#I will treasure your things like little babies

[morgan-the-lonely-brick]

Holing my own stuff

Holding anybode else's stuff

[bumblingbabooshka]

Processing some things

Also the fact that he's crouching with his hands on his knees is so cute to me for some reason?? He does this in another episode too - the one where Chakotay finds a symbol on an unknown planet...it's just so adorable to me. He could just lean down but no. Also of course his fingers are spread again - GOTTA utilize the whole hand whenever you do ANYTHING (if you're Tuvok)

[qkmlh]

Gonna be real I’m so thankful for all the fandom elders I came across, got to grow up with, and had as examples on all the platforms I’ve used over the years

I’ve lost contact with many of them due to the sands of time and the ever changing fandom landscapes but I still think about each one of them and hope they’re doing well

[chuluoyi]

Baby gojo and daddy gojo not wanting to share mama gojo😭✋i-

࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 06:20 P.M 」

aww this is so cute of course this is the first i worked on after getting back from my weekend break <3 and actually i have this one similar ask too so i combined yours with theirs! here's some cute blinking gojo in phantom parade and okay now let us have some crack and make gojo suffer

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

“bwah!” a nudge.

“myah!” a shove.

and then—

“waaa!” a… slap (?) on the cheek.

“huh?” satoru winced, touching where the baby’s palm just connected with his face, blinking rapidly. so he wasn’t imagining things. this really was happening in front of his eyes.

and it was the baby—his baby.

your giggles filled the air in response.

“hey, you,” satoru took on a very stern look and an exaggerated frown, glaring at his own son. the baby merely babbled at him innocently, blinking his wide crystal blue eyes that mirrored his. “bad, bad minion. this is a very serious issue. you shouldn’t do that, you hear?”

the serious issue being each time he tried to lean closer to steal a kiss from you, your son always found a way to repel him away with his tiny hands.

you snorted at his righteous tone. “he’s just protecting me. even your kid knows you’re a danger.”

a gasp left your husband’s shiny lips, mockingly in disbelief. “me? a danger? i make your life a heaven on earth!”

“heav—pfft—”

“i give you love, food, my body—” he emphasized, pointing at himself for a dramatic effect, and you threw your head back, dissolving into a fit of laughter even more, “—heck, i even give you this naughty baby!”

“wha—no! that’s team effort!”

“still! and now he is staging an uprising against me?” satoru cheekily eyed his child, who was now clutching the fabric of your blouse, tiny fingers playing with the shiny diamonds of your necklace—a gift from satoru too, actually.

“look at him go,” he grumbled, his eyes following each little movement his son made, then dramatically yelped when the boy pawed at your breasts. “hey! no touching! those are mine!”

“please.” you almost choked on your laugh. your silly husband always had a way to make things sound funnier than they actually were, and that was what made you fall in love with him more each day, really. “the milk is his!”

“he can have the cow’s! and more importantly, it’s thanks to me that you’re so milky—”

“satoru! you’re so uncouth i can’t—!”

“see? you’re laughing so much! this proves enough that i make you happy every day!”

later that night, after you put your baby to sleep in his crib, satoru gently poked his cheek, his expression tender despite his pursed lips. “he is out like a light…”

satoru might whine a lot, but ultimately, you couldn’t miss the look of adoration and fondness that made him the father of your child. even without saying it out loud, you knew that he would willingly put everything aside and sacrifice anything—first of all, himself—if it was meant for his dearest, most precious treasure.

knowing he'd do the same for you only served to melt your heart even more. and you felt full—so full, in fact, with warmth and love and anything that was soft.

you really do love him, don’t you?

“look at him, he’s like a shrimp,” your husband pointed out, still gazing at his baby in wonder as he kept poking and prodding at the chonky rolls of his little arms, and you thought, nothing could have been more precious than this.

“satoru.”

“yeah?” he turned instantly at the sound of his name, but before he could react further—

you stood on your tiptoes and planted a swift smooch on his cheek, putting the overflowing love you held for him in it. “mwah!”

“…?!”

for the next three seconds, satoru malfunctioned. the brush of your sweet lips on his cheek was so innocent that he was rendered speechless. heat steadily gathered on his face, turning him pink despite himself.

“you…” he groaned, collecting himself, a dopey smile was quickly plastered on his face to cover up his setback as you burst into hearty laughter. “now you’ve started it…” and then he latched on you with a glint of a joker, launching a full-blown tickle attack.

“a—ah! why?! satoru! ahahahaha!”

. . .

safe to say, your wheezes effectively awoke your son from his slumber, and as a bit of payback, you left satoru in the dust to deal with the crying baby, both of them whimpering in unison since he had absolutely no clue how to comfort the little one.

[ann1eee]

Pampering Gojo Satoru because you know he’s had a bad day, even if he denies it.

Satoru returned to your shared apartment after quite a long day of work at Jujutsu Tech, placed a chaste kiss on your lips and went to sleep without his dinner, or a bath. You knew he had a bad day, and wanted to do whatever you could to make him feel better. Once you were sure he was asleep, you crept into the empty spot next to him, and spent a good hour stroking his head and kissing gently all over his face, making sure not to wake him up.

You woke up extra early in the morning, to drive to Satoru’s favourite bakery, and bring him a sugary sweet breakfast to replenish last nights lost energy. Just as you returned home from the bakery, you heard the bathroom door swing open and out came Satoru.

“Good morning baby” you cooed softly. He gave you a small smile and yawned as he made his way to the dining table.

You plated up his breakfast, adding extra whipped cream on his fluffy pancakes, just as he liked, in the shape of a heart. You served him his breakfast and he was shocked that you had made such an effort to drive all the way across town just for breakfast. He thanked you with a kiss on your lips, which escalated to a full on makeout session. You giggled as you pulled away and asked him to eat his pancakes before they get soggy.

After finishing breakfast, you asked him if everything was alright, and if something had happened the night prior for him to be so out of energy and upset. Hearing this, Satoru immediately tried to bring his walls back up by cracking a few odd jokes about the higher ups, hoping you’d think he was back to normal and not confront him further.

You realised Satoru had no interest in talking about his feelings, and rushing him to talk about it would do more harm than good. You smiled at him and kissed his forehead, because you knew how sweet he thinks it is.

“How about we have a day to ourselves today? We could relax and check out one of the new restaurants in the city?” you questioned, silently begging he’d give in and agree.

As if hearing your thoughts, Satoru agreed to the day off, but informed you that he might have to leave in case of an emergency. You beamed and nodded, pulling him into a tight hug as you thought about what you’d like to do with him.

After you both had showered, you decided to go to a lovely outdoor restaurant for lunch. You fed him a few bites, giggling as he got all shy when you wiped his mouth.

When you got back home, you decided to watch a movie in your dark bedroom, hoping Satoru would fall asleep and rest. He hadn’t been getting enough sleep recently, or ever, and you wanted him to relax on his day off. You put on a cute little romcom, and pulled Satoru onto your chest. You rubbed his back as you felt him drift off to sleep.

When Satoru awoke, he was greeted by the smell of something hot and sizzling. He gingerly exited the bedroom, and went into the kitchen, wrapping his arms around your waist as he rested his forehead on your shoulder.

“Thank you for today, I really needed it” he admits, taking a shaky breath. You turn around with concern in your eyes, and pull him in for a long hug. He melts into the hug, and holds you as if you were some sort of precious treasure he couldn’t let go of. You cup his cheeks and kiss him on his lips, then his cheeks, then his nose, eyes and forehead until he erupts into laughter.

“You’re the best thing that has ever happened to me.” He says in between giggles.

You smile contently, finally being able to hear his genuine laugh, not something forced or fake.

“I love you Satoru. I’m always here, whether you want to talk about it or not.”

He smiles back at you and lifts you up in the air, twirling you around like a princess as you squeal and giggle.

You always knew when Satoru was having a bad day, and you always knew how to make him feel better.

[whoskimii]

Nanami + ovulation he would treat us so well while fucking us hard and speaking sweet words <3

i love this request i feel like it's so nanami :3

⋆౨ৎ˚ notes > kento x you. filthy filth! i need me some of that :( he rails you but he's polite with it frfr. tell me if i missed anything!! ^^ ౨ৎ warning : you may have butterflies in your belly while reading this!! 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔

your husband was handsome, to say the least. it was an undeniable fact. you were always attracted to him, no matter the time. but when you were ovulating ? don't even get me started.

you were all over him. clawing, pawing at him, you name it. of course he found it sweet. he loved that his pretty little wife could go that crazy over him just from the fact that he was simply existing.

when you were ovulating and he'd come home from work, looking all tired and exhausted, his tie a bit loose and his sleeves rolled up ? that was certainly a valid excuse to practically pounce on him.

it was nearly three in the morning when you came for the fourth time. the fourth time.

your stamina was always higher during your ovulation week but right now ? you were completely fucked out. but he found so pretty, you can't blame him :(

he gently nuzzled your neck with his nose as the tip of his cock literally bullied your sweet spot. "you're so pretty, my love, y'know that ?" the way he spoke and the way he moved created such a contrast that it was almost unbelievable.

he murmured such sweet words into your ear, like you were the most precious thing he had. which was the truth. you truly were his most guarded treasure. but he was also fucking you so nice and deep into the mattress, almost as if you were a cheap whore he found down the street. your husband was such a polyvalent man, and you couldn't deny you loved it.

"surely you can handle a bit more, right ? aw, of course you can..." your senses were all filled with him. literally.

your hearing, your sense of smell and more— literally everything. they were as filled with him as your pussy were. "ken, s'too much..." you mumbled, grabbing his forearms weakly.

one of your legs was hooked around his waist to pull him deeper, as if he wasn't already touching your soul. you could swear, right there and then, that you felt him in your liver. "it's too much, you say ? my love... i know a liar when i see one."

your pretty manicured nails, the ones he paid for, were digging into the sheets. "m'not lying, i swear..." he chuckled. "yeah ? you say you're not lying, mhm ? why's she sucking me in, then ?" you knew what he was referring to. of course you knew.

your pussy. your husband loved talking about it as if it was an individual, who was worthy of respect.

your sloppy little walls were making such lewd sounds, almost the same ones you could hear in many pornographic movies. "s'just... i can't..." you babbled. you were on the verge of cumming and your husband knew that. he intertwined his fingers with you and his other hand slid between your bodies to circle your throbbing little clit.

"you can." he insisted, punctuating his words with yet another harsh thrust. he chuckled as you choked on your own saliva and he pulled his fingers away from your clit, only to stuff your mouth with them. "why don't you suck on my fingers, honey ? just like you suck on my cock. s'been a while since you did, huh ?"

his fingers were coated in your essence as he forced them between your lips. the taste of yourself made your eyes roll back. "yeah, s'been a little while, mhm ? i just keep fucking you, now. maybe i spoil you too much." he kissed your cheek. "m'gonna cum..."

he hummed and gently kissed your forehead. "yeah ? really ? go ahead, baby..." he whispered, one of his hands playing with your nipple. he pushed your knees to your chest and you moaned loudly. "go ahead." he repeated. "i love watching you come."

his words, mixed with the way he was playing with you so freely, made you cum. "ken !" you gasped as you clenched around him tightly. "fuck, that's it..." he didn't stop, even as you were climaxing for the fifth time that night.

the way your messy cunt tightened around him made him cum right after you. he buried his face in your neck as your fingers tangled with his blonde strands. "i love you..." he murmured.

as he finally came to a stop, he collapsed on top of you, chest to chest. he gave your lips a sweet, short kiss before caressing your cheek. "you want to rest, my love ? it's already three." at your weak little nod, he smiled. "let me just clean you up a little." he pulled out slowly.

he just fucked you nice and hard, and now he was treating you like a fragile little doll.

yeah, your husband was truly a polyvalent man.

<33 do you guys like it ?

⋆˚࿔ kimi 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

[defmaybe]

Not Shy

1k words

aespa’s Yoo Jimin/Karina x Male Reader

See also: Sticky

“Are you sure no one noticed us coming in here?”

“The five-minute interval shouldn’t alarm anyone, f–fuck.”

You whimper as Jimin drags her lips on where the suit doesn’t cover, so—the hollow of your throat. Your back is leaning on the women’s bathroom door.

“And by the way, ngh, it’s like they’d snitch on a student president, anyway.”

“You’ve got nothing to lose, baby. You’re a fucking treasurer, mmm.”

“I–,” are the last things you can rebuke before the buttons of your shirt are unlocked.

It’s true, aside from a few bills collected onsite, you have absolutely no worries at this second, both at work and in reliability. Background works—billing, accounting—won’t be affected by whether you’re getting fucked by your head of student council, anyway. Treasurer is quite a passive position to do, isn’t it?

“Not so witty anymore, mmh?” Karina bends down; her tongue paints a straight line up your abdomen, and you clench your mouth tightly to not have the other partygoers hear your symphony—her words.

“C–Can’t you just like, ngh, forbid them o–or something?” you ask, legs shaking with her hand groping your bulge, her lips still printing endless marks on your chest. Your composure is stripped off with each clothing removed.

“I wish secrets work like that, dumbass,” she responds, fingers grabbing your crotch–tightly, sending a shock throughout your lithe frame.

“Ngh! F–Fuck~ Alright, I–I get it, Jimin.”

“Be a good boy for me and keep quiet, alright?” She pulls back from your now-reddened body, locking you within her eyes–brown, alluring. It helps that her hair is tied to the back neatly with no stray strands, so that you can see her face—god, that face, the perfectly sculpted nose, the rosy red lips—clearer.

“S-Sure.” You can do nothing but comply.

Now, the logistics of the bathroom aren’t very complex. There are stalls—perfect for a sitting position. There are walls, obviously—pin Jimin against the wall and fuck her brainless. Though, is she a woman like that—the kind that is so eager to become a student president in college, and so pliant at the same time? You’d argue that there exists a woman in this intersection; it’s just not Jimin.

This is where the mirrors and the sinks come in.

“Ready?” The stark eye contact is still there, and she’s still grabbing your aching erection under the pants.

“Ready what?”

“You know, fucking my cunt,” Jimin growls, letting go of your bulge onto the back of her neck, trying to unlatch her thin, black strap holding her night together.

“O–Oh, yeah.” And swiftly, the clanks of your belt, the swoop of your pants, and another swoop of your underwear finally unshackles your raging length for her.

At the same time, her dress comes undone, freeing her voluptuous breasts topped by the hardened brown peaks just for you, and you don’t realize that you’ve been entranced by them for a little too long.

“Hey,” Jimin says, snapping her fingers. “Yeah, I fucking know they’re big. Now fill me up already.”

You gulp, “Y-Yeah,” as you watch her taking off her laced purple panties.

She then hands you the garment. “Here, a souvenir for our underappreciated treasurer.” She rolls her eyes while saying so, not believing the words coming out.

With not much time to lose, you quickly shove her used underwear into your pockets, making sure no tails of it can be seen. And getting ready, Jimin walks towards the marble sink, planting hands on it. Her immaculate features are shown in the mirror. She pulls the charcoal-black dress up, looking at you in the reflection.

“Fuck me.”

It would be the sight of your ass jerking back and forth if someone is to walk in on the debauchery—not your cock, not her tits (helps that your hands are using them as handles—grabbing, squeezing). Every thrust in and out of her, the sight of her contorted expression, the sound of her silent moans are sending you into rapture.

“Y–Your vagina feels so good, J–Jimin, ngh,” you moan. Your cock now glistens with her juice.

“Say ‘cunt’ or ‘pussy’ like a normal person, idiot. I’m not a fucking prudish,” Karina scoffs.

You aren’t in the right state of mind to debate, really. Her wet, tight cavern is so determined to milk every drop of essence out of you to drought. The walls squeezing around your needy length is just too much to handle.

And there it is, your impending release. You can feel it in your loins, far, but it’s there. Karina gives you a stern eye contact along the act—purposeful, ardent. Hell, she’s even smirking at you. She’s always this confident, isn’t she? It has been like this since the first meeting. She’s headstrong, not swaying by a bit, even if she’d be alone with the choice. She’s kind, not swaying by a bit, even if it means getting herself into harm. She’s perfect. She’s fucking perfect.

“F–Fuck, Jimin, I think I’m gonna–”

“Just fucking cum inside me, baby. I wanna feel your cum dripping down my legs. I wanna feel your cum–, ngh,” she cries out, unable to form the last words. She doesn’t seem to care about her forte anymore.

And it’s like you’d care, anyway.

“Cum with me, alright?” Jimin looks back at you, before mumbling under her breath, “Ha, fucking bye-nior prom.”

It’s not much more for you to release your seed inside of her, as you can feel her body shrieking around your cock. It’s a euphoria—eyes fluttering, hips slowing down, panting and such. You can hear your cacophony echo throughout the bathroom. 

As you two come down from the orgasm, Jimin’s breaths are still ragged. “F–Fuck, that’s great, my dear treasurer.”

“Y–You’re t–too, my dear president.” You’re also unable to catch your rhythm.

“Do you think anyone would hear us?”

You ponder for a few heartbeats before replying, “Yeah, definitely… maybe.”

[adollrable]

Talking in your sleep

ও summary: you hear your boyfriend say things while he sleeps.

ও cw: leon kennedy (re4r) x female reader! fluff, established relationship, him being a sleepyhead!

ও wc: 900

a/n: so i have this little headcanon... that when leon is deep in sleep, he talks while he sleeps... and that's all, it came to me listening to the song by the romantics :p something small (i think) i hope y'all like it =]

You love being with Leon.

You always learn something new with him day by day. Either from the anecdotes of him training in the military, or those (scarce) of him training to be a police officer.

At first he was a closed man, without the slightest desire to open his heart. You changed that, and now you are his little treasure.

There are still things that he hasn't finished showing but as you told him in a memory of your first date, you can go little by little.

Lately, you've learned more about small details and habits that he wouldn't feel comfortable showing around other people, you see more of him as a person.

So, you find yourself mesmerized by every new thing you see in him. Every detail, whether of his body or his personality.

Tiny moles, some acne marks on his cheeks, that stubble that never grows. His hair? How is it so soft and pretty? His fingers feel rough but his palms are very soft, probably because of the fingerless gloves he wears on his missions. His legs are strong but they are cozy when you sit on them for a cuddle session. His arms serve to warm you on those cold nights, and he loves to sleep cuddling next to you.

You also noticed that in public he is usually not a big fan of displays of affection, but in subtle ways he lets others know that you are not available. Hand on your waist, hands intertwined, kisses on your forehead, he offers you his jacket.

But at home? He pampers you as you deserve. Kisses everywhere, hugs from behind while you cook something for both of you, when you are very tired of wearing heels and you get home he doesn't hesitate to pick you up. And the list can continue.

Now... There's a little problem.

It may be silly, but it doesn't stop you from being insecure. And it's ridiculous to be!

But... The times Leon has said I love you are counted. You even think you can count them on the fingers of just one hand.

And you understand that everyone has different languages to express their love to their loved ones... But you bombard him with "i love you's" every day and he responds with a kiss on the cheek.

It sucks to feel insecure about that when it is obvious that the man loves you, even more so knowing that he is still a closed guy about several things.

But still, you can't help it.

You adjust the sheets in your shared room, lying on the bed, followed by Leon who lies on his side. You look at him and smile as you lean down to place a kiss on his forehead to which he smiles slightly. "Is that a good night kiss?" Leon asks as he settled down next to you, resting his head on your chest.

"Mhm, so you have nice dreams." You responded to which the smile on his face remained. You wrapped your arms around him and let out a sigh. His cool skin greeting your hands as you delicately ran them down his back, feeling his muscles relax.

Leon always sleeps without pajamas, and if it's cold he only puts on cotton pants. He says it's enough for him to have you and the sheets to keep him warm.

"Sleep well baby." He says as he similarly wraps his strong arms around you, a firm grip but not so tight as to hurt you. "Sleep well, Lee."

And with that, between small, lazy smiles, you fell asleep.

Until you started hearing things.

Your sleepy mind does its best to bring you back to consciousness, and you come across an image so sweet that it made you smile.

Leon remained asleep on your chest, one arm thrown over your stomach. His cheek was pressed against one of your breasts and made his face bulge, his lips remain in a small pout. You wanted to kiss him until you were tired. But you noticed that he was very asleep.

One of the things you learned about him is that Leon is a light sleeper. At the slightest noise he wakes up.

Leon's missions, in addition to the horrors that come with doing his job and especially the stress, make it very difficult for him to sleep as peacefully as he is doing in your arms. So you are relieved that you can give him a little comfort to sleep so peacefully.

So, you gently ran your hands through his hair, which made him let out a sigh and move to cling closer to you. That made you stop for fear of waking him up, but what he did next surprised you.

You noticed how his lips (still pouting) parted slightly and the noise that made you wake up came from him. You were no stranger to this, as Leon sometimes had nightmares, but this time it was very different than usual.

"Mmph... B-baby?" His voice made you open your sleepy eyes, did you wake him up?

No... He's breathing very calmly. You doubt he's awake.

He tries to hold onto you tighter and tries again, "Babe..." His voice sounds thick and hoarse from his time asleep, and you hesitantly decide to answer him. "Yeah?"

"I love youuu..." He mutters, that made you smile. "I looove you sooooo muuuch." It was funny in a way, his voice was muffled by his bulging cheek.

A small but almost imperceptible giggle took over you. "I love you too, Lee."

That interaction filled your heart with warmth, feeling happy that in his dreams he had the courage to tell you that he loved you. But what you didn't believe was that he would spend the next... Thirty minutes babbling about how much he loves you.

Well... You're probably going to wake up with a headache, but certainly that insecurity that he doesn't tell you that he loves you so often disappeared.

a/n: well, i'm not that sure about this one BUT i like to post silly little things =] i wasn't sure what to say to justify leon saying i love you to reader while he's sleeping LOL sorry about that

i had four exams this week and somehow i managed to approve them so my little treat is writing ;p

i just know this man TALKS embarrassing corny things while he sleeps and i just want him to nap in my arms 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

thanks 4 everyone for reading this, likes, comments and reblogs are very appreciated 🤲🏻🤲🏻🤲🏻 that's all for this time, bye-bye

[louebel]

— [ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 . . . 𝟐 .ᐟ ]

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: sanji, zoro, mihawk, buggy × gn!reader 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: not proofread and rushed,, it's not as wholesome as the first and more calm + horny my bad, lowercase, gets a bit explicit with sanji and buggy at the end... i am deeply sorry not. rest is sfw, fluff, and... fluff. usage of "baby, sweetness, honey, good boy" (and... others? i forgot) in all of them except zoro's, lots of caresses and kisses! these are rather short,, anddd dripping divider by @ benkeibear :) 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you couldn't help but share the sudden warmth you felt with them, resulting in... a lot of kisses! ... and more. part one is here!! though idk should i repost it? since it's in my archived blog— eh idk maybe not.

— 𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈, wc. 699

"sanji... honey..."

a very pleasant smell engulfed the kitchen. sweet and homely, a dish that piqued your appetite. seagulls could be heard outside the sunny, the sun rising slowly to greet all those who continued their lives.

and then there were you two, already awake. sanji always got up earlier, and so you did too, wanting to keep him company at such early hours. you could still hear sanji's wails and the rivers of tears plopping onto the wood at your kind gestures, and you swore you saw the sunny sweatdrop that day. (you were definitely not imagining things...)

"hmm? yes, love?"

his voice was your greatest weakness. freshly awake, groggy with sleep... if only you could both rest right now — what you'd do to feel him tend to your scalp, brushing his treasured fingers upon you, perhaps humming a tune in your ears. you remembered his words: "because my love for you is so profound, i can't contain it" and now, every time he murmurs, you melt a little more, thinking of what he said. of course, not all the time, sometimes he just does it.

sadly, however, you couldn't go back to sleep. he had to cook, and he was going to treat you with the most delicious, mouthwatering breakfast ever, but you'd still be disappointed since what you wanted was... something else. you were so spoiled...

"i think i could get something else for breakfast... it's fine, right?"

now, you know sanji despised wasting food. it wouldn't really be a problem considering luffy, but... why didn't you say anything?

he glanced at you from his shoulder, a bit perplexed. he felt his heart flutter as you approached him, wrapping your arms around his waist, pressing your face on his tender nape.

"sweetness?"

"... those are definitely sweet," you pointed at the pancakes, already smiling, "but i think you're sweeter."

it was only morning, damnit. and yet here he was, already blushing, cheeks tinted a lovely shade of pink. a small chuckle rumbled from his chest, the cook lowering the heat as the first batch was ready, before turning to you and pressing a tender kiss upon your forehead.

"you do, love?"

"mhm. and, you know, i'd really like if you gave me some of your love right now. i think that's the most sweet... 'm thinking about just sitting here and kissing you all over while telling you "i love you, i love you, i love you" ," you brought his hand to your chest, smiling at how his visible eye softened. "feels really warm right here, just thinking 'bout it..." you were so wonderful that sanji might just die on the spot.

"oh, love... you can't just say those things so early..."

"hmm? and why not?"

"... m—might faint."

fainting in your arms didn't sound so bad though, he thought dreamily.

"ppff... if you faint, i won't shower you with kisses."

"i won't faint."

you giggled at his suddenly determined tone. tenderly brushing your lips around the side of his neck, you nudged his jaw, sliding your hands under his shirt, feeling him tense beneath your skimming fingers. his flesh felt firmer to the touch, lineaments of his abdomen and torso defined with each part you mapped.

"hmm... i love you so much, sanji. really love you, hon."

"... a—ah, getting handsy, aren't you?"

you loved how he got so flustered with just a couple of touches. he shuddered as you placed your hand on the crook of his neck, pulse quickening beneath your thumb. he was rather sensitive, there, too...

"you— you know, i, hnngh, think you're the sweetest..." he whimpered, his slender fingers finding your tantalizing ones.

"hmmm? is that so, honey?"

"y—yes — ohh... love..."

you were gliding dangerously lower...

"mmm... you're so hard, sanji." oh... "i think you should relax a bit before cooking..." oh my... "it's so early... you need proper rest." ba-dump.

"... i—i do, don't i? heh... hehe..."

"yeah, you do. come on... i'll show you just how sweet i am. will give you all my love. you want that, baby?"

"oh, ooh please... goodness, don't—don't hold back, mon ange..."

"mhm... good boy. relax..."

and soft moans soon filled the piquant kitchen — followed by smooches, wet sounds, and declarations of love from both ends.

you truly were the sweetest in his eyes.

— 𝐑𝐎𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐀 𝐙𝐎𝐑𝐎, wc. 388

"zoro... your face looks pretty kissable today."

sometimes, zoro had no idea what went through your head. you've both been sitting on the deck, zoro against the mast and you lying your head on his lap. he was going to take a nap but it seemed you were feeling chatty, so he decided to entertain you for a little while before he dozed off.

he had no idea what you were thinking, but he liked it.

"does it?" he mumbled, gazing down at you to see you shift in his lap, eyebrow raising as you got up and cuddled to his side, chin on his shoulder. he tilted his head slightly, seeing your pupils dilating at the sight of him; already quite big as the sun was setting. he smirked, though the expression on your face only made his heart beat faster.

you looked completely smitten.

"yep. very."

"hmm..."

smooch. smooch. smooch.

"oi..."

and he probably did, too, in his own way. he couldn't see it, but you did. how he relaxed, how he so softly sighed. you smiled, realizing just how much he laid himself bare to you. it wasn't the same trust he shared with luffy, no. it was something more intimate. something... sweeter. and with each osculate to his neck and jaw, zoro loosened just a bit further, his consciousness slowly slipping away.

"hm. thought you said my face." yet, he still taunted you, with that stupid smug grin on his lips. you rolled your eyes, continuing to pamper him with love.

"shut up. mm..."

smooch.

"love you, zoro. so much."

you slowly pushed him down on the floor, the swordsman tensing a little before following your silent command. you lay on his body, his arms splayed on the wood, eye closed as you kissed his eyelid, brow, and nose. a reddish hue colored his cheeks, chuckling as your tiny, adoring pecks tickled his skin.

so lovely.

" 'that so..?"

"yeah."

your eyes mitigated further, noting the corners of his mouth curve up more. you were lucky...

"mhh... y'know, i think you look pretty kissable today, too."

he'll rearrange his naps, just for you. with a kiss to your lips, he sealed the unspoken "i love you" with his tender actions — his heart all yours.

and he'd care for your own... like one of his swords.

— 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐔𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐈𝐇𝐀𝐖𝐊, wc. 338

perona was speechless. she knew, she knew. she knew that you were dracule's lover...

"miiiiihaaawk... will you look at me?"

but what she witnessed was as surprising as the first time you told her that.

you grinned at the sighing warlord, shutting his book as you've been pestering him for minutes. arms wrapped around him, kisses to his neck — he wasn't a man easily swayed, even by you. the armchair leaned back as he finally eased, your form against his soft.

"... do you have nothing to do?" he huffed, rather tired of your games. interrupting him was almost sin; perona had no idea how you lived. were these the privileges of being dracule mihawk's partner? he treated you so differently... how could you even fall for someone as brooding as him? every time she did something nice, like give him pastries or clean the castle as she had nothing to do, he'd ignore her completely. (though he appreciated it.)

"i do. i'm loving you." yet here he was, letting you speak and do as you wished with a faint smile on his face. he looked like a big cat.

"something other than that."

"hmm... no. i wanna love you right now."

the longer she watched from her little corner, the more her mind crumbled.

"... you're impossible."

"but you love me too. like how i love you. i love you a lot."

you were so... mushy. something that did not connect to mihawk at all — unless you were around. his actions conveyed what he felt, even if they were scarce at the moment.

"you..."

"like, a looot. you know? a lot. i really do."

but... no words would topple from his mouth, perona was sure of that.

"i reciprocate." incredibly sure.

"c'mon, say it." there was no way.

"... i love you too."

"there you go. good boy."

he could only sigh at your antics — though inside he felt as warm as a star. after that, perona left her hiding spot and dragged her jaw that sat on the floor.

— 𝐁𝐔𝐆𝐆𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐍, wc. 426

buggy was not happy.

he was not happy you gave him a kiss, in front of his whole crew, completely unbothered as you pretty much established he was yours. he did not like it. at all.

"just..! what do you think you're doing?! kissing me out of nowhere? they have no idea we're together! what if someone took a photo!—"

"did i tell you?"

"—tell me what?"

you chuckled while he blinked. it was always funny how simple it was to make him stop; one word and he'd immediately listen to you. it was as if his own temporarily had no weight, just to hear your own thoughts, only to slander them later or actually agree with them.

most of the time, he ended up stuttering. you loved how much he hated you teasing him; it became your favorite pastime.

"you look incredibly cute." your grin always meant trouble.

"my nose looks redder than usual??"

your chuckle the last sound he heard,

"no. you, look, cute. cute. adorable. precious." and your words forever his downfall.

you could see his cheeks gaining color, a pretty rouge that matched his lipstick and nose, mirth decorating your face at the view. he was just so, so so cute. but when he snorted and flailed his hands around with parts of his body floating at the use of his devil fruit... that's when he got even cuter.

"y—you say that all the time!" he squeaked and pointed at you, stomping closer to you to somehow look "threatening". in reality, he was just a cub. you kept on smiling, looking at him with an adoring gaze that managed to make his poor heart stop — your affection a treat he relished.

"i mean it." plus, when your voice had that adoring tone... he could do nothing but take what you said. maybe he was just making a big deal out of things...

"w—well! of course you mean it, hahaha! i'm... buggy the... aah..."

his eyes almost popped out of his sockets as you got closer to him; wrapping your arms around his waist, teeth nibbling his neck. a tiny, soft moan that made you shudder left buggy's lips, already trembling.

oh...

"... mm... love you so much, baby. 'm sure they don't mind the kiss... come here."

he could barely get a word in, before his squeals and whimpers reached even those outside, as all of his skin got caressed by your lips. soon, he was screaming "i love you too!" and your stunt was the last thing he thought about.

[bunnys-kisses]

Hi love can I get a tiramisu with a side hot coffee (w baby trapping) made freash by Max Verstappen ty 💛

bakery menu (complete)

want to submit your own order? then hit up the menu! i have tons of items to choose from and i'd love for you to check them out! any driver is available (must be 18+, duh) so please feel free to throw your orders my way <3 i love the way your mind thinks, lovely anon. that's one way to get competition off the track! i hope you love the fic!

tiramisu (“my little slut to ruin.”) + coffee (rivals au) served by max verstappen (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, driver!reader, rivals au, baby trapping, (technically) unprotected sex, jos verstappen jumpscare, missionary & mating press,

max knew the hunger of racing. it was almost a blood lust. it was a fire in the belly of a driver that pushed them to such limits that it would kill some. formula one drivers were all striving to be the best. max knew this quite well, spending years in a shadow he could never escape. he yearned for approval but it always came to him like a bitter pill. but, not you. you were the track's princess, praise came to you on a silver platter.

and it annoyed the hell out of max. many prayed for his downfall both on a driving level, but also on a personal level. people wanted him to fail, but those same people wanted you to fly high to a second world championship.

so when he saw his own father smiling at you and give you a firm hand shake followed by a pat on the back after a spectacular win. max knew there was one thing to do.

make sure you never stepped foot on the track again.

"c'mon, schat." max said as he leaned against the doorway of the motor home on the track. he saw you walk by back to your teams. he crossed his arms and watched you on shaky legs.

you made a face, "treasure?" you laughed, your voice bounced a little down the row of motor homes for the weekend, "max verstappen, do you forget who i am?"

he snickered, "currently you look like a shaky deer. why are you in heels, you never wear heels?" the two of you butt heads often. you seemed to get under each other's skin often enough.

"it's called going on a date, max. have you heard of those? plus, shouldn't you be fucking some grid bunny tonight? we are on your home turf, might as well trap some poor girl with your bastard."

he laughed louder, "funny. were you having a night on the town? i bet you opened your legs to whatever manager you could find. whoever would give you the biggest contract." his words were biting and so were yours. while it was always better to catch flies with honey than vinegar.

it was easier to catch a rival with vitriol than kindness.

you got your heels off and threw them one after the other towards him before you stopped over bare foot to get in his face. you got onto the small porch and he was all smiles.

"do you have-"

"of course. after all, you're not the first grid bunny of the weekend." then pulled you into the motor home with a slam of the front door. before you could chew him out for that term being used towards you. he had you pressed against the door of the motor home with your leg wrapped around his hip and his large hand pushing up the already short skirt of your dress.

he had no interest in any of the fans with his face plastered across their fat tits. while the women of his home country were beautiful, his eyes were set on the snapping jaws of another driver.

his lips down your neck, teeth grazed across your pulse point and it made you shudder. nipples grew hard under his touch. he started to grope your breasts and you moaned out loud in the near empty motor home.

clothes were shed, leaving you vulnerable. it was a surprise that you made it to the bed. for a brief moment as you dragged him to the bedroom, max thought he was going to breed his future wife on the linoleum wooden floor. and max may have wanted you bred asap but, he wasn't going to hurt your poor elbows and knees. his wife deserved the best, you were going to be doing a big thing. giving birth to the next legend of the track.

"schat." he said softly his mouth to your ear. his strong arms wrapped around you and pulled to his chest. his hands then went to your breasts where he groped the flesh, near bruising them. they were only going to get prettier once you got pregnant. he felt lucky tonight.

"max. fuck." you groaned before you managed to pull yourself away from him and get onto the bed. you propped yourself up on your elbows as you gazed at him. he eyed your beauty as he got closer to you and the bed. his cock at full attention.

oh yeah, you'd never step foot in a car again after tonight. well give it a few weeks and then you'll be off the track for good. he got between your legs on the bed. he got those lovely thighs around him as he continued to gaze at your figure.

"pretty thing." he said, "should i be worried that another man touched you tonight? or were you a good girl?"

you looked at him, "you're not my husband. max. you don't own me."

max smiled before he leaned over you, his bare cock almost slipped into your slick hole as he grabbed a condom from the box in the nightstand. you were trying to get out from under him before he slipped in without protection. a condom was what you thought was your savior. but, max had pricked little holes in it earlier, when he found out you'd be back to the track late.

you watched him get the condom on, the low light made it almost impossible to notice that there were small tears int he tip of the condom. with enough force of his hips, max could probably tear through it. you held onto his forearms as he rubbed his cock up against you for a few moments before he sank inside your sweet cunt. it made him groan and feel a heat in him.

"perfect little thing. i bet you thought about me while you were out. thought about all the thing i'd do you that's why you came in here, right? because you knew you'd get that cunt fucked out."

you felt your ears burn as he continued to rut against you. you dug your short nails into his arms as he thrusted against you. his cock was like a bully, just like the rest of him. but it made your toes curl as you laid under him.

max verstappen was your rival and now he was too busy gorging on your cunt like he owned it. like you were a couple. but, little did you know. the plan was going well in max's mind. it wasn't a difficult one anyway. he just needed his achy, thick cock inside of your gooey cunt and finish inside of you. the rest was biology's doing so he could take his hands off the wheel for that.

and if you weren't pregnant there was a whole other leg of the season plus the off season to really make sure it took. but, you strived for perfection, it was written in your dna. so you'd be good and take him the first time. let his baby sprout in your sweet womb. no need to think about racing when you're caring for his child.

"jij bent de mijne." he said like a promise as he picked up the pace. his cock shoved into the softest parts of you. for such a bitch on the track, your pussy was gummy soft and just pulled him in.

you whined and arched your back. max enjoyed the heavy rise and fall of your pretty breasts. oh, you were beautiful. maybe he was lucky, giving you a baby now. not allow anyone else on the grid to get a taste of you. because you were the kind of woman that men got addicted to.

he picked your hips up further and started to really work at it. your legs were over his shoulders while he fucked you with such vigor that you couldn't find it in you to grip onto the covers under your back. your toes curled while he pounded into you. heat flashed across your body and you felt like you were on fire.

you panted and moaned while max was determined to breed you. you'd be such a pretty mother to his children. did you think he was stopping at one? no. because with you he was going to breed champions and that fact made pleasure lick up in his stomach. he watched you squirm a little as you neared climax and it made max hot all over.

yeah, it was only right that he bred you. keep you off the track and at home with the kids. no need to step on anymore toes in formula one. retire with grace and raise his kids. put that hot feminine body of yours to good use, grow them well in your soft womb. be good for your husband.

he leaned further, pushing you further into yourself to kiss you hotly on the lips once more. he felt your cunt tighten around him as you panted heavily. he had you in a full mating press as his cock bruised your sweet insides. poor thing, marked forever by your rival. the kissed between you two were hot and left heat dripping through your body. his cock felt heavy between your legs. pushing you to your limit. that was a good future mrs. verstappen. you climaxed, he watched bliss crossed your face as you tensed up then relaxed. your heart hammered in your ears as you laid under him, knees to your chest and over his shoulders while his leaky blunt cock head hit against you.

he came soon after, but even when he stilled to a stop. he kept the position to make sure every last drop knew where to go. now wasn't the time for mishaps. he knew that the condom was fully torn at the tip. there was nothing protecting that pretty cunt of yours.

sorry, schat, that was the game. and as max looked into your dazed eyes, he thought that you didn't mind. when he put your legs down and got you on your stomach.

you whimpered a little and he shushed you with heated kiss. he didn't even try to pretend he changed the condom before he was back to being inside of you. you two had a long night together.

max hungered for a lot of things, but as he listened to your sweet whimper and moans, he hungered for one thing. your cunt happily drooling down his cock.

-

"think he's going to do it?" max asked, his arms crossed over your rounded middle. his head on your shoulder as you both watched your eldest son do a second lap on the track.

you looked at him and replied, "of course he will. he's our son." your son, remko was eight now and had taken to the track like nothing else. maybe max's plan didn't work when he made you retire years earlier due to being pregnant with your son. you would eventually step on the track again, first watching your husband win three more championships and now your son taking an interest in it.

you turned back to your son as he hugged the curves of the track. you worried your bottom lip a little. it was a little too much hugging for your liking. you rubbed your lower back. maybe it was the pregnancy emotions getting to you. making you worry.

your career ended after two championships. something you held with pride. you were married to max now, had a son and expecting another in a few short months. as max rubbed your middle and kissed your cheek. you did get one thing out of it though, a promise from your young son that while he would race under the verstappen last name, he'd happily race under your country's flag.

so while you couldn't bring your nation joy, you'd be nothing but smiles when your son held the flag high in due time. some would've considered that max trapped you with a baby (or rather two). but those same blue eyes and charming smile still lured you in. even though you had your doubts about that night being an 'accident', there was nothing you could really do now. both your boys needed their father.

"i love you." max said, hand wide across your swollen middle.

you looked at him, your rival turned husband. as your son crossed the finish line for his practice, you kissed your husband on the lips. the time of the laps were called and you said to max, "i love you too." then watched your husband pull away to congratulate remko on a good practice.

knowing your luck both of your kids will be in racing. and you knew if max had his way, the entire future grid would have the verstappen last name. <3

[peachesofteal]

Light On - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader 🎄Simon has himself a merry little Christmas - for @glitterypirateduck's cod holiday challenge

Simon opens his eyes to an empty bed on Christmas morning.

His breath catches in his chest when his hand slides across the sheets, instinctively seeking the warmth of your body, only to discover your side of the bed empty. 

His rational, tactical, professional mind tells him you've probably just gotten up with the baby. That for some reason, he slept too deeply and didn't wake up when she did this morning, like he usually does. You're in the guest room, Emmaline's room, now, or in the kitchen. Maybe you're already drinking your first cup of coffee. You're fine. The baby is fine. Nothing is wrong. 

But his heart... his heart screams. Terror ices his veins, adrenaline and fear taking control of his gross motor skills, legs twisting beneath him as he stumbles out of bed and races for the door. They’re fine, they’re fine, they’re fine-

“Sweetheart?” His voice betrays him. He sounds stressed, anxiety piquing, frantically turning the corner into the kitchen. Not again, he can’t do this again, this can’t happen again… 

It’s empty. The front door is still locked, and so is the patio’s, twinkling Christmas tree glowing in the late dawn light. His mind splits. Check Emmaline’s room, they’re probably in there, get control of yourself… and… the glock 19 is closest, should still be under the top shelf, call Price, mobilize the team- 

“Simon?” He whirls at the sound of your voice, air rushing out of his lungs, drawing into a relieved laugh. Emmaline is on your hip in a green, white, and red striped elf costume, complete with a pointed hat, jingle bell dangling from the top. “Morning.” You smile, and so does the baby. “Santa’s elf wanted to surprise you.” You’re still a little sleepy, eyes tired, and he does a double take when he realizes you’re in your underwear and one of his t shirts. 

“I’m… surprised.” Bloody hell. His brain isn’t working, his mouth rendering him stupid, still caught in fight or flight, and your lips subtly twist before your eyes soften, realization soft across your features. 

“Are you okay?” You question, and he nods, not trusting himself to not say something else moronic, flailing in the silence, failing. It’s been weeks since he’s felt like this, inept, clumsy, senseless, too easily settled into a life with you after that pipe burst in your flat and practically delivered him a holiday miracle, a treasure deposited right into his lap. “Here,” you push Emma into his arms, soft fingers over top his as you hand her off, looking up at him with that level trust, adoration that you’re always providing him, in your eyes. Just holding Emmaline settles the anxiety in his heart, soothes the raw buzzing that’s tearing through his head, and you smile, butting your head into his shoulder and placing a kiss there. “Will you take her while I get dressed?” 

“Yeah.” He croaks, as you squeeze his forearm, turning away. “Sweetheart,” he calls, stopping you in your tracks. He wants to tell you he thinks he loves you; he thinks he’d die without you; he thinks you’re the greatest thing he’s ever had, ever held, thinks you saved him, but nothing comes out. You hold his gaze for a second, and then two, before whispering.

“I know… me too.” Of course you do. You pause, cocking your head. “Could you make some coffee? Gonna be a long day.” You raise an eyebrow towards the Christmas tree, where all of Emma’s gifts sit perfectly arranged, and he nods. He can do that.

“Just three scoops of this,” he tells Emma, portioning out the coffee into the filter as she babbles at him from her perch in his other arm. “Mama likes it pretty strong, doesn’t she? And then some water, like this.” He pours the pitcher into the machine’s reservoir, flicking on the power and listening to the gurgle as he makes his way to the couch. He bounces Emma on his knee, little hands waving in the air, trying to grab the end of her hat and gnaw on it. The tree sparkles behind her, lights and ornaments all aglow, and she giggles when she tips herself forward, planting onto his chest with both hands. “Easy, baby girl.” Rolling onto her back in the crook of his arm, she squirms, smiling up at him, finger extended towards his chin. “What is it, eh?” He leans, and she pokes his cheek, cooing with a satisfied grunt. She fits so naturally in his side, just like you do, and he settles into the cushions, relaxing, allowing her to explore, tactile touch padding across his face, little fingernails scratching at his stubble.

“You two look cozy.” You murmur with a yawn, cup of coffee steaming in your palms. He smiles, and Emma lifts her head to look for you, tracking the sound of your voice. You perch at his other side, knees tucking up next to his hip, nestling your head against his shoulder, fingers tracing Emmaline’s cheek. “Whatcha doing sweet pea?” He brushes a kiss across the top of your head, and you sigh, arm wrapping around his stomach. "This is nice."

"It is." He agrees. It's more than nice, it's everything. Everything he didn't know was possible, everything he didn't know he wanted. It's nice, spending Christmas with his girls, cuddled up together on his couch in front of a Christmas tree that's loaded with presents for the baby. A Christmas, the holiday he used to shun… now brought back to life by you. Nice is a good word to describe it, but others flit through his mind as well: perfect, redeeming, salvation.

Purpose.

He takes a ragged breath, and you lean back to look at him, waiting.

"It's more than nice, sweetheart, it's... I... never thought, never dreamed this could happen in my life. You and Emmaline, you're... everything to me." He pauses, cradling your face, watching how your eyes shimmer with unshed tears. "I want," he swallows the lump in his throat. "I want you to stay. I want you to be here. Always." He needs you to stay, needs you like he needs air to breathe, needs you like he's never needed, never wanted, anything before in his life. He'd give you the world, if he could, wrap it up nicely and put it beneath the tree, but he doesn't know how to say that, how to explain.

He's grateful he doesn't have to.

"I'll be here, Simon. I'll be right here. With you." You take his hand, clutching onto him tightly. It's selfish, what he wants. Stupid. But he's not a good man... he's yours, and he'll be as wicked, as awful as he must to keep you and Emmaline safe. You're the only good thing about him now, and he'd dig himself free from a shallow grave all over again, just to crawl home to you. You've changed him, deeply. Fundamentally. Taught him the truth of love, of healing, your grief not so much different from his own, and he knows he'd die for you, he'd die for you ten thousand times.

Emmaline babbles at the sound of your voice, and you smile at her, not bothering to wipe away the tear that tracks down your cheek. "We're here. We'll stay. As long as you want us."

And christ, if that isn't the best Christmas gift he's ever be given.

[luveline]

Gah, your Peter Parker leaves me sighing in the best way every time! If you feel like it, could you write a little blurb of him melting from fondness when reader gets bashful following him doing/saying something soft? It’s so sweet, seeing two people mutually melt around and because of each other. Even when it’s the smallest thing, it means so much more when it’s from one of YOUR important people.

ty for your request! <3 fem

Fuck, Peter Parker thinks, jogging up the steps to your apartment building, this is the life. It’s a hot day in New York City but there are cold drinks to be had and that electric fan in your bedroom is calling his name. There’s genuinely no better place to be than laying on your sheets in pyjamas you wash with that apple blossom laundry softener he loves, knowing you keep using it ‘cos you love it, and knowing you wash his pyjamas because you love him. 

Spidering is going well, he saved a kid today who nearly got crushed by a ten tonner, so he’s feeling pretty good about himself, or at least feeling good about his decisions. He made Aunt May lunch and took it down to the hospital, he flirted gently with the older nurses, and now he’s gunning up the stairs to your apartment, every step a crinkle. 

Your door is wide open (awful) but you have good reason —the floors and the countertops shine. The windows are open, and the room is fragrant with your oil diffuser. You’re on your knees by the TV wiping down the table with a damp rag in loose-fitting clothes, sleeves pushed up, brows puckered. 

“Hey, baby,” he says. 

“Peter, I’m not talking to you today.” 

“Why’s that?” 

“You know how many pairs of your socks I found when I was cleaning today?” 

He grimaces. “Two?” 

“Nine pairs of socks, Peter.” 

He puts the flowers he’s brought you down on the coffee table and his back on the floor. He’d been hoping to do a grand unveiling of the bouquet to surprise you, but he feels terrible. “I don’t even know how that happens,” he mumbles dejectedly, kneeling down behind you, his arms threading in front of your tummy to give you a backwards squeeze. “They just disappear.” 

“They don’t, evidently.” 

“I’m really sorry.” He kisses your cheek. “I’m genuinely really sorry. That’s sloppy. I’m not a kid.” 

“No, you’re not… I’m not that mad though, you don’t have to sound so serious.” 

He holds the place just under your breastbone in his hands. “Oh, you’re not?” He tugs you to his front to stop you from moving prematurely and reaches blindly behind him for the flowers. You laugh as he tips back, taking you with him, the sound vibrating through you and into him. “That’s good. Don’t need these then, do we?” 

He twirls the bouquet, pressing it carefully to your chest. 

You immediately relax in his arms. He treasures that feeling, your weight leaning against him, your cheek listing down into his arm. You raise a hand, his arm trapped in the crook of your elbow as you examine the lilac petal of a sweetpea. “I love these ones.” 

“I know.” 

You take more time than anyone else would sifting through the flowers of the bouquet, breath the only evidence of your delight. You breathe out slowly whenever one of the flowers is particularly beautiful, and then you hug the bunch to your nose for a mild sniff. 

“Thank you.” 

Peter kisses your cheek. He savours the feeling of it, your skin under his lips, being that close to you, his hair on your forehead and your eyebrow tickling him as he hugs you just that little bit closer. “You’re welcome,” he murmurs, affection in every word, and a little drop of shyness too, “I was thinking of you, and they looked healthy for once, considering they’re off of the corner by Mandy’s.” 

“They’re so pretty,” you mumble, turning into him as much as you can. He lets up his tight hold. 

“Like you.” 

You brush your forehead against his chin. Peter actually gets goosebumps, letting the flowers fall to the floor by your leg so he can hold you. “I feel bad for caring about the socks now,” you mumble. 

He laughs with lips still closed and offers you a soft kiss. 

[thexsilentxwordsmith]

Dad!Simon Riley x Fem!reader

Simon Riley: Girl Dad

From the request here ; pic screenshot from this video

“Can I come in now?” you ask, popping your head into the nursery as Simon finishes getting your 3 month old daughter Anna ready for the day. 

She wriggles in his grasp, babbling away as he mutters in a hushed tone to her about keeping still for daddy.

"Ya think this is funny yeah," he teases her, tickling her chubby tummy before trying to wrangle one of her legs in his grasp.

It’s like music to his soul the way the happy talking sounds she makes touches his heart and it only makes him want to do whatever he can so that she will keep making them for him. That’s why it always takes longer than usual to get her dressed when he does it.

You crane your neck trying to sneak a peak, but his voice stops you. “Not yet,” he says and moves his body to block your view. 

He doesn’t want you to see before he’s ready. The outfit is one he picked up the other night on a whim, the moment he saw it he knew Anna had to have it for today, and he wants to get it all on to give the full effect. He finishes straightening her up and tucks her body sitting up in the crook of his arm. She is content as can be being snuggled at the side of his chest, happily clapping her little hands together as they turn to face you. 

“Well?” he asks, brow furrowed and body slightly tense as he waits for your critique. “How'd we do?”

You match your daughter’s vibrant smile as you see the outfit Simon’s bought all on his own: a bright yellow corduroy romper with frill capped sleeves, little socks with suns on them, and a big yellow bow to match. Your heart swells full of emotion at the sight; it’s just an outfit, sure, but it really means so much more than the sum of its parts. You know just how far Simon has come in his journey with her and it truly warms your heart to see him so smitten with the little babe this way.  

When she first came home, there wasn’t a moment when Simon wasn’t on edge around her, nervous that somehow, someway, he would end up hurting her. She seemed so small to him in those first days, so incredibly delicate as she lay sleeping in her bassinet like the most perfect doll, that he was certain that someone as rough around the edges as him would never be able to be near her without breaking her and that was something he was not willing to risk.

She is his gift, his light, a treasure that came from out of all the years of heartache and hardship and he would never let anything bad ever happen to her.

It took some time and a lot of encouragement on your part, but finally Simon found his confidence and never looked back. Any chance now that he can get he is holding her, changing her, feeding her; anything and everything he can do to show her his love by his actions alone. And whether he gives himself the credit for it or not, he is doing a marvelous job.

“How did I know you'd choose something yellow?” you laugh as Simon glares at you, trying not to crack that fake tough facade. 

It is becoming a pattern for him to choose yellow things when it comes to Anna. When she came home from the hospital a few months ago in that yellow onesie, it was like a flip and been switched and that was it; that was her hue from then on. It is strange, Simon never really had a favorite color before that special day and then suddenly yellow was never the same. Now he cannot imagine his life without it.

His face breaks into a smile as he shakes his head, not ready to admit that he is becoming predictable. “Come on, did I do it right or not? Just want to be sure it looks fine on her. We got a big day and I want it ta be perfect.”

Your face brightens as you look her over again. “She looks adorable, Simon,” you reply cheerfully. “You did good, baby. I think you’re really getting the hang of this dad thing.”

Looking down at her in his grasp, he beams with a sense of accomplishment and his tense shoulders ease. Parenting is not something Simon ever thought he could be good at, he never thought he would be the one with the chance at having a family, but each day he is making strides in the right direction to becoming the dad he desperately wants to be.  

“Are you sure you’ll be okay on your own today?” you ask as you watch Simon place a delicate kiss to the top of Anna’s small, wispy-haired head. “Cause I can stay if you need me to. All I gotta do is make a call and let them know I can’t go.”

Simon shakes his head and reaches for you with his free arm, pulling you by the wrist until you step close enough that he can wrap his arm around your hip to pull you against him opposite your daughter. “Ya worry too damn much, sweetheart,” he says as his hand finds your cheek, his thumb stroking across the soft skin before he is leaning his face in towards yours. 

His full lips catch you in their tender embrace, a kiss that is full of emotion, and in an instant your eyes flutter closed as you relinquish yourself to him. You let all those worries fall away as the gentle touch of his lips, the heat from his breath, the passion flowing through his kiss calms your mind. He conveys so much without ever speaking a single word and in a flash you are put at ease.

Slowly he breaks away, already missing your taste the moment your lips part. Eyes still shut, he rests his forehead against yours, rocking all three of you back and forth a moment as he enjoys the feeling of having his entire life resting comfortably in his arms. You both open your eyes after a time and look down at Anna babbling away to herself, before looking back at each other. This is all still new and unchartered territory, so the both of you are working to figure it all out, but so far it has been anything except bad. 

“I promise, I got ‘er. We’re gonna be just fine,” he says quietly. “Isn’t that right, princess?”

At the sound of his voice Anna turns her face to find his and it lights up as it always does whenever her favorite person talks to her. She even employs her recently-learned skill of giggling happily to punctuate that she agrees with whatever it was she was just asked, even though she doesn’t understand a word of it.  

Simon kisses your forehead to be sure the worry is completely gone. “It’s just a couple hours on base and then we’ll be home the rest of tha day,” he says. “Besides, might be nice to show her off to the guys. She does look real pretty today.” 

“That she does,” you agree as you quickly check the clock on your phone and with a kiss to your baby and one more for Simon you are gone, leaving the pair alone.

Simon gets to work double checking everything in his backpack that he has to bring for her: extra diapers, wipes, bottles, toys, anything he could need while he is out. It’s in his nature, years of military training has come in handy as he is prepared for it all. Satisfied, he turns back to the baby at his side. “Alright princess,” he says, “ready to go see where your dad spends all his time when he ain’t at home?”

The moment he’s walking on base, black backpack filled with essentials strapped to his back, tiny baby girl dressed in bright clothes tucked in his arms, he’s drawing curious stares from everyone he passes. This is the first time she has gone to base with him, so of course people are going to be inquisitive about things. How can they not? Simon looks like… well, Simon: intense, stoic, intimidating. Even in just his black t-shirt and jeans, with his lightweight balaclava on, he is still an imposing figure. Never one to be shy per se, Simon still does not like the attention on him, but since he is with his little angel he doesn’t care. He is proud to show off the best damn thing he has ever helped to create.

The contrast between him and his daughter he knows is jarring and Simon laughs to himself at how absurd this must look for someone like him with such a coarse demeanor to be handling such a precious, sweet thing. Who would have thought that the scary skull-masked military officer would have a family of his own? It is a shock he is sure. 

“Seems we’re gonna be the talk ‘round ‘ere today, princess,” he says as he looks down at Anna, secure in his grasp as they continue on towards his office.

She is too busy looking everywhere her little head can turn to be bothered by anything. Being out and about with her father, seeing things she’s never seen before, which is pretty much everything, has her interested and engaged with the sights around her. Those small brown eyes, the ones that are a carbon copy of his, stare on as she silently takes everything in.

He makes it to his office and gets set up, grabbing everything that he needs in one tight spot as he sits Anna up in his lap with a toy for her to play with. She is content for a while as he goes through paperwork, occasionally he gives her a tickle or readjusts her on his thigh, something to show that he hasn’t forgotten she’s there with him. 

Barely an hour has passed before Anna begins to whine and fuss and Simon knows what that means: she’s hungry. He grabs the prepped bottle out of the bag and walks to the small microwave in the corner of the room, warming it and testing it on his wrist before he moves back to his desk and sits back down in his chair, cradling her in his arms against his chest as he places the nipple of the bottle in her mouth.

“There ya are, luv,” he comforts her until she settles into him, “I gotcha. Daddy didn’t forget.”

Unknown to Simon, there is an unexpected guest that has just appeared near his office door, though before the person can even knock to announce themselves, they are caught by surprise at the sight before them. Johnny, who’s come to deliver something from Price, stops right in his tracks and stares at the scene before him.

He stands there, watching as Simon tenderly holds this little infant in his arms, quietly rocking back and forth as she drinks her bottle. Every now and again he speaks to her softly, the skin around his eyes tightening to indicate there is a smile underneath the mask. There is an ease to his movements as if he knows exactly what he is doing and it genuinely shocks the young sergeant. Who could have ever guessed that this would be something Simon would be such a natural at?

As Anna is finishing the bottle, Simon looks up as he feels a pair of eyes on him to see Johnny standing there, obscured by the doorframe, silently watching. He sets the empty bottle down on his desk and moves Anna to sit upright on his thigh, leaning her against the crook of his arm so that he can pat and rub her back until she burps. 

“Can I help ya, Mactavish?” Simon’s distinct voice calls out, catching Johnny off-guard as he realizes he’s been caught staring.

“Sorry, L.T.” Johnny stutters out as he hurriedly steps inside the office, remembering why he is here in the first place, and sets some papers upon his desk. “Price sent these; says he needs ya to look ‘em over.”

Simon nods in understanding, his hand still rubbing the baby’s back. “Will do,” he agrees, thinking this will be the end of the interaction, but Johnny still lingers. “Anything else?”

“I heard ‘round base that ya had your little one here today. Had to come see if it was true fer myself,” Johnny admits with guilt. 

“Well, ya could meet ‘er if ya like, ‘stead a standin’ there just starin’.”  Simon nods his head down at the baby. “Johnny, this is Anna.”

The sergeant observes her as she begins to coo, her eyes catching the tattoos along Simon’s muscular arm, her petite fingers tapping and poking along the lines and patterns with delight as she loves to do when he holds her like this. She’s so engrossed that she hasn’t realized there is another person in the room yet.

Johnny clears his throat. “Didn’t mean ta stare, ya know. It’s just a surprise ta see she’s actually real, I guess.”

The original members of the 141 know about Anna, it wasn’t something that Simon could hide once she was about to make her way into the world, but it’s a bit jarring for the Scot to see someone that he had previously known to be so toughened by the world change so drastically. Anyone who gets close enough can see it in the lieutenant’s soft gaze: he adores the little girl and that is… interesting, to say the least.

Simon chuckles at the clear surprise in Johnny’s voice as Anna is still playing with his arm. “Bit absurd, innit Johnny?” he questions while watching her with a prideful twinkle in those brown eyes as she giggles. “Me with a kid? Doesn’t seem possible, does it?” 

“Ya seem a natural ta me,” the Scot admits in awe of how easily he makes it seem, as if he was given some secret knowledge that made him know exactly what to do and how to do it. “Then again I don’t know the first thing ‘bout babies. Wouldn’t even know where ta start.”

Simon is reminded about how when he first found out he was going to be a dad he had started reading all the books, researching all the things like a good, capable soldier would, but how all of that prep was nothing in the end as the moment she came into the world everything was turned on its head. It’s not like in the books, it’s so much better and it is days like today that make it worth all the worry and fear and anxiety he had to break through to get here.

“Easier than ya think,” Simon replies with a chuckle as he moves Anna around facing forward now. “Once ya get the hang of it.”

“Don’t tell my girl that,” Johnny laughs back. “Can’t afford one right now.”

Anna’s attention is stirred away from Simon’s tattoos and towards the other man standing in the room with them. She looks up at Johnny in awe, not having much experience with others outside of Simon and you, but Johnny shoots her his classic smile and he has her giggling again in a flash. 

“Well hey there Anna, nice ta meet ya,” he introduces himself before turning back to Simon. “I think she likes me.”

“It's your hair she's eyein’,” Simon points out, following her eye line.

Sure enough as soon as Johnny runs his hands over the mohawk cut into his hair her eyes light up. “Can she touch it?” he asks Simon and he nods in agreement.

Johnny falls to one knee in front of the little girl, leans his head down, and lets her put her hand in it. Her short, chubby fingers pull the strands as she laughs, the short, spiky pieces pricking her fingertips. She pulls away quickly before bringing her hand back in again, a sort of game that she repeats a few more times before Johnny gets back to his feet. 

“He’s a funny one, ain’t he, princess?” Simon questions his little one as he strokes his thumb around the smile that fills her tiny, round cheeks. “Ya like him, yeah?”

She coos, her little lips forming an ‘o’ so that she sounds like a dove. That’s the closest to a yes as they are going to get. 

“I sure ‘ope ya do, seein’ as I’m your dad’s best friend,” Johnny picks, looking to Simon to see his reaction. 

He rolls his eyes at the statement, but stays silent and doesn’t correct him. Instead Simon opts to end the conversation there, needing to get finished here anyway so that he can get back home. As much as Johnny’s company isn’t as grating as it first was, he is ready to spend some alone time with the baby before you get back. “Well, if ya don’t mind, I need to get back to it. Say goodbye Anna.”

Johnny agrees, though his mouth twitches like he wants to ask a question, but ultimately decides not to ask it in the end. He turns to leave, but Simon guesses at what he is wanting and calls out behind him so that he stops. 

“And ya can tell the others they can come see ‘er if they want,” Simon assures, “I know they’re probably itchin’ to get a glimpse of her too. That’s why they sent ya, yeah? See if I was up for company?”

Johnny turns around and nods his head. Fuck, they’ve been caught. “Will do, L.T.” he says. “Can ya blame us though? She’s pretty damn cute.”

And with that he turns back around. As Johnny leaves the office with the sounds of Simon and Anna at his back, he can’t help but smile to himself at seeing his friend finally have a bit of happiness; if anyone deserves it, it is Simon. Wait till the others see just how much things around here are going to change.

[chuluoyi]

✎ treasure

- gojo satoru x reader

the strongest sorcerer meets his match in his petulant son, who inherits his six eyes and is having trouble with them

genre: taking care of your son with dad!gojo, fluff/comfort

note: AAAA i love this waaay too much!😭 this brilliant idea gave me baby fever so bad came from an anon who so energetically dropped by my askbox, thank you! and seeing this artwork by Yoon in twitter definitely gave me more ideas too!

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

"No!"

"Why? This helps—"

"That's ugly! I don't want to look ugly—like you!"

Satoru blinked in utter disbelief, and you broke into the most satisfying fits of laughter. In front of him, standing tall and sullen and very much like him was his own son, now barely five years old.

Your boy mentioned that he had been experiencing discomfort in his eyes lately, which also caused him to become dizzy. And Satoru attempted to persuade him to use a blindfold like he did because it was effective.

However, as we can see, his son didn't take his suggestion well at all. His bright blue eyes, ones your husband passed down, bore an intense glare aimed squarely at him.

"I..." Satoru sputtered, his eyes twitching. The sight was comical as no one had ever managed to elicit such a reaction from him. And no one ever considered him an unattractive person too! "I'm not—"

"You are!"

Once again, you let out a triumphant cackle, and this time your husband shot you a glare. But you didn't care. All those years of tolerating his antics had paid off. His son had finally put him in his place!

When he was a baby, you thought your son was Gojo Satoru incarnate. He was the spitting image of him—with all gaits and expressions too. And you had worried if he would turn out to be just as much of a menace as he was.

But apparently, life has other sweet plans because like you, he was a relatively calm boy, diligent, and didn't like to make a fuss. Satoru argued that it was definitely in his genes—claiming he had also been a sweetheart when he was a child, but you couldn't quite imagine him being remotely as reserved as your son.

That aside, the cause of this hilarious exchange did actually make you worry a bit.

"Look, I know it probably looks odd," Satoru gestured at the blindfold in his hand, but your little boy still didn't seem convinced by the pout he displayed. "But it will help you, I promise. If only you would—"

Oh, but it was almost like karma because besides his appearance, the other trait your son inherited from your husband was his strong sense of winning.

His face reddened from sheer indignation, and he once again screamed, "I don't want to! I'll just cover my eyes with—" he took a nearby napkin and pulled them over his eyes, "—this!"

Satoru sighed in annoyance, and you decided to jump in. Crouching down next to him, you gently pried the napkin from his hand.

"Papa just wants to help you, okay?" you reasoned, cupping his plump cheeks. Gods, he used to be this round thing in your and Satoru's arms and now he was already this big. "He uses it everyday and he has no problems, see?"

"But it doesn't look good..." Your son drooped his head in disappointment, and you could feel Satoru rolling his eyes beside you, evidently miffed at the thought of him being less than good-looking.

Parenting is challenging, especially when your husband still holds onto some of his childlike tendencies. So you decided to end the discussion here.

It was later at noon, while you were in the kitchen preparing lunch when you heard your son's scream and something crashing. Your heart was in your throat as you rushed to the backyard, only to see something that made your heart lurch even more.

Your sweet boy was wailing on the ground, clutching his head, and Satoru—

His expression was as horrified as yours if not more, as he ran and caught your son in his arms, pressing him tightly against his chest as if shielding him from the sun altogether. "Shit. Hey, hey—buddy, you okay?”

Satoru lifted him up and carried him inside. You were right beside him as he settled on the sofa, gently hushing your son, who was still shaking and had his eyes covered against his chest.

"M-My head..." your son whimpered, tears streaming down his chubby cheeks. "...h-hurts..."

"It's okay, it's okay..." he murmured, caressing the child's hair in a soothing manner, and it reminded you so much of what he would do to you in the early mornings. "I've got you now, nothing’s going to happen to you. Hang on a little longer, yeah?"

You felt warm tears threatening to well up in your eyes at the sight. It was heart-wrenching to see your son in such torment, and the way your husband was consoling him deeply touched you. It served as a poignant reminder of just how many years had passed from when Gojo Satoru was still that brat who used to mess with you during high school.

Soon, your little boy's breathing became even, and he went to sleep in Satoru's comforting embrace.

You looked at him while biting your lip, undiluted worry in your voice. "What should we do? He's been experiencing pain often lately..."

Satoru really wanted to wipe that expression from your face, but with his precious child clinging onto him for dear life, even he didn't have the heart to.

"Don't worry, I'll be with him," he assured, a plan already forming in his mind. "If he hates blindfolds that much, then I'll get him some pairs of glasses just like the ones I have—for kids. We'll start with that."

Bearing the weight of his clan's revered eyes was a heavy burden, and honestly, he would prefer it if none of his children had to inherit them. After all, he went through it all too as a child—the manifestation of the six eyes' powers marks the beginning of life as a sorcerer. The perilous world he was still trying to keep away from his son.

Nonetheless, he would be there for him every step of the way. It was what he vowed to himself on the day he was born. He wouldn’t let anything befall him—or you.

You had calmed down after hearing his plan, and as you gazed at your precious boy’s innocent face in his protective grip and the gentle pats he gave him, you suddenly found yourself in a mischievous mood once again.

"Heh, quite the doting papa, aren't you, Satoru?" you winked, a teasing smile on your face. You could have sworn his cheeks slightly flushed as he retorted:

"Hmph. He is my personal little body warmer, after all."

[gigi-loveless]

Hiii is it alright if I request for a College!Camgirl!Ellie x college!reader? Could I also have a specific 💐 tag for when I ask things 😭😭?

PS: I love your work so fucking much, on my knees for them 💗🙏🏻

-💐

જ⁀➴ yes angel!! thank you <3 sorry this took so long btw!! lowkey had a bender over spring break and didn’t write 🫣

warnings: 18+, squirting, pet names, service top!ellie, camgirl!ellie, consensual video recording. photo credits to @ellies.galaxy on tiktok!

reqs are open 𝜗𝜚

────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────

“you can take it baby. know my girl can.” the auburn haired girl whispered, while guiding your hips to sink fully down on her brand new strap on that sits erect on her pale lap. the aforementioned 8 inch, lavender toy was generously gifted by one of her followers, with a message attached that simply said “to break her in.”

since moving in with ellie, you’ve gradually learned so much about her….possibly more than a roommate should. first, it was her adorable obsession with vintage video games, then the way she brings home little rocks and treasures she finds on the walk to class, then…it was finding her nude in front of a camera with your “missing” thong smothering her face.

but, you couldn’t possibly resist helping her, huh?

the video garnered tons, TONS of donations, likes, and subscriptions. her followers loved that it wasn’t a staged “getting caught” cliche, and that you fully indulged in her perverse energy. since then, she’s gotten lots of requests to keep you around in her videos, which you are more than happy to oblige.

the tip nudges against your cervix, a soft bulge appearing on your abdomen. as she shifts to zoom in on the precious sight, your long forgotten homework falls off the bed, papers sliding all across the floor.

“y’see that? how she’s fuckin swallowing me?” ellie asks the camera as she zooms in on the aforementioned “she”, being your fully stuffed cunt.

“els…please move….” you pant, digging your fingernails into her thighs as an anchor. “i…i’ll do….any-thng…” you whine desperately, dying to just rut into ellie’s hips on your own, but you know better. the first (and last) time you made that mistake, she tied you up with the vibrator on the highest setting for two hours, live-streaming the whole ordeal.

hey, at least she made over $500 off of it.

“show em how you feel, angel.” ellie coos, thrusting in and out agonizingly slow, propping the camera up on her dresser, the perfect angle to capture your doe eyes rolling effortlessly into the back of your head.

“els….ohmgd…please harder!”

without a word, ellie gets the most intriguing smirk on her face, massaging her calloused fingers into your hips for a moment….then suddenly gripping onto them, bouncing you on her cock unrelentingly. screaming her name, your legs go numb. every time your trembling hands go to grip onto her waist for support, she nudges you off, growing wetter and wetter watching you unable to stabilize yourself. a thin white ring forms around the base of her cock, that she scrambles to grab the camera and zoom in on.

“look at that…fuck.” she reaches down and thumbs on your clit, causing you to buck down into her even harder, if that’s possible at this point.

“gna…gna cum els….pleaseee…” you stare right into the camera, knowing that she’s gonna replay that moment over and over again later just to see the pathetic desperation in your eyes, your perfect pout penetrating her every thought.

“go ahead angel, cum all over this cock. show me how good it feels in you. how….how…god…how good i feel in you.”

those last words send you over the edge, collapsing into her while your entire body twitches. your tight, slick walls clench around the toy for the final time, her thumb on your clit encouraging you to drench ellie’s stomach and sheets.

“fuck…i got that shit on camera. you’re so goddamn hot.” she pans the camera down to her toned stomach, where your wetness is splattered. the euphoria hasn’t worn off yet, your eyelids heavy, vision blurry as ellie smooths down your hair delicately, throwing the camera onto her chair and cradling your head into her lap.

“such a good girl f’me…..”

[the-fiction-witch]

Would you want to marry me Benji?

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Benjicot Blackwood Couple - Benjicot X Reader Reader - (OC) Y/n Mason (Misc house) Rating - Cute Word Count - 2237

Writer notes - I have not yet seen S2 I am going to watch it when all Episodes are out to the public. but he was requested so so much I have Wikied Him, I have done research I have watched the scene. But this is my first Benjicot Fic, I haven't seen the show yet, so Please I beg. Be kind to me. 

Y/n sat cradled by the roots of house Blackwood's fabled weirwood heart tree, shaded from the autumn sun by the busses of red leaves grown in for the long cool winter, She wore a gown of deep grey with red and black accents, her dark curls in a long intricate braid down her back littered with leaves made from copper as jewellery, a matching copper locket around her neck, She hums a soft and gentle tune a bundle of cloth in her lap as she slowly embroiders

A soft smile crossed Benjicot's face when he sees her there, He slowly approached her, his boots crunching on the leaves. "Y/n," Benjicot said softly. "What are you doing out here all alone?"

"Enjoying the afternoon is all my lord," she answered sweetly,

"Are you not lonely, all alone by this tree? Would you not like some company?" Benjicot said with a grin on his face, sitting down beside her against the roots,

"I'm never lonely my lord, with the gods to keep an eye on me" she smiled glancing at the tree-carved face, "but I suppose company wouldn't be ill wanted,"

Benjicot gave a hum in agreement, looking up at the Weirwood as well, before shifting his gaze back to her. "I'm sure the gods are a wonderful company, but they cannot offer you witty banter."

"I suppose not my lord" she nodded,

"Then I can consider my presence a blessing from the gods themselves," Benjicot said with a hint of mischief in his eyes. He leaned closer to her, his arm brushing against hers.

"Absolutely my lord" she agreed,

Benjicot chuckled, enjoying the feeling of her being so close to him. He was quiet for a moment, their shoulders touching, before speaking again. "What are you embroidering?" He asked, peering at the bundle of cloth in her lap.

"A gift, my elder sister sent a raven to me this morning. She is with child, I wanted to make a her a gift for the babe,"

"That's wonderful," Benjicot said, a warm smile on his face. "A gift is a thoughtful gesture, I'm sure she'll appreciate it greatly." He leaned closer to her, inspecting the embroidered cloth more closely. "What are you making for her?"

"a swaddle and blanket for the baby, I've already picked the softest fabric and now I'm embroidering it, with the heraldry of the houses coming together, so the babe may know of his history, this traditional,"

Benjicot looked impressed and he nodded approvingly at her project. "That's a beautiful idea," he said, his eyes wandering over the embroidery design. "I'm sure it will be treasured by your sister and her child." He shifted even closer to her, their thighs now touching, enjoying the intimacy of their closeness.

"I'm sure she will, my mother keeps threatening to make me a wedding gown," she chuckled,

Benjicot chuckled as well, amused by the thought of her in a wedding gown. "And what do you say to that?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at her. "Do you plan on getting married soon?"

"I have nothing to say, I have very little say in it," she chuckled, "My father will make a match and I shall marry him, such is the way of things my lord," she explained,

Benjicot's smile faltered slightly at her words. "You don't mind having no say in something so important as your future husband?" He shifted his body so that he was facing her fully, his eyes studying her features intently.

"Such is the way," she shrugged, "for my sister's, for my mother, and her mother and her mother and so on,"

Benjicot furrowed his brow, not satisfied with her answer. "But what if you don't like this theoretical husband your father picks? Or what if he's cruel? Or unfaithful?"

"I shall have to do my duty," she said sadly,

Benjicot's expression softened and he reached out to gently brush some of her hair off her shoulder, his fingers lingering on the soft skin of her neck for a moment. "You deserve better than a future arranged solely out of duty, Y/n."

"thank you, my lord, but I suppose it's only a matter of time. My sisters are all wedded and now all either with children or have them. I don't imagine Father will leave me unmarried for much longer"

Benjicot's hand dropped from her neck, his gaze darkening at her words. The thought of her being married off to some faceless stranger left a bitter taste in his mouth. "No offence to your father, but I think he might be blind if he doesn't at least consider me a blackwood as a potential suitor," he said, his tone light but with a hint of seriousness.

she chuckled "I'm sure he considers your family my lord,"

Benjicot smiled at her reaction, glad to make her laugh. He shifted his position, his knee brushing against hers under the fabric of her skirt. "Then I pray that my family is considered highly in his estimation," he said with a grin. "For your sake, of course."

"Why? Would you want to marry me Benji?" She teased,

Benjicot chuckled softly, enjoying the sound of his name on her lips. "And why wouldn't I want to marry you? You're beautiful, clever, kind..." He leaned in a little closer to her, his voice dropping to a softer tone. "It could be a match made by the gods themselves."

she giggled, "That's too sweet of you my lord,"

Benjicot's grin widened at her giggle. "Only speaking the truth." He looked into her eyes, his own gaze warm and affectionate. "In all seriousness, Y/n," he said, his voice low and serious now, "the thought of you being married off to some man who treats you with anything less than respect and kindness... It does not sit with me well."

"no?"

Benjicot shook his head. "No." For a moment he was silent, his expression soft as he looked at her face, taking her in. "I don't wish to see you given to someone who doesn't deserve you," he said quietly. "You deserve someone who treats you well, who respects you and makes you happy. That's how it should be, for someone like you."

"And whom would you suggest?"

Benjicot raised his eyebrow at her question, his expression suddenly amused. "Oh, I don't know," he began, feigning ignorance. "Maybe me?" His tone was light, but the suggestion was serious. Benjicot looked into her eyes, waiting to see her reaction.

She blushed "... I would like that, but it's not up to me whom I marry,"

Benjicot reached out, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Perhaps I could help you change that," he said softly, a spark of determination in his eyes. Benjicot leaned closer to her, his arm now resting on the ground near her hip, his body angled towards hers. "What if you did not have to marry whomever your father chooses?" he asked, his voice low and serious. "What if you could marry me instead?"

"I'd like that very much,"

Benjicot felt his heart swell with relief and joy at her words. A gentle smile spread across his face and he reached out to brush a knuckle against her cheek. "Then I will try to make it happen," he promised, his voice suddenly filled with determination. "I will go to your father and request your hand. I won't let anyone else have you." Benjicot beamed at her. The mere thought of making her his bride had filled him with a sense of joy and contentment that he had never felt before. "You should prepare yourself to have the most obnoxiously devoted husband in the realm," he said with a grin. "I plan on spoiling you rotten, my dear."

"I have no doubt my lord," she nodded, "Are you to see him now?"

Benjicot nodded. "I'll seek your father out, speak to him about this, and hopefully he'll give his blessing." He got to his feet, looking down at her with a slightly anxious expression. "Wish me luck," he said, grinning.

She nodded getting to her feet and taking his hand in hers standing on her tip toes to press a tender kiss to his forehead, "Good luck Benji,"

Benjicot felt his heart skip a beat at the feeling of her soft lips on his forehead. He reached up to touch the place where she had kissed him as if to prolong the sensation. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, looking into her eyes. "I won't be long. Wait here for me?"

"I will I promise," she nodded, "And last I saw him he was in the courtyard," She smiled doing her best to help him seek out her father,

Benjicot felt strangely calm, but still nervous despite himself. He wanted her father's blessing, he wanted her. "Thank you, Y/n," he said with an affectionate smile. "I'll see you soon." With that, he turned and walked off towards the courtyard.

When arriving at the courtyard he found the place busy as usual, and Y/n's father lord Mason sharpening his sword with the blacksmith, Benjicot approached the man, taking a deep breath and preparing himself for the conversation to come. He stopped a few feet away, clearing his throat to get the lord's attention. "Lord Mason?" he said politely.

He glanced up glancing at the young lord before returning focus to his blade, "Lord Blackwood, to what do I owe this visit?"

Benjicot swallowed back his nerves and stood up a little straighter. "I came to talk with you about your daughter Y/n," he said, hoping his voice didn't shake.

"Y/n? ... Y/n..." Her father pondered, "Ahh short one? Curls like mulberry stem? And tits like a river lands milkman?" That one?"

Benjicot couldn't help the faint flush that crept up his cheeks. "Ah, yes," he said, his voice going a little higher than he would have liked. "That one."

"AHH, do forgive me, my lord. Six daughters hard to keep them straight" Benjicot chuckled at that, the tension in his shoulders relaxing slightly.

"Understandable, my lord. It is quite a large family, after all."

"so? What about her?"

Benjicot took a deep breath and met the lord's gaze. "I've come to request your blessing," he said evenly. "I wish to ask for Y/n's hand in marriage."

"marriage?" He chuckled "You sure? I have two more unmarried daughters you are welcome to take your pick of them,"

Benjicot's eyes darkened slightly at the lord's words. "With all due respect, my lord," he said, "I do not want any of your daughters but Y/n. She is the one I wish to marry."

"you like the tits?" He joked,

Benjicot's face reddened even further, but he held steady. "With all due respect, my lord, your daughter is more than just... tits," he said firmly. "She is witty and kind and beautiful, and I would be honoured to call her my wife."

"... Alright, you marry her, You make her lady blackwood, and you give her children. That a deal?"

Benjicot felt a wave of relief wash over him, followed immediately by a pang of anxiety. This was really happening. "Yes, my lord," he said, his voice steady. "I will marry her, make her lady Blackwood, and give her children. I swear it on my honour."

"then you have my permission to wed her," he nodded returning focus to his sword,

Benjicot felt as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. A wide grin broke out on his face as he bowed his head in gratitude. "Thank you, my lord. You won't regret this, I swear." Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked away, practically jogging back to the Weirwood tree where he had left Y/n.

Y/n sat under the weirwood patiently waiting doing her embroidery,

Benjicot came to a stop a few feet away, watching her quietly for a moment. He still couldn't quite believe that not only had he asked for her hand, but her father had granted it. It all seemed almost too good to be true. He cleared his throat, a wide grin on his face as he spoke. "I have great news, my dear," he said, barely containing his excitement.

"oh enlighten me my lord," she smiled,

Benjicot stepped closer to her, his smile now so wide it was bordering on a grin. "Your father has given me his blessing to ask for your hand in marriage," he said, his voice full of joy. "I am to make you my wife."

"truely!"

"Truly," Benjicot agreed, his eyes sparkling with happiness. He stepped closer to her, resting his hands on her shoulders. "Our marriage is practically guaranteed," he said softly. "Soon, you will be mine. Lady Blackwood." Benjicot chuckled, his heart thumping against his ribcage. Seeing her giggle and blush because of him, just because he had called her "Lady Blackwood" stirred something in him. He gently brushed his knuckles against her cheek, his gaze affectionate. "Have you any idea how beautiful you are when you blush like this, darling?"

she giggled again and wrapped her arms around his torso squeezing him in a sweet hug "You're going to be the best husband Benji,"

Benjicot chuckled, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her closer. Her warmth against his body felt like bliss. he said, his voice full of affection. "Nand you shall be the best wife in all of westeros,”