Thinking About Tipsy Zoro And How Clingy He Gets . . T^T

Mando🤤

Fucking rail me pls.

Y'know what? Smut where Julius takes his gloves off slowly...

Just putting the idea out there 💅

“You keep staring at my hands. Is there any reason?” Julius sipped on his wine, knowing damn well what the reason was. You were intent on not getting flustered by him, especially in the middle of a ball where all eyes were on the Wizard King and yourself.

“I just think they look really nice in those gloves,” you sighed as you looked away.

He moved closer to you, a wicked grin on his face. He leaned in and whispered in your ear,

“I think they would look even better in you.”

“I have an even better idea,” you kept your voice low, turning your head, brushing your lips against his. “How about you wrap those hands around your cock and put on a pretty little show for me.”

He swore as he pulled back, pink dusting his cheeks.

“Smile and wave, love,” you took the glass from his hand and took a sip. He watched, mouth agape as your tongue licked a stray drop from the rim. Julius resisted the urge adjust his pants, knowing that his plight was becoming obvious by the second. “The world is watching.”

You and Julius slowly drifted to the exit, with Julius hiding his problem in the folds of your skirt. You two made a quick conversation here and there so it wasn’t too obvious, but the heated look on the Wizard King’s face and the subtle smile on your lips made it clear to anyone who cared to look know exactly why they were leaving.

The moment you stepped out the doors, Julius dragged you away to an abandoned hallway where you two always had your fun.

Before he could push you against the wall, you turned the tables on him and slammed him, cradling the back of his head to cushion it.

Julius grinned at you as he peeled his gloves off by his teeth, slowly revealing the veiny hand and muscled tendons. Knuckles tight in anticipation as he watched the way you were losing your mind. And his fingers, god his fingers. When the glove came off, you leaned forward and licked the middle finger. You held his wrist and sucked every single finger, showing him exactly what you would do if you had something else in your mouth.

Zoro

"was wondering where you slipped off to."

a month ago, you think, the sound of a man's voice in your kitchen well past midnight would have given you a heart attack. instead, much to your chagrin, shanks' low rasp—heavy with sleep—only has warmth curling in your chest. you purse your lips.

"’s my home. where would i go?"

shanks presses up against your back. only half an hour ago he’d done the same, tucked beneath the covers of your bed and curled around you so tightly it’d been a challenge to pry yourself free and slip away. you’d thrown on his shirt—plucked it from a corner of your room, a puddle of sea-softened cotton, not bothering to button it any further than you’d found it. he pinches at the sleeve and tugs it down, dragging the fabric down over your arm until it settles, buttoned opening only just covering the swell of your breast.

he’s gentle, touch slight as he brushes the knuckle of his index finger up your bicep. his lips are equally soft when he kisses at your shoulder. his hand finds your stomach, pressing into you, pressing you back into him, then sliding over and settling at the crook of your waist.

that mouth trails over your newly bared skin, up the slope of your collar to unabashedly bury his face into your neck and inhale, deep and slow.

"mm." the noise he lets out is something between a grunt and a sigh, low and rumbling against you. "dunno. you always find somewhere to hide away. what're you making? better be good, for my troubles."

"cookies," you say absent-mindedly, eyes trained on the orange glow of the stovetop light before you where two large brown cookies, still on their baking sheet, are cooling. then you blink. "your troubles?"

"woke up to an empty bed," he bemoans, "had to come down so many flights—"

"three. you think i don't know how tall my lighthouse is?"

"so energetic in the middle of the night. where do you even find the energy?"

you tut, reaching up with your hand to lace your fingers in his hair. almost immediately he turns his face into your palm, pressing a kiss there and rushing to leave more on the pads of your fingers, nuzzling his nose against the soft skin of your inner wrist.

"same place you find the energy to complain, i suppose." your thumb twitches as he nips at the base. "i could kick you out, you know."

"how cruel." his hold around you tightens. "you know my back hurts when i sleep on your stoop."

your head snaps to the side, determined to hide the way your face burns at that straightforward confession. luckily shanks seems preoccupied continuing to kiss at that hand, and a second later the oven timer beeps, drawing the attention of both of you.

"looks good," he says, loosening his grip just enough to let you reach out for one of the cookies, now cool enough to pry from the baking sheet.

"does roux ever bake?"

shanks lets out a bark of laughter. "roux's more of a hearty stew kinda guy."

"ah. 'course." your words are mumbled, spoken through the gooey mass of molten chocolate you've just bitten into. still warm, the cookie begins to fall apart almost immediately, collapsing between your fingers—shanks leans in to catch the greater part of the mess with his tongue, laving it over your palm and then up the length of your fingers for any remaining trace of chocolate, careful to press the roughness of his scruffy cheek along your shoulder with each movement. it draws gooseflesh there, sends a shiver down your spine that pools warmly at the base of your stomach.

"i made two for a reason, you know." in the dark quiet of your kitchen at this hour, you keep your voice low, barely more than a whisper.

"mm." his hum is more chipper this time, muffled around your finger as he slowly draws back. "we can split that one too if you'd like."

but his arm tightens around you once more, and he drags his nose along the length of your neck, lips brushing over the skin. when he reaches the base he pauses, pressing a kiss there—then another to the side, and another, lingering and meticulous as he crosses your nape.

"or," he starts, as if breathing a secret, "we could go back to bed."

"sounds like you've made up your mind."

"come back to bed with me. you need rest."

your lips twitch, all too aware that his plans hardly involve rest—yet still you nod. "fine."

and as soon as the word falls from your lips he has you slung over his shoulder, already on his way towards the stairwell. you catch one final glance at the lonely leftover cookie; in the morning it'll be hard, cold, and far too much to eat alone, but shanks has the right idea, you suppose.

you'd much rather spend the rest of the night tangled in the sheets with him.

Well well well-

Time's Up [Julius Novochrono]

an: time for another event request and I am so excited for it to be in the Black Clover fandom! Thanks to @simpingforthisonedeer for this absolute treat of a request! I hope I do your man justice... ^^

prompt: “I swear to you I won’t stop until your legs are shaking and the neighbours know my name.”

pairing: Julius Novochrono x fem dom reader

warnings: sub Julius, implied handjob, overstimulation, naked reader & mostly dressed Julius, fem dom, lil pouty Wizard King, the lengths you have to go to get him to do some damn work, office sex

Masterlist

The office was golden-kissed, the setting sun creating such a beautiful backdrop in which to admire your handsome beloved.

Papers littered the desk, quills scattered by the almost empty ink pot and a faint trace of dust caught your fingertip that ran along the surface.

Dust motes twinkled in the air, enough to look ethereal but not so much that would have you selecting a new location.

You tsked quietly, admiring the soft pout of Julius’s bottom lip as he watched you intently from the elaborate high-backed chair. The blonde hair was tousled from where you had run your hands through it roughly, the cheeks a blooming pink and those pouting lips completely swollen from your kisses.

“Seems your minder isn’t doing a good job of getting you to do any actual work of late,” you whispered.

His vivid purple eyes widened, jaw clenched as you undressed before him. Slipping out of the layers that highlighted your nobility until naked and freed from the shackles of etiquette.

A hand slid between the valley of your breasts, touching everywhere you knew he wanted to touch. Enraptured by his twitching cock that was already covered in his cum from merely your skilful hand.

His throat worked furiously, swallowing the runny saliva coating his mouth as he swept his gaze over your heavenly frame. Heart pounding frantically as he burned with desire, desperate to be yours and yours alone.

“What should I do with you, hmm? Being such a very naughty Wizard King. Think you deserve to be buried in this little pussy?”

Julius groaned as you slung your leg over his spread thighs, the fabric of his pants so very tight against his skin. Flames licked at him, heating every inch of him and it only worsened as your bare, glistening lips slid along his sensitive cock.

You smacked away the hands that tried to land on your hips, that longed to lift your weight and force you down to the hilt of his thick shaft. To stretch you out until you were moulded to only him, never able to find relief with anybody else.

It was such a shame to have to deny those sinful hands from touching you. The long, thick fingers and wide palms that you adored and knew exactly where and how to touch you, but he needed to be reminded who was in charge.

“Use your words, Julius and I didn’t say you could touch,” you scolded, tugging on his earlobe with your teeth between words. His crotch was slippery from his creamy cum, mingling with your arousal and ruining his expensive pants in the process.

“Please, let me fuck you,” he whined between sniffles, “I’ll be good. I promise I’ll finish up my work, but I gotta be inside you first.”

The smile to curve your sensual lips was wicked; the power of having the most powerful mage in the Kingdom, and perhaps the entire continent wrapped around your little finger was intoxicating. 

His brattish behaviour from earlier was gone in the blink of an eye at the sight of your stern expression. Sweat beaded on his brow as you took a harsh grip on his hair, forcing him to lean sideways to allow the wide wet sweep of your tongue, licking at the salty sweat and purring your contentment.

“How about this,” your breath tickled his ear and his eyes rolled deep into his skull as you teased the tip of his leaking cock against your needy little nub, “I swear to you I won’t stop until your legs are shaking and the neighbours know my name.”

Your blonde man stared you dead in the eye as he said, “you mean Marx?”

With one fluid shift and roll of your hips, you were inching down his length slowly and delighting in the sobbing hiccups from how over-stimulated he already was.

“Yes, beloved, I do mean Marx.”

It takes you forever to realize but every time you try to talk to shanks you interrupt him in the middle of trying to kiss you. It takes you even longer to realize that any time anyone does anything when you’re at his side they’re interrupting him when he’s trying to kiss you