, understanding that he had already indulged in one thing new that you wanted to try today and now you were asking for too much. “Okay.” 

With the conversation you two were having come to an end, Mingyu was finally able to have a moment of peace. He was a man that loved to party and loved playing music at full blast, however he also enjoyed the moments in which he could just let all the thoughts in his brain drift away. 

It seemed to be different for you however because while his thoughts were relaxing, yours were spurring. You kept on taking small glances at his face, wanting to speak up, but also not bringing yourself to disturb his peace. 

The ring on your finger went round and round in circles as you couldn’t stop fiddling and with each move of your hand it was driving Mingyu out of his comfortable state. Finally, after you had accidentally hit his stomach one too many times, he couldn’t bite his tongue any longer. “Spit it out Y/n.” 

You snapped your head up at him, not have expected him to speak. “Uhm….” You hesitated asking the question. 

Another question. Mingyu hated questions.

 “Was I –,” You stuttered, “Was I good?” Your voice was small and fragile. For a split second Mingyu thought you were going to breakdown into tears due to your own self doubt. He took in your composure, knowing exactly what your question entailed – you wanted to hear one thing in specific, the one thing you’ve been so intent on trying to be throughout this entire situation. 

“Mhm.” He hummed, bringing his hand up to your head to pet at your hair. His fingers laced through your locks, gently scratching at your scalp. “You were such a good girl for me.” 

A rush of giddiness coursed through you, but you were quick to push it down as your worrisome thoughts still stayed. “Really?” Your voice cracking this time as you asked again. 

Shaking his head in approval, Mingyu kept playing with your hair as he tried to ease your worries away. After some time, he stopped to kiss your temple. “The best.”

You resisted the urge to giggle, pushing your face into his neck as you suddenly went shy from his words. That was the only thing you needed from him for today and it left you feeling much more than content. 

Oh how you loved being praised and oh how you loved being called a good girl, especially by Mingyu – and that’s exactly what you planned on continuing to be, his best girl.

[buntanteen]

cockwarming dilf!mingyu thoughts (nsfw)

summary: thoughts on reader cockwarming dilf!kim mingyu :3

contains: 18+ nsfw! mdni!!

✩ svt writing & fic rec masterlist ✩

thinking about cock warming and slow fucking dilf!mingyu

after closing the bedroom door behind him, mingyu turns to meet your gaze. the moment the two of you make eye contact, you both gravitate towards each other. the slow movements of feeling up his chest turn into rapid ones trying to undress each other.

walking backwards to mingyu bed, falling into the white sheets with him hovering about you. grazing open mouthed kisses and licks across each other's necks. nosing against each other’s skin as he slips into you. feeling so so so full as you grind down onto his pretty cock.

slow movements of mingyu's hips hitting every spot making you in absolute bliss. the pace slowing down to barely slow fucking. heavy breaths, quiet moans and slips of whimpers filling the room.

trying to keep quiet so none of his kids hear the two of you. mingyu having his arms wrapped around you and his head laying on top of your chest. you have one hand trailing down the curve of his broad back. the other hand is carding your fingers through his hair to move it away from his sweaty forehead.

the summer evening breeze cooling down your flushed skin. the sunset view illuminating his honey skin. the warmth of your and mingyu's bodies lulling the two of you to sleep.

ames note: my other mingoo writing -> bestie fwb!mingyu headcanons

author note: do not distribute my work on other platforms without my consent. if you see my writing in places other than this tumblr account, please let me know. my writings are purely fictional fantasises for fun. the people i write about are real human beings and should still be treated as such. please do not take my writings seriously or as truth.

[kenm4vhs]

in japan is already december 7th which means HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE HONORED ONE THE STRONGEST JUJUTSU SORCERER GOJO SATORU 💕💕💘💖🩷💞💓💞🩷💝💘💕💕💖💓💞💘🩷💝💖

[sheikfangirl]

Welcome to Hateno❤️

Post-Botw / Pre-relationship fluff

After a few days in Kakariko Village, Link brought Zelda to his house in Hateno. She was so eager to finally see it but on the other hand Link was nervous and did his best to hide his insecurity. He was a little embarrassed and wanted to know what Zelda would think of the house before admitting that he had actually bought it for her.

"Zelda is a Princess" he told himself. "She is used to castles and luxury... This house is smaller than her royal bedroom! "

But no. Zelda's reaction surprised him. Pleasantly surprised him. In fact, his nervousness level cranked up quite a bit 🤭

Little did Link know that Zelda's most secret wish was to share a cozy little house...with him ❤️

And the best thing about Link's house? Yes, you know what it is... There is only one bed 😉

[demigods-posts]

i have this headcanon that percy and annabeth are raging accidental flirts. but not with each other. like. they'll go to the coffee shop on fifteenth street. and compliment the barista on his hair and clothes and tip really well. but only for him. and they have no idea this boy is absolutely swooning over them. or. each time they to go the bakery downtown. they take the time to converse with the waitress at the counter as they eat her homemade muffins. and are incredibly vocal about how she's their favorite server. and how much they enjoy seeing her. and suddenly they're the only two customers that can get her services for free. except, they just think she's like that with everyone.

[paperultra]

back of house.

Pairing: OPLA!Vinsmoke Sanji x Fem!Reader Word Count: 1,113 words Warnings: Mild swearing

If it weren’t for his principles regarding women, you’re fairly certain Sanji would’ve throttled and strung you up to dry by now.

“I … I’m impressed, sweetheart,” he says with a bright smile, though under the swinging lights of the kitchen it seems more out of pain than pleasure. “You managed to burn water.”

Your cheeks flame as you peer into the blackened pot with him, all traces of the water you’d been tasked with boiling completely gone. Vanished. You have no idea how or why.

“I’m sorry, Sanji.”

“No need to apologize. Everybody makes mistakes –”

“Sanji!” you hear Zeff before you see him round the corner. “Why the hell do I smell something burning in my kitchen?”

“None of your business, old man,” Sanji snaps immediately, murmuring a quiet excuse me, dear to you before taking the pot by the handle and heading to the sink. He twists the faucet open and running water roars like thunder in your ears as he thrusts the pot underneath. “I have it under control.”

“Under control, eh?" Zeff says. He suddenly turns his squinted gaze upon you, and you shrivel. “This your doing, missy?”

“I –”

“Leave her alone,” Sanji interrupts. “I didn’t give clear enough instructions. It was my fault.”

“Oh, there’s no doubt about that.” Eyeing your guilty and defeated figure next to the stove, Zeff shakes his head with a sigh and points you to the door. “[Y/n], go out and wait tables for the rest of your shift.”

Immediately, you make a move to remove your apron. “Oka –”

Sanji makes a noise of dissent and turns the faucet off. “Wait tables? She can still chop the vegetables and help me plate.”

“You’ll do that yourself. Front of house needs the extra person, anyway.”

“I’m her mentor.”

“And I’m the damn boss.”

The rest of the staff roll their eyes and carry on while the two men argue in the middle of the kitchen. You swallow and take your apron off, balling it up in your hands. This isn’t the first time they’ve butted heads over your incompetence, and watching them now cuts at your last shred of dignity.

Clearing your throat, you grimace when Sanji’s head whips around to look at you.

“Zeff’s right,” you tell him. “Dinner rush is coming up soon and I’ll just be in the way, anyway.”

Zeff grunts with satisfaction.

The expression on Sanji’s face reminds you of a kicked puppy. “But …” he begins to protest.

“Oi, you heard what she said. Get back to work! We have customers waiting!”

Sanji blusters about before heading back to his station, casting you one final, forlorn look as he does so. You imagine that your own face looks just the same when you turn to leave.

—

You take orders and serve customers for the remainder of the day, as promised, and help with cleanup after closing time. And then, long after the sun’s dipped below the horizon, Sanji joins you on the upper deck with a steaming bowl of seafood fried rice.

“For the madam,” he says with a smile, offering you the bowl.

You accept it silently and take a bite as he sits down next to you. It’s perfect like it always is – savory and warm on your tongue, happy and gentle in your stomach. You’ve never known a home quite like Sanji’s cooking.

His eyes remain fixed on you as you eat all of the rice, scraping the bowl for every last grain and setting it down beside you once you’re finished.

“Thank you.”

“It’s nothing. I figured it would cheer you up.”

“It did.”

It did, and yet, your lips tremble and your throat closes up. You clench your hands into fists in your lap.

Sanji’s hand immediately presses your shoulder as you sniffle. “Are you alright?” he questions worriedly.

(His attentiveness strikes you like a hot iron sometimes, even now.)

“Why haven’t you given up on me yet?” you whisper.

His brow furrows. As if it’s obvious, he answers, “You want to be a cook. A lady’s wish is my command.” Sanji pauses. “And I can’t call myself the greatest cook in the East Blue if I can’t teach others to be great cooks as well.”

“I think you’d be the greatest regardless.”

You glance at him through watery eyes in time to see his face flush a deep red. He looks away hastily, chuckling with feigned modesty. “I’m flattered that you think so highly of me.”

Your shoulders lift in a shrug as you look back down at your hands. You reach up to blot away your tears.

How could you not think the world of Sanji? Or the world of anyone at the Baratie, for that matter? When you were kicked off the merchant ship you’d stowed away on two years ago, you had been sure that you’d be banned from setting foot in such a fine-looking restaurant. Years of scorn and slammed doors had not given you the chance to think otherwise.

But Sanji spotted you on the docks, called you madam like you really were one, cooked you a meal in the kitchen and talked to you. Zeff gave you a job and a bed of your own. The staff gave you a family.

“We’ll try again tomorrow. I’ll figure out something that’ll make everything click for you, and you’ll be a proper cook in no time.” Sanji leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and winks up at you. “I promise.”

As always, your heart skips a beat.

“Okay.”

Maybe, you realize suddenly, you don’t necessarily want to be a cook so much as you want to love the way Sanji does.

“That’s my girl.” Standing up, Sanji takes your empty bowl in one hand and offers the other for you to take. “Now, shall I walk the madam to her room, or does she wish to stay out on the deck for a while?”

You allow yourself to grin, considering. “The madam wishes to stay out here and …” you hesitate but then decide to soldier on, “and possibly chat with a dear friend for a few more minutes?”

Your pulse pounds in your ears.

Sanji’s eyes widen a bit. Then he blinks, and then he smiles, drawing his hand back and quickly sitting down next to you once more.

“A lady’s wish is my command,” he says.

He takes out a cigarette, making a quip about Patty while he lights it, and your combined laughter rings out across the Baratie. It’s perfect like it always is – savory and warm on your tongue, happy and gentle in your stomach.

Indeed, this is home.

[demaparbat-hp]

Mutual damage (a WIP)

[xinganhao]

🌱 wonwoo x producer!reader.

the five times wonwoo swears he's over you (and the one time that he decides he isn't) ★ see also: main post, drabble

♫ maybe i'm just not better than this, i haven't tried / 'cause maybe you'll finally choose me after you've had more time.

🌱 the five times.

when he sees you for the first time in over a year.

he believes it's the nice thing to do, treating you out to dinner. he froze you out, after all, because he was stupid and he didn't know how to handle his crush on you. he likes to think that the past fourteen months have made him better. wiser. so, that night, he makes it up to you. he also makes up a dozen different excuses. do his eyes linger on you a little too long as you happily drink your yogurt drink? he's just making sure you like what he chose for you. does he walk a little closer when he notices you're shivering from the evening cold? he's just concerned you might get sick. he doesn't like you anymore. he's better now, wiser now. he has to be.

when your second studio choom video comes out.

it's not the same as the first time, where he'd smiled to himself while watching you perform your latest comeback in STUDIO CHOOM's crisp, 4k quality. back then, that's how he had known he was done for. this time, he watches it purely out of curiosity. to add to the millions of views that the video is already raking up. he keeps a straight face the whole time. just watches with a perfectly neutral expression. he's just a guy supporting a friend, isn't he? when he gets through the entire video without smiling, he counts that as a win. if his heart— the bloody traitor— had stuttered at your ending fairy, well. that's an entirely different story.

on a random tuesday, just because.

he's never really seen the appeal in games like stardew valley; they were always a little too slow for his taste. but you'd absolutely begged, and so he begrudgingly bought the game for ₩20,600 just to shut you up. he still doesn't care much for it, to be quite honest. there's a lot of slow, lazy days where he just dicks around in-game. he bears with it anyway since you're always so happy when you beat him at fishing, or when you get to steal away the bachelorette he was going after. your voice is a low buzz in his ear as the two of you play until the sun has risen, until he's cussing you out for keeping him up so late when he has a schedule to go to. you let him complain all he wants because he'll still back online for co-op later that night.

when you're back in the same recording studio as him.

this one is the hardest, because this is where he fell for you in the first place. you, with your head bent as you fiddle with jihoon's digital audio workstation. you, with your usually friendly demeanor shuttered behind something so cool and collected. the pencil tucked behind your ear. the way you worry your lower lip as the boys croon. he wants to scream, wants to test just how soundproof this damn studio is. instead, he sings his lines. he makes adjustments as necessary. he watches you do your thing, even jokes to you here and there. it's all he can do to keep his mind away from what it wants so badly to stray back to. in the end, he doesn't scream. but when you smile at him and tease him that he did a good job— he wishes he had.

when he drives you home after you've had one too many to drink.

you're half-asleep in his passenger seat, all soft edges and incoherent mumbles. he tries to be cross with you, tries to tell you off for not knowing your limits and ending up like this. there's an unmistakable softness in his gaze, though, as he makes sure the seatbelt isn't too tight around your frame. he avoids all the potholes and goes extra careful over the speed bumps. by the time he makes it to your dorm, you're already passed out with your cheek pressed against the window. he decides to let you sleep for only thirty seconds more. as he mentally counts down— thirty, twenty-nine, twenty-eight— he tries to convince himself that it won't sting when he gets to one. (it still does.)

🌸 the one time.

on another random tuesday.

in the end, it's not an evening of stardew valley that gets him. it's not one of your fancams, not your warm presence in his shotgun. no, it's something much more stupid. something much more small. it's the way he looks for his phone when it pings. he doesn't even know if it's you who's texting him. but it could be, and that's enough to have him fishing through his bag hastily. he catches himself one afternoon, notices the way he's just a touch too excited to check the newest notification. he's not any wiser or better, it seems. he doesn't know if he can be. he's still the same jeon wonwoo with a hopeless crush on you.

[turbo-tsundere]

*superglues them together*

Aka, eeeeh fok it. Here's some ougoku stuff I've been sitting on. Happy THOSE GUYS day.

[flwrstqr]

❛　꒰⠀　 ⊹ FORBIDDEN LOVE WITH ENHYPEN

(PREC𝓲S) 🪽 ⋆ enhypen hyung line and you being in a secret relationship ♡ fem!r fluff !! && oneshot 1728wc. 𖥔 ݁ ARCHiVE 𓈃 ◌

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆

“this is so wrong,” you whisper, your breath mingling with his in the dim light of your secret spot. heeseung’s hand tightens around yours, pulling you closer, his forehead resting against yours. “but it feels so right,” he murmurs, his voice a soft plea, eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt. you smile, unable to resist the warmth in his gaze. “how did we end up like this, baby?” you ask, tracing the line of his jaw with your fingers. “we shouldn’t, but i can’t stop,” he confesses, his lips slightly in a pout.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆

“we shouldn’t be doing this,” you whisper, feeling jay’s breath warm against your lips, his hand cupping your cheek. “but i can’t help it,” he murmurs back, eyes searching yours as if looking for permission to continue. his thumb brushes over your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. “i don’t care what they say, baby. i want you.” “just one kiss,” he pleads softly, his lips hovering inches from yours, “please.”

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍

“jake, someone’s gonna see us,” you hiss, glancing nervously over his shoulder as he tugs you behind the door, his lips already ghosting over your ear. “let them,” he whispers back, a grin playing at the corners of his mouth. “i just want one kiss.” before you can argue, his lips are on yours, making you forget where you are. your fingers curling into his shirt, but then footsteps echo down the hallway. “jake—” you gasp, pulling back, but he just laughs softly, eyes sparkling with mischief. “relax, they’re gone,” he murmurs, stealing one more quick kiss before stepping away, a teasing smirk on his lips. “see? no harm done.” “you’re impossible,” you mutter, though you can’t help but smile. “and you love it,” he grins, holding you a little closer, and you know he’s right.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍

sunghoon’s jaw tightens as he watches someone flirt with you at the party, his hand gripping his drink a little too tightly. he knows he can’t react, not here, not with everyone watching. but it’s killing him inside, seeing someone else so close to you. when the night finally winds down and you’re alone, he pulls you into a quiet corner. “who was he?” he asks, voice low. “and god, why was he so close?” you smile, “are you really that jealous?” you tease, but before he can answer, you press your lips to his, cutting off any further questions. he melts into the kiss. when you finally pull away, he smirks, his voice dropping to a whisper. “where were we...?”

[multifandomfanfic]

In which Jenson and Y/N start dating during the 2024 season, and fans quickly catch on.

A/N: Enjoy everyone! Had fun making this! Also, I realize Jenson Button currently works for Williams, but apparently more people (by a little) associate him with McLaren... that doesn't really mean anything in this context but it made me make the reader work for McLaren. ANYWAYS. Ignore the time skipping. And I also didn't want to jinx anything for this season, so this doesn't go past Silverstone. Enjoy!

f1

liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1, honda, and 2,193,008 others

f1: Y/N Y/L/N is confirmed to leave Red Bull Racing at the end of the 2023 season.

The world-renowned engineer and test driver has been with Red Bull for seven seasons, being promoted to the Technical Director role for the 2021 season. Under her control, the team won three constructors and driver's championships.

redbullracing: Thank you for your many years of service, Y/N--we'll miss you!

yourusername: ❤️💛💙

susie_wolff: Off to bigger and better things! We're so proud of you!

landonorris: can you tell us all your secrets now?

yourusername: nice try but no <3 landonorris: ugh maybe zac can convince you yourusername: 🤫

user727: uh. what?

fanaccount01: what is going on? there were no rumors no nothing!

user668: People nowadays have no loyalty. Y/N spent seven years at Red Bull and now she feels as if she can leave? Where is the loyalty? What happened to sticking with your first job/team until you retire?Red Bull has done everything to prop her up--she can't just leave out of nowhere.

fanaccount02: why shouldn't she leave if she wants to? user154: it's red bull we've all seen how they've treated their drivers, whose to say they don't treat their engineers the same way?

f1

liked by yourusername, mclaren, pierregasly, and 2,203,487 others

f1: Y/N Y/L/N is confirmed to join McLaren and assume their Technical Director role at the start of the 2024 season.

The MIT- and Zurich-educated engineer has worked in F1 since 2016. She is the first female Technical Director and the youngest one in Formula One's history.

landonorris: can you tell us your secrets now?

yourusername: now that i'm contractually obligated to? sure 🥰 landonorris: nobody likes a smartass y/n yourusername: @oscarpiastri does oscarpiastri: i do

maxverstappen1: please come back 🙏

user837: omg max 😭😭

mclaren: 🧡🧡🧡

yourusername: excited to be a part of team papaya!

jensonbutton: I'm so happy you decided to join McLaren--you will not regret it!

yourusername: I trust you! 💕 fanaccount03: uhhhh jenson don't you work for williams user938: not to read into this too much but the two hearts emoji y/n? 🤔

fanaccount04: we love seeing a queen in action

yourusername posted to their story

mclaren

liked by landonorris, yourusername, ben_radcliffe, jensonbutton, and 215,655 others

mclaren: HUGE POINTS HAUL! 👊 A great drive from Lando and Oscar to deliver Down Under! 🤩 Look's like Y/N's skills have made quite the difference! 💡

zbrownceo: Best decision I ever made was hiring you, Y/N!

oscarpiastri: don't you have a wife and son mate zbrownceo: Would you like your contract to be renewed, Oscar? comment liked by yourusername

charli_xcx: leave some genius for the rest of us y/n jesus

yourusername: sorry i won't try as hard next time mclaren: no y/n please keep trying 🙏

landonorris: So lucky to have you, Y/N!

jensonbutton: Amazing job, team!

fanaccount05: So we agree we're all voting Y/N as driver of the day next time?

user710: yes fanaccount06: yes oscarpiastri: yes

yourusername

liked by jensonbutton, f1, sabrinacarpenter, colesprouse, and 524,389 others

yourusername: ɐᴉʅɐɹʇsnɐ ƃuᴉɥʇʎɹǝʌǝ ɹoⅎ sʞuɐɥʇ ✌️

maxverstappen1: Have you always been such an amazing photographer?

yourusername: flattery will not bring me back to red bull max 🥰 maxverstappen1: Please? yourusername: no 🫶

danielricciardo: i thought you said you needed a tourguide..?

yourusername: i had @valtteribottas do it. using the grid's resident australian was easier than hiring one. danielricciardo: he's not even really austrialian mate?? yourusername: harsh valterribottas: way harsh

jensonbutton: Those kangaroos really loved you

yourusername: me or the food i had in my pocket? jensonbutton: Both?

fanaccount07: Marry me, Y/N? 🥺💍

yourusername: give me a couple months and i'll get back to you on that fanaccount07: excuse me huh???

user819: please more bts pics of lando and oscar pleaseee 🙏

yourusername: i'll try my best 🫡

yourusername posted to their story

yourusername

liked by jensonbutton, postmalone, williamsracing, and 619,283 others

yourusername: goodbye lando no-wins 👋🧡

landonorris: couldn't have done it without you!

comment liked by yourusername

landonorris: what's my nickname now?

yourusername: lando one-win landonorris: could we do something with a little more creativity? yourusername: lando no-rizz? landonorris: i like the first one better

mclaren: We could not have done it without you, Y/N! 💪🏆

yourusername: It's an honor to work with you guys this season! I'm so proud of the team.

jensonbutton: Have I told you you're the best technical director in F1 yet today?

yourusername: no 🥰 comment liked by jensonbutton yourusername: this is how you do flattery right, @maxverstappen1. take notes maxverstappen1: 😑 fanaccount08: omg stop you guys are too obvious

user293: she is so unserious i love it

fanaccount09: hello again jenson we see you

yourusername posted to their story

jensonbutton posted to their story

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, mclaren, williamsracing, oscarpiastri, and 783,023 others

yourusername: whoopsies

landonorris: "whoopsies"?? y/n, it's not like it was ever a well-kept secret

yourusername: ok lando no-rizz landonorris: ...i want a new technical director yourusername: @zakbrownceo landonorris: NO PLEASE

lilymhe: you guys are too cute

yourusername: awww thank you lily! 🫶

jensonbutton: I love you ❤️

yourusername: love you too <3

fanaccount10: all the signs pointed to it and yet i was still in denial 😭

user474: they're literally perfect for each other what?

fanaccount11: ACTUALLY they're my new favorite f1 couple fr user987: please please please last 🙏

fanaccount12: jenson and y/n adopt me challenge

jensonbutton added to their story

[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.)

[puckinghischier]

here’s a Quinn thought… Quinn values his friend’s opinions about his girlfriend after he introduces her to the canucks for the first time

no cause he would be soooooo excited to get to the rink the next day and (not so) subtly slide you into his conversations to see what they thought of his sweet girl.

“so, speaking of new skates, y/n was so nervous last night to meet everyone, could you tell?”

“bro, that was such a good shot. and while we’re on the subject of shots, it sure was sweet of y/n to buy everyone a round last night, wasn’t it?”

“we’re gelling so nicely together this season! which reminds me, you know who else i feel like gels really nicely with everyone? y/n.”

and of course, everyone would have nothing but positive things to say about you, loving your bubbly personality.

quinn would let out a huge sigh of relief, his teammates’ opinion of you held to only a slightly lower standard than that of his family.

and when you show up at the rink later on in the practice, two massive trays of homemade cookies for the team ‘just because’, he knew it was because you really wanted to win them over, worried about your involvement with the team as the captain’s girl.

quinn simply stood by and watched with pride as the group of grown men dropped everything they were doing to run over to you, eyes fixated on the sugary treats as you handed them out like you were serving a group rowdy toddlers, knowing that the only thing you had to do to ‘earn’ their approval was just be yourself.

[touchyluffy]

After a hard fought battle, you were laying in bed your body covered in bandages. It was dark outside, the sun setting several hours ago, you tossed and turned trying to get comfortable in bed. But every position you moved into hit another sore spot on your body. With a frustrated sigh, you figured you'd get no sleep tonight.

Suddenly your door opened and, figuring it was Chopper coming to check on you, you pretended to be asleep so your crewmate wouldn't worry. He had basically barricaded you in your bedroom earlier that night because rest is the best medicine. But the footsteps were louder than Chopper's and when the person spoke you knew it wasn't the reindeer.

"I know you're not asleep." Luffy said, not worried about disrupting the quiet night. His finger tapping your forehead. You open your eyes, adjusting to the darkness to find your captain standing next to your bed.

"Get out, you-" You pulled the covers up around your body and were about to make a sassy remark when you see his eyes looking over your body covered in bandages, his face shrouded in worry.

"Luffy?" You asked, your voice coming out hoarse. It was not common to see his expression so deeply concerned. His name did not disrupt his search. He was so quiet, so observant, so unlike himself you almost thought you were dreaming. You rubbed your eyes and, after still finding him there, said his name again. He eyes met yours.

He finally spoke, "Can I sleep here tonight?"

You stared at him with your mouth hung open. Of the many things you knew about Monkey D. Luffy you can always count on him to be two things - unpredictable and blunt.

Seeing your confused expression, he explained, "You got hurt. I couldn't sleep thinking about it. I thought I could sleep here. With you."

He trailed off, his words seeming to surprise even himself. You searched him now, wondering who this was and who replaced your captain, but all you saw in his brown eyes was concern. Your captain had no perverted intentions.

Eventually, you nodded at him, moving over in the bed to make room for him.

Luffy's relieved smile lit up your dark bedroom and he set his hat down gently on your bedside table. Your heart did a flip when he moved the covers back, slowly stretching out his body in the bed and laying his head down on your second pillow.

He smiled at you, "Thank you." He closed his eyes and almost immediately started snoring.

You laughed quietly and settled yourself under the covers. Somehow your bed seemed more comfortable than it was before, your body feeling lighter and not covered in bruises. You moved your hand over Luffy's and closed your eyes, finally able to sleep.

Bonus: the next morning, Chopper walks into your room his hoofs full of bandages and medicines that all go clattering to the floor when he sees you and the captain in bed together. His shocked scream alerting the rest of the crew and waking you up, Luffy sleeps through your nervous, overexplaining of the scene.

part two