#French tea towels

[merzelifestyle]

Authentic French Linen Tea Towels

29” X 21” 100% imported French Linen.

The french tea towel

Made like a french family prepared the meal, these beautiful tea towels give us a taste of yesterday.  The towel is focusing on the table universe, made of 100% stone washed linen. Screen printed of vintage photographs, the collection is entirely printed in Paris, FRANCE on natural and sustainable materials. Each product is handprinted one-by-one, using ecologically friendly water-based inks. Each vintage photograph is found in flea markets in and around Paris, focusing on french family pictures that depict memories, moments of joy or typical french posture. They will accompany your everyday life, meals, recipes and many other things... 

These dish cloths are just lucious and soft from the start. They are not only beautiful but also very durable. Each has a tab on one of the ends where you can hang them off a hook for styling, storing or drying.

Linen Care

Washing Linen:

Use a gentle detergent without bleach or any type of bleaching agents. Pre-treat stains prior to washing.

Never wash with dark clothing.

Drying Linen:

Linen can be machine dried at low to medium heat but it is not necessary if you prefer not to.  Linen dries very quickly either inside or outside.  If you do use a machine dryer, do not over drying since this can cause shrinkage and cause damage to the linen fibers themselves. 

Ironing Linen:

It is recommended that you iron linen while still damp to assist in ironing. Iron the reverse side of the fabric on medium / high.  The use of a spray bottle with water to iron works best in removing wrinkles.

Storing Linen:

Linen should be stored in a cool dry place.  Avoid placing linen in plastic since it can cause yellowing. 

Please see MERZE Blog for more on the care of linens.

[ripplefactor]

@johnderiancompany, New York ..

[domainelumiere]

5 Reasons Why Tea Towels Are a Must-Have in Your Australian Kitchen -Domainelumiere

Tea towels are a staple in Australian kitchens, and for good reason. These versatile and practical cloths have a multitude of uses, making them a must-have item in any kitchen. Here are five reasons why you should always have tea towels on hand in your Australian kitchen:

Cleaning and Drying Tea Towels Australia are perfect for cleaning and drying dishes and kitchen surfaces. They are absorbent and can quickly soak up spills and water, making them an ideal cleaning tool. You can also use them to wipe down countertops, appliances, and other surfaces, leaving your kitchen clean and dry.

Protecting Surfaces Tea towels can also be used to protect your kitchen surfaces. Place them under cutting boards to prevent them from slipping, or use them to cushion delicate items such as glassware and china. You can also use them to cover food to prevent contamination or to keep dishes warm.

Handling Hot Items Tea towels can be used to handle hot items safely. Use them to hold hot pots and pans or to remove items from the oven. They provide a barrier between your hands and the hot surface, preventing burns and injuries.

Decorating Tea towels are not just practical; they can also be a decorative addition to your kitchen. They come in a range of colors and designs, making them a great way to add a pop of color to your kitchen décor. You can display them on hooks or folded on a shelf, adding a touch of style to your kitchen.

Eco-Friendly Using Tea Towels Australia in your kitchen is an eco-friendly choice. They are reusable and can be washed and reused multiple times, reducing waste and helping to protect the environment. By using tea towels instead of disposable paper towels, you can also save money in the long run.

In conclusion, tea towels are a must-have item in any Australian kitchen. They are versatile, practical, and eco-friendly, making them an essential tool for cooking, cleaning, and decorating. With their many uses, it's easy to see why tea towels are a staple in kitchens across the country.

For more information..

Contact us :

Domainelumiere

[stardust-swan]

The Kind of Girl I Want To Be

Buys herself pink peonies and roses

Wears scents like Parfums De Marly Delina and Oriana, Miss Dior, YSL Paris, Prada Candy, Mon Guerlain and Chanel Chance Eau Tendre (she sprays it in the morning, after showers, and before going to bed)

Bakes heart shaped sugar cookies and macarons

Spends rainy days sipping rose tea from floral china while reading beautifully bound classic novels

Has a bookshelf filled with first edition poetry books, gilded editions of fairytale books, volumes of the Little Books of Fashion series, leatherbound classics, and Harlequin romance novels

Drinks peppermint tea in the morning and camomile tea at night

Sleeps on pink silk sheets and has a satin kimono robe

Plays Brigitte Bardot, classical music, and soft jazz in the background

Takes ballates or yogalates classes

Plays the violin or cello

Watches Audrey Hepburn and Anna Karina films

Adds sweet almond oil and rose bath tea to her vanilla bubble bath

Has a seasonal pass to the ballet and regularly visits the theatre, old bookshops, botanical gardens, and art galleries

Keeps things like French Girl lip tints/Glossier lip balms/Too Faced lip glosses, a hand mirror, a comb, some bonbons, a book, a rollerball of perfume, hand cream, a piece of rose quartz, a scrunchie, a nail file, spray on SPF and bubblegum in her bag at all times

Is always up to date with Fashion Week

Writes in her diary daily in swirly writing using coloured gel pens, pressing flowers between the pages and spraying perfume samples on it

Lights Yankee Candle Fresh Cut Roses or Rainbow Cookie, keeps soap and lavender in her wardrobe, and has vanilla diffusers around the house

Lives in a cosy home filled with beautiful things, like paintings by local artists, lots of cushions and throws, soft lighting from salt lamps and fairy lights, potted herbs and succulents, vintage vases filled with floral arrangements, DIY macramé and embroidery projects, a bowl of different crystals, signature Barbies on a shelf, rattan furniture, fluffy towels in white, pink, baby blue, and lavender, pink Dove or rose Roger et Gallet soap and Jurlique rose hand cream on the bathroom sink, pictures of her loved ones in antique frames, floral patterns everywhere, antique mirrors, and beautiful porcelain teasets

Goes to French cafés to enjoy a vanilla oat latte with a millefeuille or almond croissant

Always wears diamond or pearl earrings (often paired with a charm bracelet or gold heart locket)

Enjoys rosé wine, champagne, and strawberry daiquiris at lunchtime occasionally

Snacks on strawberries, sugared almonds, dried fruit and nuts, and Turkish Delight

Applies powder, rosy blush, lipgloss, and puts ribbons in her hair at her vanity table, which is decorated with a ballerina music box, vintage perfume bottles, and trinkets shaped like swans, angels and shepherdesses

Has her morning and evening routines down pat: waking up to melodic music, opening the windows, making the bed, doing gentle yoga, simple skincare, getting dressed, applying makeup, and eating a simple but delicious breakfast in the morning, and having a warm shower, doing more decadent skincare, putting on comfy cotton or satin pyjamas, journalling, enjoying a calming cup of herbal tea, reading, looking out the window at the moon, and falling asleep to relaxing sounds like ocean waves, gentle rainfall, and white noise at night. Her life runs like clockwork.

Is gentle, sweet, romantic, and full of love to give

[arijackz]

PICK A CARD: Your Soul's Signature Scent

✧ “Odors have a power of persuasion stronger than that of words, appearances, emotions, or will. The persuasive power of an odor cannot be fended off, it enters into us like breath into our lungs, it fills us up, imbues us totally. There is no remedy for it.” - Patrick Süskind

Disclaimer: This is a general reading, take what resonates. This is a gender-neutral reading, change any pronouns to apply to you. Also, I'm a rambler and I love going off track. One pile got a mini wattpad story. CHEERS!

p1 → p2 ↙︎ p3 → p4

✴︎ Pile One ✴︎ (King of Pentacles, 3oP, Knight of Swords, 9oS, 1, Ascension, Worthy,)

Not to be weird but I’d sniff you like rich frat boy coke.

It's hard to describe scents so… walk with me.

You have had a long, stressful day and the world is pissing you off. You’re stuck between a rock and a hard place so after work, you open Google Maps in hopes of temporary solace with cheap liquor and bar food. You find one of those dingy sports bars with shitty beer, sticky tables, and drunk grown men yelling at a tiny wall-mounted television.

Not exactly your cup of tea, but as the French say… C’est la vie!

You practically had to beat half of the bar off with a stick, just to find a seat. Drunk old guys + A Pretty Pile One = Sloppy, slurred marriage proposals(?) You couldn’t tell, but “I wanna bring you home to my mama” sounds close enough.

You pay them no mind. You have one goal. Get fucked up. Don’t throw up.

Okay, maybe two goals.

You finally find a stool and raise a finger to signal the bartender.  

“Hey, bartender! BAR-”

“I see you. Don’t call to me.” 

A nervous drop in your stomach almost tips you off your stool. You feel them before you see them. Every bottle clink they make reverberates to that pit in your stomach. You only hear the bartender’s movements among a crowd of bustling people: their shoes stick and unstick to the floor, their fake chuckles at guests’ jokes, every time their hand slides across the bar to collect bills.

Maybe it’s delusion but you’re convinced you hear the steady drum of their heartbeat. 

You finally get a good look at the bartender. In a sea of hostile people drowning themselves to forget their sorrows, you see the calmest, most fearless person in the room. Squared shoulders, back straight, head held high, and the smoothest walk you’ve ever seen; they almost glide.

You watch in complete admiration as they de-escalate a fight, sanitize bar taps, count money, and make a drink all in one go. You haven’t spoken more than two full words to this person but something about their presence makes you want to kneel.

The bartender finally makes their way to you and their eyes lock with yours. Your neck begins to sweat so you quickly dart your head away. A deep, velvety chuckle comes from the pits of their stomach, “Don’t show me you're nervous, I usually charge the Bambis more.”

“Bambis?”

“You’re shivering like a scared little deer, aren't you?”

You have no words so you focus on twisting your hands under the tables. 

They find you cute. With another chuckle they lean in closer to you, “I’ll tell you what, how about I make you a drink to calm you a little, yeah?”

“Uhm, I’ll take a-” Before you could even tell them what you want, their back is to you making a concoction.

Forty-five seconds later, a glass of honey bourbon with an orange slice and a vanilla bean stick slides in your direction. Along with a… cigar?

“I doubt you can handle this, but I want to see you sweat.”

Hands shaky, you press the glass to your lips as the bartender guides you, “Take it slow. Let it sit. Savor it.”

You came in here looking for cheap booze and a deep sense of impending regret, but here you are drinking $400 bourbon you can’t afford and hanging off of every syllable this person says to you.

After a slow sip and a burn behind the ears, you ask, “How do you do that?”

They raise their brow.

“Ya know… command like that.”

They whip a towel over their shoulder, “Once you realize how scared and hurt everyone actually is, worthiness feels less unattainable.”

BAHAHAHA THAT ENDING WAS SO CORNY (and kinda ominous??) BUT THIS IS GETTING LONG AND THIS AINT WATTPAD.

In summary, your soul has a very effortlessly commanding signature. Even if you aren’t aware, your energy dominates every space it enters. You might have people who seem to dislike you for no reason, this is why. BUT YES, a sweet bourbon with a hint of citrus and something smoked on the side is 100% your signature. Also… Petrichor. Your soul scent is the sweetened waft of smoked wood beneath grit and the smell of wet Earth after a storm. 

"Can You Taste The Spice On My Lips?"

✴︎ Pile Two ✴︎ (9oP, 10oP, King of Wands, Lust)

✴︎ BAEEEE, don’t fucking play with me. Your soul just told me to take my shoes off in your million-dollar mansion. You told me to stop acting like a fucking hooligan???

There is a richness to you down to your very core. I’m getting Pushya, the most auspicious nakshatra representing wealth, prosperity, and milk (divine nourishment). But there is also a spiciness here.

SPICED CHAI MILK TEA. That is the scent that jumps out to me. The hominess of full-bodied, sweet cinnamon. The spicy warmth of red chai. Maybe even a little nutty, Spanish almond if you’re feeling crazy.

There is also a gradual build-up here. All earth signs, but primarily Taurus. There is this steady, sensual accumulation of your energy. You cannot be rushed, you savor moments and allow yourself to rest in all the sensations you experience in the present. If you don’t do this, your soul is calling you to do this. Slow down. Chew slower, shower longer, and take time out of your morning to listen to the birds sing. 

The leisurely flow of the universe is inviting you to join its dance. You are safe. You are provided for. The universe is your sugar daddy. Your guides want you to know that what you want, wants you; you just need to slow down.

I sense that your energy is aphrodisiacal. Your sacral chakra is one of your dominant chakras (could be healthy or a leak but it is prominent) and when people enter your presence their chakra gets activated too. People get creative and fiery near you. If their sacral chakra is blocked, this may be repressed and they can hold resentment for the free-flowing energy you have which they feel they lack. 

Abundance. Abundance. Abundance. Abundance. That word is used a lot in this community and you may be tired of hearing it but that's too damn bad! You’re very fucking abundant.

If this puzzles you because you look around and don't see whatever you picture as abundance, it's because it's sitting within you waiting for you to actualize it. You have the skills, the intellect, and everything else under the sun needed to grab your dreams by the balls. I cannot stress this enough.

Go outside, journal, continue your affirmations, and remove yourself from anything lying to you and saying you cannot do this. It is a fucking lie. You have everything it takes to do what the world says is impossible. Shut the world’s opinion out and turn inwardly for your answers, because you have them.  

Ambrosia. Liquid gold. It flows through you. You are the gift. The universe’s greatest gift to you is you. You have the ability to spin anything into gold. 

I have some doomscrollers, spirallers, and people-pleasers in this pile. You may struggle with excess anxiety, digestive issues, acid reflux, and ulcers. Outside influences have tricked you into believing you are a pebble when you’re actually a diamond. 

Baby, you have to cut them off. By “them” I mean all negative energies that cause your mind to get stuck in a loop of self-hate. That includes social media, bad habits, fake relationships. Your solitude will heal you. Your peace of mind will heal you. Once you shut up the naysayers, you’ll finally hear the music that has been drowned out in your body and soul.

I know this is a lot but it is worth the effort. Your potential is worth the effort. A healthy state of mind is worth the effort. You are worth the effort. 

Sidenote: The star and temperance came out while I was cleaning up. BABY YOU A STAR IN THE MF MAKING!

"The great merit of gold is precisely that it is scarce”

✴︎ Pile Three ✴︎ (The World, 6oW, 2oW)

🎵Nowadays, I be duckin' them cameras

And they hype that I'm up on them banners

Callin' my phone, but they know I don't answer (why?)

In the hood, I'm like Princess Diana (grrah) 🎵

✴︎ THE PEOPLE 'S PRINCESS (or prince… orrrr the #1 baddest barnacle in the seven seas, whatever fits).

3, “The creative child” and 6, “The Caretaker” came out. 3 is the number of self-expression and creativity. 6 is the most harmonious number centered around nurturing your community. In the world, you’re the center of attention. In the 6 of Wands, you’re the one decked out in Dolce and Gabanna, playing Robin Hood and giving to the people. In the 2 of wands, you quite literally have the world in your palm.

Your soul’s footprint is destined to be seen and recognized. Baby, you are meant to be loved by the world at large. 

Maybe you have aspirations of becoming an artist, actress, or influencer. If you have dreams of being in the public eye, I am telling you your desires are not coincidental. You are meant for these dreams so do not be afraid to actualize them. The stars are expecting you, your home is in the spotlight.

Everyone incarnates on Earth with a role and purpose, you are meant to have a large platform because what you have to say matters and will elevate our collective consciousness. You have the gift of being able to garner great attention. People like to see you, talk to you, see what you’re wearing, know about your life, and everything else in between. People are like moths to a flame with you, you’re an entertainer to your very core.

You have a youthful, creative, and colorful soul. 

I am getting strong floral scents mixed with a crisp, clean linen smell. Gardenia, Ylnag Ylnag, Cherry Blossom, and Honey Suckle. I just know the bees be tearing your nectary ass up.

You know how Ariana Grande’s perfume line is always sold out? It’s kind of like that. “Oh, Pile Three is wearing this perfume? PUT IT IN THE CART. NEOW.”

Strong Venusian energy. Libra, Taurus, Pisces, 2nd house (especially for my singers), 7th house, Bharani, Purva Phalguni and Purvashada.

People find you very attractive. Yes, physically so, but the true embodiment of beauty stems from the soul. And you are utterly gorgeous. I am getting snow white; the animals flock to her, the sky clears for her, the seas part for her, and the forest protects her.

I am not trying to be redundant but this Earth does not play about you😭. That doesn’t mean you haven’t experienced hardship but trust, you will get the love you crave, tenfold. 

I get the sense that love has felt very conditional in your life and once the metaphorical “love pie” was cut and served, you were served last and there was never enough for you.

I am going to hold your hand as I say this,

Feel this pain. Process this pain fully. Cry all your tears, scream your sorrows out in the open, and let the winds carry it away. Let these feelings of being unloved leave your body because there is no space for them anymore. Eternal love is flowing in to fill those empty cavities. You are so loved. I am so sorry the environment around you has blocked this energy but please know that justice will be served and the love you are karmically owed is growing within you and you will be seen in this lifetime.

COME BACK TO THIS WHEN YOU’RE FAMOUS AND DON’T FORGET ME.

You better not go Hollywood on me 🫵

The Cosmos' Countess

✴︎ Pile Four ✴︎ (The Hanged Man, Knight of Wands, 5 of Swords)

✴︎ Random, but have you heard stories of those cool warrior monks? Who devotes themselves to their practice but when it’s time for battle they whoop ass?? That’s so you, boo.

You’re all peace, love, and light but you don’t fucking play about protecting your peace of mind. I sense that you live an alternative lifestyle. With the hanged man, you see life differently from the average person, and don’t waste your time with the world’s bullshit. 

You’re not on Twitter arguing about Drake’s tummy tuck (BAHAHA I HAD TO), you know shit like this doesn’t add to your life in any way. You focus your energy on activities and discussions that add to your self-evolution. You have made lots of sacrifices in life to progress forward and the universe sees your hard work and is proud of you. Hell, even I’m proud of you. 

You and the Universe like this 🤞. Here’s an affirmation that already rings true but is good to practice anyway, “I surrender to the natural flow of all existence.”

A lot of you study esoteric divinity practices. Tarot, scrying, rune-casting, psychometry, etc. We also have some healers. This may ruffle some feathers. Maybe your family or friend circle doesn’t understand your interests and may push against it but quite frankly… you don’t give a fuck. 

As you shouldn’t.

Your self-resolutions are impressive. You may feel nervous at times but your faith in yourself makes you fearless. You’ve done your studying. You’ve done your healing. You're ready to take the world by storm, and nothing is knocking you off your horse. You are the first to ride into battle and will be the last standing. I don’t know if you’re aware but you thrive in conflict, your soul spirit is akin to Martian energy and loves a good fight, to be honest. 

Your power is in your belief that everything will work out in your favor. “I have the power of God and anime on my side.” 

If you’re not quite at this level yet and you don’t see yourself as this peaceful warrior, you got the “soothe”, “present”, and “friendship” cards. It’s your nerves, baby. It has nothing to do with you as a person. You are smart enough. You are capable. You have everything you need to ride into this new life. 

The entire collective is being asked to slow down. The hustle in society right now does not allow our nervous systems to regulate themselves so everyone is miserable and drained. Remove yourself from this hustle and ground yourself in the present. You have to soothe yourself and lower your cortisol levels. Baby yourself, you deserve it.

Look up techniques to regulate your parasympathetic nervous on YouTube.

Anyway, your soul caught me off guard, you're that sexy mf fr. Ummm back to scent..

YES, okay so please don’t take this the wrong way because I am obsessed with what I'm getting. Hear me out, I used to take kickboxing classes for a few years and that particular gym’s scent was my favorite fucking scent. 

It sounds weird but it smelled like pent-up stress relief: sweat, blood, and Clorox. 

Of course, I’m not saying you smell like this, but this is how I perceive the scent your soul carries.

Your soul’s scent is victory. Particularly, through a bloody means. Your soul understands the purification in blood. Extremely Martian. You’re chill but you’re really fucking intense dude. I like you.

Oooo and also, hang out with friends!! Genuine contact can help relax your body.

Mmmkaye bye!

The Blood You Spill Is The Blood of Kings

[andreilscat]

"Hurry up, French Boy, Kevin is going to kill me if you get sick."

"I am quite literally running, Josten, what else do you expect me to do?" Jean said, trying to shield his face from the rain.

"I don't know," Neil seemed panicked as he fished out the phone from his pocket. "Andrew said he'll be here in five."

"How is he not tired of your shit yet is a mystery to me." Jean panted, running a hand over his face in a failed attempt to dry it.

"Yeah, yeah, you are just saying that. You are not much better than me, you know. It's not like I had to drag you to practice with us, you seemed pretty willing to go."

Jean decided to ignore him as he glanced at the approaching lights, "He's here," he said and went straight for the car, settling himself in the back seat, and pushing the few wet strands out of his eyes.

Andrew didn't look at either of them as he said, "Kevin?"

Neil made himself comfortable next to Andrew, completely drenching the front seat.

"He's with Aaron and Nicky, will be back later."

Jean stared out of the window, calm and tired, as soft music played on radio, and Andrew started the car.

***************************************************

The second they stepped into the house Jean started taking off his clothes, turning back to look at Neil, "Can I get a towel?"

Neil's brain lagged a bit as he tried to process what was happening in front of him. Sure, Jean was still in his shorts, but his hoodie and shirt were gone, leaving the bare, bruised skin on full display. His eyes fell to his waist and he imagined how it would feel under his fingers.

Andrew rolled his eyes and went out of the room.

When Neil found his voice again, without looking away he said, "You should take a shower."

"I will, later."

Before Neil could protest, Andrew was back with a towel, and a change of clothes for Jean.

"Abram," Andrew sent him a look, motioning to the bathroom.

***************************************************

The night was quiet, except for the muffled noise that was coming from the movie which served as the only source of light.

Neil walked over to the sofa only to find that Jean had already fallen asleep. They were supposed to finish the movie, and wait for Kevin, but Neil didn't complain, thanks to the sight in front of him.

Jean was sound asleep next to Andrew, holding his hand so tightly, that Andrew's knuckles were white from pressure.

"Nightmares?" Neil asked as he placed the covers over them.

"He was talking in his sleep," Andrew said, holding his other hand out to Neil, then pulling him in for a short kiss.

Neil slid under the covers next to them, and they slowly moved Jean so that his head was on Neil's lap.

Jean jolted awake, feeling his heart beating in his throat, but relaxed the moment he saw the worried look on their faces. He reached for Andrew's hand once again and Andrew let him hold it.

"It's okay, go to sleep, we'll wake you up when Kevin comes back," Andrew whispered, intertwining their fingers together.

Jean relaxed, burying his face in Neil's stomach, his other hand circling his waist.

***************************************************

Kevin unlocked the door trying not to make too much noise, then walked into the kitchen. He found Andrew leaning back against the counter, a cup of tea in his hand.

"He was asking for you."

Kevin walked over, until he was right in front of Andrew, "I left as soon as I could," he said with pleading eyes.

Soon enough, he was being pulled down into a kiss, Andrew's hands finding their way into his hair.

***************************************************

Andrew stopped in the hallway, motioning for Kevin to look at the sofa. Kevin froze in place when he saw them. It was finally happening.

Jean was sleeping almost on top of Neil, who in turn had his arms wrapped tightly around him. Kevin had never seen either of them so calm, especially when they were together.

"He has been waking up a lot, and was very panicked but Neil managed to calm him down."

***************************************************

Jean opened his eyes only to find that his face was buried in dark, auburn locks. He blinked the sleep away and started to get up, afraid of squishing the boy under him, but the second he started to move, Neil spoke.

"Going somewhere?"

"I didn't mean to wake you, sorry."

"You didn't, you can sleep more if you want," Neil said, tapping his shoulder as if to encourage Jean to lie back down.

"Aren't you just using this as an excuse to cuddle?" Jean joked, but without meaning to his gaze dropped to Neil's lips for only a second before he abruptly turned his head and started to get up again. "I think we should find Kevin and Andrew."

"Jean?" Neil called, and it was so quiet that Jean could swear he had imagined it.

"Yeah?"

"Can I kiss you?" Neil blurred out before he had the time to chicken out.

"I don't understand," Jean murmured, looking down at his own hands that were nervously playing with the hem of his hoodie.

Neil reached for them, grasping the sleeves and pulling him closer, until Jean was almost on top of him. "I'd like to kiss you," he whispered, looking up at him.

Jean let their eyes lock for a moment before giving in, he leaned in and pecked his lips softly.

A smile appeared on Neil's face as he pulled away and started prepping Jean's face with kisses. His eyes, cheeks, forehead, jaw, and the side of his mouth, before finally capturing his lips in a proper kiss.

Neil kissed him like he was made out of glass. Like he was the most precious thing in the world. Like the world itself began and ended with his mouth.

Jean pulled away with a gasp, trying to catch his breath, when Neil suddenly started giggling and pulling him into a hug.

***************************************************

"Well, it was about time," Andrew said, as he approached the bed, with Kevin following closely behind.

Jean was still trying to process what had just happened without even daring to look at Andrew. What exactly did this mean? Was he jumping to conclusions?

The tension in his shoulders eased when Andrew handed him a cup of tea, ruffling his hair as he sat next to them.

"You worry too much," he said, "Neil would never do something Kevin or I were not comfortable with."

"Besides, I was so sure we were obvious enough about our feelings towards you." Kevin added, taking one of Jean's hands into his own.

Jean looked each of them in the eye before pulling on Kevin's hand to get him closer.

"I almost made myself believe that I had imagined it all."

"Well, that just means we'll have to be more convincing," Kevin answered, intertwining their fingers together.

[saleeba]

the baby-making manual ; william saliba

summary ♡ baby fever hits the salibas full force.

pairing ♡ william saliba x fem!reader

content ♡ 18+, smut, husband!william, kissing, p in v sex, cunnilingus, reader & wilo are so broody & so in love with each other, missionary, doggystyle, riding, lotus position (yes i’m fucking depraved don’t look at me like that 🤕), soft romantic vibes, breeding kink, praise, body worship, size kink ofccc, clitoral stimulation, titplay, unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it unless ur name is y/n and ur starring in this fic 🥸), creampie(s), a smidgen of cockwarming, blink and u miss the one french word in here, talks about having kids, aftercare included !!

a/n ♡ the title is so goofy & nobody asked for this but the concept has been eating at my mind since the end of summer + i've had this in the drafts since oct so i gotta put me first lucius 😫😩😫😩😫 anyway this is day one of converting you all into wilo girlies hehe WAKE UP WORLD‼️ pls lmk how u all find this fic btw!! ik it won’t get as much attention as my jude ones bc there prob aren’t as many fans but i rlly would appreciate anything u have to say about it !!! 🫶🏽🥰 enjoyyyy mes chéris!! 😌❤️

an unexpectedly warm spring’s saturday had given cause to an impromptu barbecue held by your parents, and you and william had found yourselves in the company of most of your relatives for the day. how your mother had convinced half the family tree to be present on such short notice you will never know but you were grateful nonetheless, extremely happy to especially see the loved ones you haven’t seen since getting married to your now-husband a couple of years ago.

it’s close to eleven in the night now, your arrival at home being so belated due to the clash between your insistence that you and william had to go home as he had training the next morning and your father’s greater insistence that the two of you stay a little longer for another cup of tea, another plate of food, even the whole night if you wanted to. in the end, you had to put a politely firm foot down, more for william’s sake who can’t say no to your parents for the life of him, and who was on his way to accepting your dad’s invitation to stay the night before you spoke up. you knew the events of last night would repeat for the morning, your parents in a tug-of-war with you to make you guys stay for breakfast but you supported your case with the argument of the long drive home and the fact that mikel wouldn’t appreciate william’s tardiness the next day, especially at such a significant time in the season. 

you’re sitting in bed by yourself right now with a novel in hand – william having gone to take a much-needed relaxing shower – inwardly laughing to yourself over your husband’s people-pleasing antics and your mind meanders to the scenes of this afternoon, the sounds of children’s laughter and adults’ gossip in the air accompanied with the smokey scent of grilled food taking over your senses. you reencounter images of william chasing your little cousins, nieces and nephews around the garden — small, sweet giggles mixed with william’s deeper chuckles as they’re all engaged in an exhilarating game of tag, little feet and large padding around the property. 

your thoughts are pulled back into reality when the ensuite door clicks open, a cloud of steam puffing into the bedroom before it reveals your husband clad in nothing but a white towel around his waist, droplets of water dotted on his toned chest and abdomen. it’s a sheer sight for sore eyes and one that you will never tire of so you shamelessly watch as he smiles at you before gliding across the room, moving to his vanity to apply generous amounts of body lotion to bring back moisture to his skin, the action making his skin glow so prettily under the warm lighting of the bedroom. 

it’s these moments of silent appreciation that have you feeling like the luckiest girl in the universe; an adonis of a lover in your bedroom, one that would move heaven and earth at your beck and call, and there’s denying that you would do the same for him. 

in all your daydreaming, william’s moved on to pulling his pajamas on for bedtime, a pair of dark grey boxer shorts acting as said pajamas as he opts to go shirtless in fear of overheating on such a toasty night. you place your novel down, the previously read page distinguished with a bookmark, as william places a soft kiss on your forehead before tucking you both in under the thin sheets. 

“mum was really bad with the baby talk this time, wasn’t she?” you turn your body on its spot, head propped up by a bend of your arm as you face william who lifts his head at your rhetoric question. “i mean, you did look so fucking adorable with the kids today so i don’t know if i should say sorry on her behalf.” 

“not at all,” he only lets out a breathy laugh, now mirroring you in the shift of his own body. “i’ve had most people asking me about it now.”

“really?” 

you’re quite shocked to learn that there are indeed a lot of people who are eager to see william and yourself have a family of your own and that it’s not just pestering from your mother in particular, who has asked about when she will be seeing grandchildren from her daughter and “favourite son-in-law” from the moment the two of you had just about exchanged rings. you’ve grown accustomed to answering with the same old ‘we want to focus on us/our careers/our freedom’ response but there’s a little curious something that’s pulling the two of you to consider everyone’s requests.

“mmhm, i think i could count the number of people at the club that have asked me about it using my hands and my feet,” the pair of you laugh at this, a shake of your head over how believable that comment is despite it sounding so silly since the environment of your husband’s workplace is so close-knit and everyone is comfortable with each other. “it’s not just that, though, is it?” 

“no?” you question his tone turned serious now.

“when i see the guys and their kids, i can’t help wondering what i might be like in those sorts of situations, y’know?” you sit up at his words, heart racing a little faster with the way he looks at you; looks into you as he again copies your movements, taking your hands in his after leaning his shoulder against the headboard. “can’t help wondering what it would be like seeing you and a mini version of us in the stands during a match… wanna see our baby matching shirts with their papa, wanna hear their tiny voice cheer my name…”

you swear you feel your heart stop as soon as his lips form the words ‘our baby’. 

“oh, william,” you sigh over his thoughts spoken aloud, a slight pang of guilt hitting at your heartstrings and causing your eyes to tear up just a little. “why didn’t you tell me about all this, hm?”

you had no idea of his desire to have children, always assuming his response to everyone’s questions to be the same as yours and believing that he wanted to prioritise football over starting a family with you for at least a couple more years. 

“it’s not your fault, sweetheart, not at all.” his fingers swipe under your eyes in precaution against any spilt tears. “having a baby, hell, even wanting a baby... it’s a big deal; it’s hard to just drop it into a conversation if that makes sense.”

“of course, that makes plenty of sense,” his hands grip yours in a tight embrace, placing a kiss on the slightly trembling digits in an attempt to soothe you. “you really want to have a baby with me?”

william laughs softly at your words and the way you sit with your mouth gaping, starry-eyed with a million thoughts racing through your mind. 

“no, i want to have a baby with mrs khan next door.” he deadpans, referring to your elderly neighbour, before you shove at his shoulder, a blush overcoming your cheeks as you realise how daft your question is, disbelief over how much william wants to be a dad seeping into the way you’re thinking right now. “you’re the only woman that i want as the mother of my children, y/n, the only one.”

his eyes look even more beautiful in the peek of moonlight through the curtains and you fear your heart may give out tonight, squeezing so hard in your chest with the love that you feel for your husband.

“can i kiss you, baby?” he asks so politely, thumb running over the plumpness of your bottom lip. even after so many years together, he’s always the gentleman but still, you tell him that he doesn’t need to ask anymore — you are his to have as he is yours.

his lips descend upon yours with a gentle force, hands clasping over your waist where the black silk material of your short nightdress stops him from touching the warmth of your soft skin. instead, william decides to pick you up and place you on his lap, the urge to feel your body as close to his as possible controlling his actions, your knees dropping to either side of him as your clothed chest meets his bare one. 

as the kiss deepens on what seems like its own accord, you feel yourself growing wetter, thankful for your earlier decision to forgo underwear for the night as you grind down onto william’s lap, the cotton of his boxers creating delicious friction on where you need it the most. 

breathless sighs turn into light moans from the two of you as william tightens his grip on your waist with the same strength your core presses down onto his hardening length before he turns you both over to have you on your back, his form hovering over yours, lips ghosting over the nook where your neck meets your shoulders, leaving an eruption of goosebumps in its trail. 

in the pleasured shutting of your eyes, you can feel william’s hands pull down the loose straps of your nightdress, then a kiss on each shoulder and then the heat of his breath over your exposed breasts. 

“so beautiful, darling,” he looks up to your blushing face, the compliment painting a shy smile on it before his lips wrap around your left nipple with wasting any time. a whine is pulled from your lungs over the way william suckles on the nub, a tiny tug of it between his teeth causing you to arch your chest further into his mouth. of course, he doesn’t forget to pay attention to your right boob, taking his sweet time in kissing and swirling his tongue around the stiffness of the other side. “how did i get so lucky, hmm?”

you whimper in response as he brushes his lips down your body over your nightdress; from under your breasts, over your navel and arriving at the base of your tummy, where he places the firmest kiss of them all atop of the lustrous material. 

“william…” 

“gonna take care of you, baby, i promise.”

his hands now come down to your thighs, where the inner parts are sticky with arousal, and he hoists the hem of your dress up past your bellybutton, the pressing together of your legs to soothe the ache of your core as a light breeze hits it inciting your husband to part them and find home in the self-made gap. his head lowers to where your pussy lays nearly leaking onto the sheets and your breaths quicken, reaching an all-time rapid high when william plants a kiss on your clit, one so soft that it would’ve been deemed innocent had it not been in the midst of an action so filthy. 

in the ‘o’-shapedness of your mouth, amorous sighs escape as he starts his attack on your wetness — mouth open, tongue out, lapping at your juices as you sing his praises in the form of high-pitched moans. his tongue slips past your drenched folds to find your sopping hole, the tip of it poking past your entrance as he’s full-on eating you out now, open-mouthed moans from the simple pleasure of your pussy on his lips almost drowning out your sounds. 

there’s a particularly lusty moan from you when his thumb finds your tense clit, a couple of rubs on it releasing a string of cries out of the confines of your lips as your legs tremble from their position on his shoulders. from the very beginning of your married life, william had made it his mission to become well-acquainted with you in the bedroom, and you think he’s succeeded as the way he knows which buttons to press to get you to cum at his mercy is very telling, fingers working expertly in toying with your sensitive nub as your walls clench around nothing but the conjured-up image of cumming all over his mouth and pretty face. 

“william… i-” you start but are soon interrupted by the intense sucking of your already pounding clit between his moistened lips. the wail you let leave your body is almost pitiful, the feeling so fucking good but so sudden and unexpected that you fall head-first into your orgasm, crashing into it with a spasm of your thighs around william’s head, pawing at his dark hair for some inkling of relief and grounding since you truly believe you’re about to lose all sense of reality with how strong this orgasm has hit you. 

william doesn’t relent despite your convulsions, placing kisses over your clenching pussy and shaky abdomen. you manage to still your involuntary motions to catch a glimpse of his face in all its glory; his lips glistening wet with your release and his eyes darker than ever, impossible to distinguish the colour of his pupils from the colour of his irises, an unfolding plan of what’s to come for you both behind his soft gaze.

“did so, so good for me, my love,” he praises, kissing you through panting breaths from the both of you. “want to feel you around me, fuck, need to feel you around me, baby.” 

you go to deny him at first, nestling your hand against the bulge of his boxers but he’s quick to deny you in turn. 

“no, baby, tonight’s for you, ok? just wanna take care of everything— take care of you.” 

you nod in acceptance, knowing that arguing with him would be futile, a gentle flame in his eyes telling you of his determination to do nothing but be at your service until the sun comes up.

“how do you want me first, amour?” 

you almost swoon at the question, unable to believe that you essentially have this man at your mercy now, getting dizzy over choosing whether you want to ride him into oblivion first or save that for later and have him take you from behind to start with. either way, you know that tonight was no night for a meagre one round.  

“how about as we are right now?” you suggest, the current arrangement of you on your back and william on top proving perfectly convenient for you guys to start with your favourite position in bed.

“sounds perfect, baby,” he smiles before getting up to rid his body of those grey boxers and then almost leaning over you to pull a condom from the nightstand before he stops himself midway, the both of you realising that this is a habit that will need to be unlearnt now. a pair of giggles erupts between you and a silent agreement to forget the condom for the whole purpose of tonight is sealed with a rerouted kiss from william. he then prompts you to lift your hips so he can slot a pillow underneath them and have you as comfortable as you can get. you can’t resist biting your bottom lip at the pulsating anticipation between the two of you, the sight of his bare cock admittedly making your mouth water. 

now back on the bed and parting your legs, william resituates himself in between, this time with his cock in his hand running down your increasingly dripping slit, the occasional dip past your folds making you wince in an addictive combination of overstimulation and urgency. 

“shit, angel, i’m sorry,” his apology is sincere as he searches your eyes for signs of discomfort. “we don’t have to do this right now, we can take a break, do you want me to ge–”

“babe, i’m fine, okay?” you huff out a laugh, your husband’s honestly innocent face tickling your tummy and making your core ache even more. “j-just fuck me, will, please?” 

his answer comes in the guise of an assured smooch against your swollen lips, taking the quiet opportunity to sink into your wetness, completely raw for the first time, with a loud deep groan that makes your stomach feel like it’s gloriously folding in on itself. you revel in finally having the naked thickness of his cock inside you, experiencing every ridge, vein and inch of smoothness directly between your gummy walls with a hushed fuck before he gets to work on setting a moderate pace — slow and savouring it seems, his way of saying that he wants this to last as long as it possibly can. 

"william… so big..." no matter how many times you've been under him and how many times you say it, it will always ring true; the initial stretch and burn that his cock creates for you will always light a fire of delicious friction, tonight being a million times more special than every previous encounter put together. and no matter how many times william hears it, it will always set his mind ablaze, hips now pistoning at an unfathomable speed as he can’t hold back anymore, moaning and groaning about how good you feel uninterrupted around him, how there'll be no one else for him, how you're everything to him. it all has your pussy gushing around him to no end. 

your whimpers warn him of another impending orgasm, the tightening clasp of your cunt and the way you’re clawing at the softness of his lower tummy in sheer desperation make william’s movements falter just the slightest, a whine leaving his throat as he can feel his own climax catching up to him.

“close, baby,” he warns in sentences incomplete, brain whirring on pure pleasure and nothing else but the desire to have you cumming around him. he’s afraid that he may finish a fraction too soon and leave you disappointed so his fingers find your stiffened clit again, the caressing of his thumb a little harsher this time around as part of an effort to get you both to cum at the same time.

the pleasure you’re receiving from the touch of his thumb and the stroke of his dick is almost too much, hands willing their way to pull his off of you but the speed at which your second orgasm hits you beats any other competition to the finish line, pussy barely squeezing to trigger william’s first orgasm of the night; your lover climaxes inside of you with a sound so guttural, it has him almost collapsing against your shaking form but you invite him to do so, a tender hand on the back of his head guiding him to a safe haven in the crook of your neck as the strangely comforting feeling of thick, white liquid streams down your inner thighs. heavy breaths saturate the dimly lit room as you lay with your lover for a moment, warm bodies basking in the aftermath of a shared orgasm.

after a comfortable minute or two, william speaks up, his voice dropped to an octave so deep it relights the fire in your seeping cunt before your head can even process his words. 

“how does round two sound to you?” he’s asking amidst the plotting of a few kisses up your jawline.

you’re ready to jump his bones again on your own accord so when you hear the request fall from your husband’s lips, it’s an immediate “yes please” from you, not even bothered to feel shameful about the reeking desperation of your response.

a knowing chuckle and another kiss seal the deal, william pulling your now-creased nightdress over your outstretched arms, leaving you completely bare but free; accessible to his every touch. he asks you to turn around onto your hands and knees, setting the pillow down underneath your lower abdomen as a precaution. 

“there we go, angel,” he places a tender kiss at the bottom of your spine, running a hand up the natural curve of your back while you anticipate his next action. “gonna make my pretty girl feel so good tonight, she deserves it all.” your thighs divide instinctively in response to his voice and the sight of his cum glistening on your skin has william choking on a moan, needing to stroke his cock on the white-stained slipperiness.

“william, don’t tease,” you beg with a shake of your ass against his crotch to get him to hurry and slip his length inside of you. “can’t wait anymore.”

your husband obliges immediately, having lubricated his dick enough with his own release off your thighs, pushing into your hole with so much more ease and a filthy squelch as the realisation that the majority of his cum from the previous round is still inside of you hits him. oh, it sends william’s entire being into a lustful frenzy. 

“f-fuck, baby, listen to how well i filled you up,” he gasps out, mouth forming an ‘o’ shape as the dirtiest noises he has ever heard emits from where his cock is connected to your pussy. 

you’ve done this position more times than you can count but the raw state of his dick plus the way it definitely plunges deeper from all the lubrication william has created inside you has you growing wetter beyond belief, another layer of arousal helping him reach damn near a whole new dimension of your cunt. you don’t want to lend your name to porno-fuelled incorrect biology but you swear he’s in your cervix right now, the pillow now playing its part in hoisting your bottom half up, back arching so beautifully, making it the perfect setup for william to split you in half with every thrust of his length.   

between a melody of cries of his name from your worn lips and his deeper moans, you surprisingly cum without a word of warning; it’s fast and it’s hard and it’s white-hot, almost launching your body off the bed entirely. it’s not so surprising, actually, given the speed of william’s pounding inside of your creaming pussy and the resulting splat-splat-splat noise his actions make, all of it way too much, way too depraved and addicting to try and avoid. 

“good fucking girl,” your husband grunts out at the sensation of yet another round of your pussy walls spasming around him, another round of hot cum spurting into your hole as he fills you up with an animalistic fuck! marking the round so differently from the last one, which was so full of love, this one in a tone that is much more lewd and untamed. 

you’re still on all fours, moaning softly at the flood of cum that spills out of you from around william’s dick and onto the sheets below, cunt still clenching his shaft which doesn’t seem to get any softer despite the two of you having been at it for nearly two hours without a break. your husband, sheathed still in your core, runs a series of kisses up your back, reaching the back of your ear to leave praises of how good you were for him just then and how pretty you look while he’s balls deep inside of you. eventually, he pulls out with a throaty moan, leaving you panting as you fall onto your back to look up at his fucked out expression.

william’s standing there with his hands on his hips, chest heaving, face all smiley and flushed, an image not too dissimilar to one where he’s fresh off a victory on the pitch. you wish you could take a picture of the scenery in front of you but you trust your memory to sear it into place for you instead.

“fucking hell, if i’m not pregnant by now then i don’t even know what to say!” you laugh out at the mess you’ve both made of the sheets and yourselves, and william joins in before quipping in with a “hmm, we should make sure, just in case, of course.” a cheeky tone in his voice as he snuggles his mouth against your neck, the hair on his chin tickling your skin as you squirm on the bed out of ecstatic amusement.

“okay, okay, but first we have to take a break, babe!” you manage to squeal out before william ceases his tickle attack on you, letting you go to the bathroom while he fetches a glass of water from the kitchen. 

by the time you’re finished and clean, william has the bed remade and the glass of water held out by the hand upon your return to the bedroom. you shake your head at him, bemused at this butler act he’s now performing.

“your refreshment, mrs. saliba,” he mocks what you assume to be a posh british accent, his own french one adding so much charm to it. 

“i thank you, mr. y/l/n,” you smirk back and take a sip, careful not to choke as william pushes your shoulder in jest with an oi before sitting down on the edge of the bed and watching you set the empty glass down on the nightstand. 

“so, about that making sure thing,” you pounce on his lap within a split second, settling your hands on the warmed skin of his shoulders.

william throws his head back in a hearty chuckle. “fucking hell, what was in that water?!”

“shut up and kiss me, saliba.” you command and he doesn’t dare to do anything but oblige, lips catching yours in a heated kiss that reinstalls all elements of hunger and lust inside of the pair of you. running your hands down and over the expanse of his chest has william parting his lips in a low groan, you taking the opportunity to slip your tongue inside his mouth and swallow all of his sugary sweet sounds, not wanting any ears other than your own to hear them. the resumed grinding of your naked crotch on william’s has him hardening quickly, another order from you to go lay himself down on the pillows moving scenes on as rapidly as you like. 

“good boy,” you admire the way he’s displayed himself for you, long athletic body sprawled out in all its glory, the moonlight a little brighter now that the night has really settled in. “you look so good like this, william, fuck, need to have you inside me now, baby.” a couple of tugs on his stiff cock and you’re sliding down onto it, william’s hands – slightly sweaty from excitement – holding you in place as you begin to rock and raise your body. 

there’s a harmonised whine from the two of you as you’re filled with his thickness once again, william encased in your snug, plush walls, and the swivel of your hips atop him makes his teeth grit in euphoria. seeing this spurs you on more, momentum picked up from the way william throws his head back, leaving his neck at your mercy and you of course can’t help but nip and kiss and lick over it, the sounds being pulled from his throat so saccharine and tuneful. 

he pants out with a vice-like grip on your hips, the skin white with the extreme grasp his fingers have on it. “s-slow, baby, slow…” he pleads while you rock and grind and bump into his crotch like a woman gone mad, chasing a high that is just at the tips of your fingers… just a little more. 

you whine out his name, scratching at his chest where you had previously been resting your hands for leverage, and he finds a little leeway before taking a gulp of courage and sitting up to meet the stirring of your pelvis with his, cock sputtering up into your cunt as he supports you with his large hands behind your back.

the position is possibly the most intimate you’ve been in — naked chest to naked chest, your nipples rubbing against the softness of his pecs, your knees on either side of him as his are crossed underneath you, body so much smaller than his, lips so close to touching with every jerk and bump but never really kissing, always teasing. it’s all so fucking hot and there’s nothing you want more than for him to fill you up once more. 

the knock-knock-knock of another orgasm has you pulling him so close against you, practically forcing him to shift his entire weight on top of you. you feel the need to bury him inside your skin. to be bound entirely and irrefutably. his lips, just now attached to the mounds on your chest, start rambling in his native tongue. you're not quite fluent in french but you've been with william long enough to pick up some things; the important things. through his wanton panting and sighing, he's spilling all his desires to you — telling you that he can't wait to see you swollen with his child, can’t wait to see if they’ll have his hair or your smile, can’t wait for you both to finally be the parents you had dreamed of being. there’s a fire in his words and it sets your whole body alight, scratching down his back in vicious streaks that will surely be present for the next week.

“w-william, please,” you wail, legs burning in their effort to capture your awaiting high. “put a baby in me, fuck, please, fuck a baby into me.” freshly hot tears are fully spilling down your cheeks now, the ecstasy of his cock pounding into you and the promises he’s made to you proving too much and you need relief from it all, desperately.

“gonna do just that, angel, gonna fill you up nice and good,” he moans out, pulling you in closer to his gyrating form. “gonna fill you up over and over until we get that baby.”  

and that’s the tipping point for you, your husband’s words, so sincerely sweet yet sinful, being the thing to push you over and have you cumming with a thunderous scream of his name. your pussy gushes around his rigid length, walls fluttering around it so forcefully you’re scared they’ll be stuck like this forever. william soon follows with his own orgasm, a few throaty moans that sound so pretty coming from his plump limps as they match the rhythm with which he spurts his sticky cum into you. your legs tremble in both exhaustion and bliss around william, and he’s quick to soothe them over with his hands, mouth landing kisses over your face and your chest. 

there’s only a symphony of heavy panting from you both now, and the occasional whimper or soft moan, as william lays on his back with you on top of him, large hands running up and down your back to steady your breathing, his dick still firmly in you. you're pretty sure you've forgotten what it feels like to be empty and without him.

“you okay?” he mumbles into your hair, a loving kiss left on your forehead before he tilts your chin up to look at him, your eyes weary and ready to doze off. you can only muster up an mmhmm but william is determined to end the night perfectly for you.

“hang on, baby, okay?” he requests before slowly pulling out of your heat and dashing to the bathroom where you can hear the din of him rummaging through cupboards and running the bathtub’s taps, leaving you to laze around with a pool of cum leaking out of you. the sudden crash of something metal followed by a shit! is enough to pull you out of the clasps of sleep, however.

your husband reappears swiftly, a boyishly guilty look on his face to which you raise an eyebrow. 

“everything’s fine!” he assures your silent questioning. “i want to take care of you right now, though. please?”

you flash him a tired but teasing smile in affirmation and he picks you up bridal-style, giving a quick kiss to your lips before walking you over to the bathtub and gently placing you in the comfortably warm and bubbly water where you feel your muscles instantly relax. the calmingly fragrant scent of chamomile fills your nostrils as you sigh up at your lover. 

“thank you, honey,” you speak, a slight croak to your voice from honest exhaustion. william nods at you before plotting another sweet kiss on your temple. 

“room for a little one?” he asks with a beautiful grin on his face, teeth all out in his signature style.

“always.” you scoot forwards to make room for him and he slips his much larger frame behind you, instantaneously pulling your back into his chest, hands delicately soothing over your tummy as he delivers a bunch of kisses across the plane of your shoulders. 

“sounds stupid but i already have a list of names that i wanna go over with you.” he says shyly after a moment of quiet.

you giggle and set a devoted kiss to the wedding band on his ring finger. 

“i’m all ears.” 

[tokki------0]

Minji’s Remedy: Love as Medicine

MinjiXfemreader

Synopsis:Minji devotes an entire day to lovingly caring for her sick girlfriend, proving that love is the greatest remedy.

warning:No one

A/n:I really wrote this story during my French class XD

The biting winter wind howled against the apartment windows, leaving a thin layer of frost that sparkled under the pale daylight. Inside, Y/n lay stretched out on the living room couch, bundled in a thick blanket. A harsh, painful cough shook her weakened body, her usually vibrant face pale and marked by fever. She hadn’t found the strength to get up that morning; every movement felt like an enormous effort.

Minji, her attentive girlfriend, was in the kitchen, worry etched across her face. The moment she had seen Y/n’s condition upon waking, she knew the day would be dedicated entirely to taking care of her. Minji wasn’t one to hesitate or falter in moments like these. She took charge with quiet determination and unwavering love.

A Difficult Morning

Minji entered the living room with a tray in her hands. It held a cup of honey-lemon tea, a plate of sliced fruit, and a small towel soaked in warm water. She placed the tray on the coffee table and sat beside Y/n, whose eyes opened halfway. Minji smiled softly, her fingers brushing Y/n’s feverish cheek.

“How are you feeling, love?” Minji asked in a comforting voice.

“Like a truck ran me over,” Y/n replied with a raspy laugh, followed by another coughing fit.

Minji frowned, visibly pained to see her in such a state. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you. You don’t have to do anything today except rest.”

She picked up the tea and brought it to Y/n’s lips, gently supporting her as she sipped. The warmth soothed Y/n’s sore throat, and she closed her eyes in relief. Setting the tea down, Minji used the warm towel to dab Y/n’s forehead and temples, trying to reduce her fever.

“You know,” Minji said with a faint smile, “you don’t have to act tough with me. If you’re feeling awful, just tell me, okay?”

Y/n nodded, touched by Minji’s care. “Thank you for being here for me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Minji gazed at her tenderly. “You’ll never have to find out because I’m not going anywhere.”

A Day of Care

After ensuring Y/n was comfortable on the couch, Minji got to work preparing everything Y/n might need. She started by making homemade soup, blending fresh vegetables and medicinal herbs. The kitchen, usually her playground for experimenting with new recipes, was now transformed into a healing haven.

As the soup simmered, Minji returned frequently to the living room to check on Y/n. She adjusted the blankets, offered her water or tea, and gently held her hand, providing constant reassurance.

“You know,” Y/n said weakly but with a hint of humor, “I think you’re more efficient than a professional nurse.”

Minji laughed. “Well, I might be a bit too emotionally involved for that. But if it makes you feel better, I’m happy.”

When the soup was ready, Minji brought a steaming bowl to the living room. She sat beside Y/n, spoon-feeding her carefully. Though Y/n was reluctant at first, she ended up finishing most of the bowl. The soup’s warmth seemed to revive her slightly.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” Y/n murmured, her eyes shining with gratitude.

Minji shook her head with a modest smile. “I’m just doing what anyone would do for the person they love.”

A Moment of Respite

After eating, Y/n felt well enough to chat a bit. Minji suggested putting on a movie to lighten the mood. She picked a light romantic comedy, knowing it was one of Y/n’s favorite genres. As they watched, Y/n snuggled against her, resting her head on Minji’s shoulder.

“You’re so warm,” Y/n murmured, her voice nearly a whisper. “It’s like you’re my little ray of sunshine.”

Minji’s heart swelled at the words. She wrapped her arms around Y/n, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “And you’re my everything. I’m here, okay? Always.”

A Quiet Afternoon

The afternoon passed peacefully. Ever-vigilant, Minji continued monitoring Y/n’s condition, frequently checking her temperature and ensuring she stayed hydrated. She also made sure Y/n was entertained without exerting herself. At one point, she offered to read aloud, bringing a smile to Y/n’s face.

“What should I read?” Minji asked, scanning the bookshelf.

“That one,” Y/n said, pointing to a romance novel they’d started together but never finished.

Minji settled beside Y/n and opened the book, her soft voice filling the room. She read with such emotion that Y/n felt transported into the story. For a moment, she forgot her illness, carried away by the words and Minji’s comforting presence.

A Moment of Vulnerability

Later in the day, Y/n was suddenly overwhelmed by a wave of emotion. The physical pain, combined with Minji’s tender care, brought tears to her eyes. Alarmed, Minji immediately set the book down and enveloped her in a hug.

“What’s wrong, love? Does it hurt too much?” she asked, her voice trembling with concern.

Y/n shook her head. “No… it’s not that. I’m just… so lucky to have you. You’re always here for me, even when I’m at my lowest. I don’t know if I deserve all this.”

Minji tightened her embrace, her own eyes glistening with tears. “Y/n, listen to me. You deserve all the love in the world and more. You’re the most important person in my life, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. You don’t have to feel guilty or unworthy. I’m here because I love you, plain and simple.”

They stayed wrapped in each other’s arms for a while, a silence filled with understanding and comfort enveloping them.

A Peaceful Evening

As night fell, Minji helped Y/n into bed. She adjusted the pillows, made sure the blankets were snug, and then sat beside her.

“Do you want me to stay with you tonight?” Minji asked.

Y/n nodded faintly. “Please. I always sleep better when you’re here.”

Minji smiled and slipped under the covers, wrapping an arm around Y/n. She gently stroked her hair, whispering words of love and silent promises. Gradually, Y/n drifted off, her breathing evening out as her fever began to subside.

Minji stayed awake a little longer, watching over her like a vigilant guardian. Though Y/n was still weak, Minji could see she was improving. And as long as she was there, she’d do everything in her power to make Y/n feel loved and supported.

Love as a Remedy

The next morning, when Y/n opened her eyes, she found Minji asleep beside her, arms still wrapped around her. She felt immediately comforted, a wave of gratitude washing over her. Though not fully recovered, she knew she would get better because Minji was by her side.

“Thank you,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to Minji’s forehead.

Minji opened one eye, smiling faintly. “It’s my job to take care of you, remember? And I’d do it over and over again because I love you.”

Y/n smiled, tears glistening in her eyes. In that quiet yet powerful moment, she realized once again that Minji’s love was the greatest remedy of all.

[jam3sacaster]

hello darling!

absolutely adore your writing and your rupert specifically. If I may, and if you arent too busy, J was hoping to request something rather self indulgent for him. I am a major sucker for some domestic rupert and especially hurt/comfort is quite lovely with him. Is possible, maybe something about reader (being a bit older - around 25 or so) cooking dinner for them after work and maybe she cuts her finger or something and he takes her to an urgent care and the two of them have that moment of panic but, also knowing it would be okay bc their together.

WHEW THATS LONG LOL SRY! Hopefully that works w you lol

💫🪽 - salem, she/hers, from america

Hello Salem,, thank you for stopping by!! I’m so happy you enjoy my work 🥰🥰 Funnily enough, I’ve actually done something really similar to this with reader cutting her finger but I can do something with the same kind of topic but just a lil different ! 🥹

“You must be careful, angel.”

(Rivals) Rupert Campbell-Black x Reader

Short Work

Suggestion by this sweet anon 🫶🏽 / You hurt yourself whilst coming a romantic meal, Nurse Rupert comes to your aid…

18+ FANFIC / Soft 🥹 Rupert 🥹 Reader character aged at 25. As always, my ask box is open for any requests for any character 💋 or even just to have a chat lol.

Today was yours and Rupert’s sixth month anniversary. You wouldn’t typically celebrate something so unsubstantial but the way he has treated you throughout these six months — supplying you with lavish jewellery, your own purebred Appaloosa, endless meals provided by private chefs — was something that deserved to be celebrated. His closest friend, Lizzie Vereker, had praised you for being the first and only person to transform his Lothario lifestyle.

“What’s on the menu?” Your lover asked, snaking his hands around your waist as you piled chopped onions into a pot. Your response was haltered by sloppy kisses being planted up the length of your neck. “Well, it’s French onion soup for start. And I was thinking to do truffle risotto for main.” You inform him, keeping a close eye on the kettle you had begun to boil, anxious to get a start on making the perfect meal. “Mmm, my favourite.” Rupert purred, taking a seat at the dining table behind you and poured you both a large glass of cherry-red wine.

“Just don’t disturb me,” You warn, “Everything has to be perfect.” The muscular man breathlessly sighed — intoxicated on copious amounts of wine and lighting up what must be his 10th cigarette of the hour. “Yes chef.” He remarked, coughing through his first drag. As the kettle had sufficiently boiled enough, you raised it with an unsteady hand, already stirring your onions with the other. Lifting it high enough to pour, you splashed the hot water over the now-simmering onions but subsequently caught yourself in the process. Hand seething and swelling instantaneously, you let out an excruciating yelp and dropped the kettle onto the counter top. Like a flash, Rupert was raised to his feet, stubbing out his cigarette. “My word, what have you done?” Bouncing on his heels in a frantic panic.

Floods of tears expelled themselves from your eyes as you held your limp wrist, blowing air onto the burn in a futile effort to eliminate the pain. “Burning, burning…” Were the only words you could push out through your thickening tears. Taking a firm grip of your wrist, Rupert pushed open the cold tap and held your hand underneath it, the instant cool providing a blessed relief. He settled a tender kiss on your forehead, his own mouth pouting in empathetic gloom. “You must be careful, angel.” He scalded in absolute disbelief at your self-inflicted injury.

Snatching his car keys from the counter top, and instructed you to get an ice pack from the freezer. Doing as you were told, you wrapped the ice pack in a tea towel and kept it pressed firmly on your scalded hand. “Where are we going?” You ask, watching your boyfriend pull on his coat, following him as he stomped towards the front door. “A&E. Sit down.” His firm voice instructed again, finger pointing towards the stairs. He grabbed your slippers and placed them gently over your feet.

Just over an hour later, you were both sat in the eerily melancholic A&E waiting room. You tried your best not to look at the people sat around you, already taking heed of someone clasping a blood-soaked towel to their head. “Rupert, I’m scared. I really don’t feel this is necessary.” You whisper, eyes firmly affixed on the floor. “There’s nothing to be scared of, angel. When I’m with you, you needn’t be scared of anything. We just need to get your hand checked.” He whispered back in response, rubbing his hand softly across your thigh. Taking a deep exhale, you rested your head on his shoulder, wrapped up tightly in Rupert’s jacket. He just made everything okay.

[littleadaline]

Promoted [P.G6]

Word Count: 2.6k

Warning: none

A/N: none hi hi :)

————————————————————————

*The story is set at least 4 years in the future, making Gavi and the reader 23 years old*

The coffee had long been set on the table. The eggs, neatly placed to the left of the coffee pot, were slowly cooling off. The French toast, prepared with love by Pablo’s aunt was getting soggier by the second. Despite his entire family sitting at the dinner table, waiting for you, the conversation went from mouth to mouth and ear to ear. The door to the bedroom opened with hesitation. You recognized Pablo’s footsteps against the marbled floor.

“Pequeña, breakfast is ready. Want me to fix you a plate?”

Gavi’s hand found your hair, slowly and gently stroking it. You opened your eyes, admiring your fiancé in front of you, his clean shaven face, the way his hazel eyes were staring you down. He looked peaceful, almost angelic. You brought his hand to your lips, leaving a gentle kiss on his knuckles.

“I don’t feel too good, pretty boy. My head is pounding. I’m sorry, I might have to skip on breakfast.” You closed your eyes, shielding them from the blinding sunlight.

Pablo got up to close the blinds, plunging the room in darkness. You sat up, your back pressing against the decorative pillows on Pablo’s bed.

“Gee, you really like decorative pillows, Pablito.” You said, gently throwing him one.

“I will bring you something for your headache. And some breakfast. French toast?” Pablo asked you standing in the doorframe.

“Yes please. Thank you, pretty boy.” You blew him a kiss before laying back in bed, your eyes glued to the ceiling.

The door opened soon again, too soon for your taste.

“Pablo?”

“Sorry sweetheart, it’s me!” Gavi’s mom’s head peaked from the half-open door. “A little birdie told me you weren’t feeling so good. I brought you some tea, and medication.” She set down the mug and plate on the bedside table before kneeling down to you.

“You do feel hot, hija.” She said, her hand feeling up your forehead. “What else are you feeling?”

“I… mhhh… some smells are really irritating me. I wanna blame it on the headache but it’s been this way for some time now. I am more tired than usual, but I’ve been waking up early and sleeping late due to work.” You sat back up in annoyance, a need to pee dragging you out of bed for the 3rd time in an hour. You cut the conversation short, to pee, only to return shortly after.

“I can’t think of anything that would cause this. Unless you caught the flu. Why don’t you rest? I’ll bring you a plate in a few minutes, and check back on you.” She got up from the edge of the bed, grabbing the now-empty glass with her.

“Thank you, Belén. You’re the best.” You squeezed her hand.

She closed the door behind her, the room once again regaining its darkness. You were left feeling confused. You usually had a good immune system, it was Pablo you had to worry about, his immune system being weaker than a Victorian child’s.

The door opened for a third time. This time it was Aurora.

“Hola hermanita. ¿Como te sientes?” She handed you a plate of fresh fruits, followed by some French toast. “Saved you the last slices, before tornado Pablo got to them.” She winked down at you.

“Thank you Rora. Come on, sit on the bed.” You patted the spot next to you.

“I also brought you this,” she handed you a plate of bacon. “It’s turkey, since you don’t like pork.”

You enjoyed the food, chatting with Aurora about her plans for the day. You were halfway through your french toast when your face contorted in a sour expression. Something in the room smelled like rotten eggs and it made you feel sick. It took your nose a few seconds to react to the smell, before you bolted to the bathroom, the bedroom door opening in a hurry. Aurora followed you, worried at your reaction. She held your hair back as you threw up the food you had just ingested.

“I’ll go grab my mom. Take this in the meantime.” She grabbed the hand towel before wetting it with cold water and handing it to you.

Aurora made her way back to the bathroom, Belén behind her, just as you were washing your face.

“Aye mi niña, ¿que te paso?” She quickly braided your hair to get it out of your face. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

“Do you want me to grab Pablo?”

“Yes please.”

As soon as Aurora informed her brother of your state, Pablo bolted away from her face, skipping steps on the stairs.

“What happened? Why are you on the bathroom floor? Are you okay?” Pablo’s worried face reassured you. He knelt down to your level, bringing you close to his chest, his lips peppering kisses on your forehead.

“Why don’t you grab us some clean clothes? I’ll help her wash up.” Belén asked her son.

Pablo reluctantly agreed, leaving the bathroom.

“What caused you to throw up? Do you want some tea?”

“It was the smell of bacon.” You sighed. “I’ve been avoiding meat because the smell has been giving me nausea.” Your back was leaning against the tiled wall. You brought your knees to your chest, your head resting on Belén’s shoulder. You felt exhausted, sweaty and disgusting. Belén’s palm found your cheek, slowly caressing it. A few minutes went by before Pablo’s soft knocks against the door interrupted you. Belén stood up to take the clothes from him, before sending him back downstairs.

“Your symptoms could be the flu or a stomach bug. One of Gavi’s little cousins was dealing with it last week. Could’ve given it to you. Or maybe it’s the stress from work. I don’t mean to imply but… could you and Pablo be expecting a baby?”

You shook your head no. You were both meticulously careful when it came to protection. Having children was not in this year’s plans, although you were starting to get envious of seeing all the other wives with their babies.

“Food aversion, back pain, headaches, these were all symptoms I experienced while pregnant with Pablo. Take it as you wish.”

Your eyes grew wide in shock.

“I…” you sighed. “I.. Shit!” You buried your head in your hands, the memories from family’s annual barbecue flooding through your mind. “I mean, we never really discussed us having children right now.” You could feel the tears threatening to run down your cheeks, but you swallowed the lump in your throat.

“I mean, if I were to be pregnant, would I even make a good mom?” You broke down in tears. Belén hugged you as you sobbed. “I’m scared, Belén. I want to have a family with Pablo, but what if I’m not a good mother? What if, I just don’t have a maternal instinct?”

“Listen to me, no one is 100% ready to be a mother. But what will make you a good mother, is the fact that you’re already worried. You already care about this baby. You already want the best for it. You’ve got 50% of the job done already. And I want you to remember, you will have a village with you, to raise that kid. I think Aurora recently bought some tests, let me get you one.”

Belén got up from the floor, making her way to the door.

“In the meantime, why don’t you wash your face and eat a bite of fruit?”

She left you alone to gather your thoughts. You instinctively placed your hand on your belly, slowly rubbing it. Your mind imagined it all; the announcement, Pablo’s reaction, the gender reveal, baby clothes shopping, the baby shower, spending nights awake picking out a name, the long-awaited birth, and finally, bringing the baby home. It all made sense to you, and you were hoping it made sense to Pablo as well.

The bathroom door opened in a hush, Belén reappearing a little bit disheveled.

“Pablo is starting to ask questions. And you know the poor boy, he turns into a machine gun with words when he’s worried. If his questions were bullets, the house would crumble down. Here.” She handed you the test. “I’ll find something to distract Pablo with while you… pee on the stick.”

You sat down on the toilet seat, fearfully tearing the packaging apart. You felt the letters on the plastic wrapping taunting you. It was the moment of truth. Your could feel your heart skip beats. You were nervous, and scared. After peeing on the stick, you set a timer. You called up Belén and Aurora to the bathroom, claiming to need help with washing up.

“Is everything alright?” Aurora grabbed your hand.

“I might be pregnant. I’m having the same symptoms your mom had with Gavi. I just… needed to get this possibility out of my head.”

Aurora’s eyes grew in surprise, her arms grabbing you in a tight hug. Her grip on you loosened when the alarm rang.

“I’m scared to disappoint Pablo if the test is negative. Fermín and Pedri keep nagging him about how… envious… he looks when he sees some of the players with their families.”

You looked back at the counter, your stomach sinking at the thought of a negative pregnancy test. You wanted to fast forward time to avoid yourself the stress of finding out.

”I’ll look on 3. One, two… can you guys count with me?” You grabbed the test, making sure to keep the result hidden away from you.

“Vale hija, one, two, three.” Belén counted with you.

Aurora was holding her breath, her eyes shining with tears. Belén’s grip was getting tighter on Aurora’s arm. You slowly turned the test to read the result. Pregnant.

Your face beamed of joy as you showed them the results. You broke down in sobs.

“Oh congratulations hija.” Belén grabbed you in her arms, stroking your back vigorously. You looked back at her, tears flowing from your eyes. “You’re gonna make an incredible mom. Welcome to the team.” She kissed your forehead affectionately.

“Thank you for making me an aunt. You and Pablo are gonna make wonderful parents.” She hugged you, refusing to let go. You heard her sniffle. Pulling away from the hug, you saw her wipe a few tears from her eyes, eliciting a grin from you.

“Are you seriously crying?” You teased her, wiping your own tears from your cheeks.

“Well, obvi! You’re pregnant and I finally get to be fun auntie ‘Rora.” She gently nudged you on the arm.

Belén ushered Aurora from the bathroom, Pablo being long gone from the hallway. After washing up, you collected the pregnancy test and put it in your pocket before leaving the bathroom. You could hear chatter coming from the garden.

“Pablo? Could you help me please?” You yelled out from the bedroom window. Pablo nodded before rushing to your side, blasting through the garden and skipping steps for the second time today. He made it to the bedroom door, his hair in a mess, and his cheeks pink from the quick sprint.

“What’s up princess? Are you feeling better?” He closed the door behind him.

“I am. Can you… um sit down for a bit?” Your anxiety grew bigger as Pablo obliged. You didn’t want to back down, not when you knew it would make him the happiest man on earth. “I need your opinion on something.” You lied through your teeth.

“Is something wrong? Did you order new clothes online?” He playfully rolled his eyes as he sat down on the edge of the bed, nervously fiddling with his fingers.

“No dummy.” You giggled. “Why don’t you close your eyes? I have something I wanted to share with you. It’s a surprise.” You nervously bit your lips. The knot in your stomach grew wider as the seconds passed.

“You’re scaring me.” He laughed nervously.

Seeing Gavi laugh in that moment made you less anxious, your nerves slowly unraveling from the knot they were in.

“Close your eyes. C’mon close em.” You laughed against Gavi’s shoulder.

“Okay. Okay. Here I go.” He closed his eyes shut.

You took his hands and placed the test in his hands.

“It’s cold, plastic, very light… is it a makeup brush? You needed my opinion on a makeup brush? Well, what can I say? It’s-” He innocently asked. “Can I open my eyes now?” He sighed impatiently.

“Yes, go ahead.” You held your breath as Pablo’s eyes scanned the test.

The expression on Gavi’s face was… ambiguous. For the first time in your relationship, you couldn’t read Pablo Gavi. His face was frozen in shock. But within that expression of shock, you noted a tear rolling down from his eyes.

“You… You…We’re…?” Pablo couldn’t find the right words. His brain was still processing the words on the test. “We’re having a baby?” He said, before breaking down in sobs. He got up from the bed, running to you, before embracing you in his arms. “Oh thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I love you so much mi amor. Gracias por esto. Estoy muy honrado de vivir el viaje de la paternidad contigo.” He peppered kisses all over your face.

You giggled as his lips trailed all over your face. You stayed in the room for a few more minutes, Pablo’s hand refusing to leave your stomach. He kept kneeling down, his hands finding place on both sides of your abdomen, softly speaking to your growing child.

“Hola, I’m your dad. I want you to know that your mom and I love you so so much, and we cannot wait to meet you. Take all the time you need, but please treat your mom with kindness.” He placed a kiss on your abdomen. “I feel like telling the world. I’m so happy, I could yell the news on the rooftops! Who knows, who have you told, I mean, I have to tell the boys!” He stammered, his worries fusing from his mouth like bullets.

“Your mother and sister were there when I found out. But how about we start by telling your family?” You chuckled, leaving a kiss on his lips. Your hand was resting on his chest, gently stroking his chest. Pablo walked up to the window, whistling to get his family’s attention.

“Pablo what are you-?”

“I’m gonna be a dad!” Roars erupted from the garden as his family ran inside to congratulate you on the news. “I couldn’t wait to walk back downstairs.” He giggled, grabbing you by the hand, dragging you downstairs where you were met by warm embraces and kisses, and loads of congratulations.

Aurora wouldn’t leave both your sides as she celebrated with you. You and her spent the night looking at baby rompers, and nursery ideas, whereas Pablo had already communicated the news through the team group chat.

“Fermín and Pedri are fighting for the fun uncle title.” Pablo said, grinning. He had barely looked up from his phone since he announced the news. “Fermín wants us to name the kid Fermín Jr.”

Aurora and you broke out in a fit of laughter as Pablo continued to enumerate the possible names his best friend had suggested.

“Tell Fermín he is temporarily banned from naming anything that shits or breathes.”

“There is no way we are naming our daughter after Fermín.”

“Daughter?”

“C’mon babe, it’s clearly a girl. Plus, half the internet believes I’m meant to be a girl dad.” He sassily answered before diving back into his conversation with the boys. “We’ll name her Paola, after me.” He said under his breath, unaware you had heard him.

[sinning-23]

Piercings Pt.2 (Sanji x Reader)

First of all… THANKS SO MUCH FOR THE LOVE N SUPPORT ON THE LAST ONE! Nice to know we all love some Sanji lol.

Also if you want a pinch of context I suggest reading Pt.1 UHHHHH but if not enjoy this lol smut is one of my fs or things to write so uhhhh yeah! I hope I did good lol!

⚠️!THIS IS AN 18+ FIC MINORS BE TF GONE!⚠️

❗️Warnings❗️: Sanji being smug, choking, biting, cunnilingus, unprotected, p in v, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstim, sanji speakin that french

Pt. 1 here

Enjoy!

After the kitchen fiasco, you opted to keep yourself out of there until further notice. The wall ended up being scorched as well as some of the utensils he used. All the windows needed to be opened to clear the smoke out and it didn't help that the smell of charred food lingered for a while.

It has been about 4 days since then and every day you can't seem to keep your hands off each other. He's got his hands on your hips, claiming he just needed to get by with a quiet, "Pardon me, dove." His lips always dangerously close to your ear.

You were no better though, also claiming that you'd dropped something and needed to use his thighs for support when getting up, looking up at him under pretty lashes. This tension was that of a frozen lake, one misstep and you'd fall into him, hoping he embraces you like that of icy water.

Speaking of which, the burn you endured ended up being minor and the cold water did most of the trick. He insisted on bandaging you still. Just an excuse to touch you more.

Touch.

All you two ever did now was touch

And tease, and poke, and prod, in hopes of the other finally cracking and putting all that tension to good use. When you had docked at a smaller island in hopes of finding a marketplace (you did) Sanji didn't even ask if you'd join him.

He just took your hand in his, because it wasn't even a question at this point. You're with him unless you stated you wanted otherwise.

Walking past the vendors, his hand stays at your hip, more possessive than anything. You poin tout something you like? It's yours. See something you want to try? It's yours.

These days you're growing more and more concerned for his wallet. Anytime you'd try to decline he's simple shake his head, draw your hand to his lips, and kiss your knuckles.

"Anything for you, chérie"

The crew could sense this.....energy loomin' over the two of you but of course nothing was really said...that is until Nami nudged her head in the direction of Sanji when you two happened to be on the main deck this afternoon. You quirk a brow as she leans in to try and keep the gossip between the two of you.

"What really happened for the kitchen to catch fire? I mean?" She questions with a smirk, making you laugh, nervousness laced in the tone.

When you two first told the story, Sanji said he had distracted himself and took too long preparing other parts of the mean and he lost track of what he was doing and how long.

You, on the other hand, said that you accidentally bumped the stoved handles making the flames higher, and maybe a towel or something caught fire.

It was all bullshit.

When Sanji had taken it upon himself to plant kisses down your neck, he left something quite noticeable that wasn't there before. It was all bullshit and everyone knew it. You distracted him, and he just couldn't help himself.

"I-I told you what happened Nami. It doesn't matter anyway! The kitchen is back to normal thankfully." You sigh, trying to figure out what exactly you came out here to do?

Oh, that's right.

Find some way to get your hands on Sanji.

"If you say so, but,” Nami shrugs, pausing when she see's Sanji follow to the back of the ship, his eyes focused on you, pupils blown wide. He falters but only for a moment, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. Then he leaves, your breath stuck in your throat.

"I think someone's waiting for you to follow them so..." Nami observes, palm coming to hold your shoulder.

"Don't set anything else on fire." She teases, seeing you full on sprint to where he was.

You look around, the hall empty. He just went this way didn't he-

You're snatched up, mouth covered in the quiet of the hallway, a hand firm on your hip. Before you can even process your attacker, a set of lips is hungry against your own, a hand at your throat. You can hardly breathe from the shock, both teeth and tongues against one another as you embrace.

Sanji’s got you close against him, his back against the wall with your chest to his, one leg keeping your thighs apart as you lean into him. He still has one hand around your throat, squeezing just enough to make you whine, wanting more pressure.

The height difference makes you lean upward, itching to have all of him. Despite the hall being quiet, your little secluded corner is awfully loud with the sounds of your labored breaths combined.

"Sanji...Sanji wait-" You speak between kisses, his hands under your shirt now, immediately massaging the area over and around your back dermals.

"Ne parle plus, je veux juste te goûter. "

That shut you up, quick, the sound of his mother tongue slipping past his lips when he can't seem to keep his hands from wandering.

"What if we get caught." You gasp, feeling him bite down particularly rough on your collarbone.

"Y/n, know that right now, I don't particularly give a fuck. I need you." He huffs, still tasting every in inch of exposed skin he could find.

His lips are soft, brushing over your neck with a smirk. He knows the mess he left over your skin, bark bruises, and indents of where his teeth had been adorning it.

"They know the whole kitchen thing was bs." He chuckles darkly, his next sentence sinking straight to your cunt.

"I'm sure they're well aware of who you belong to now. I made your neck even more of a work of art honey."

You're practically soaking through your panties now, and are in dire need of friction. In an attempt to secretly get off, you grid down against his thigh...

But hes quck to notice.

"Oh, that's why you’re worried. Let's go." He exhales with a smirk, pulling you to his room and swiftly closing the door behind him.

It's not messy by any means, the bed is made neatly with a pack of cigarettes on the nightstand. You would’ve loved to look around more but Sanji is back on you and there was no way in hell you’d complain about that. He’s quick but calculated, sliding his hands under your shirt before pulling it off completely.

There's no time to be flustered, you'd both wanted this for quite some time now and you could both keep up with one another. Your skin prickles with he sudden chill of being topless, your nipples hardening slightly. It's just enough for him to see what else you were hiding.

Beneath your bra, were of course your nipples, but there they were, pierced, the bars through them being decorated with jade at each end. His breath hitches and god had he gotten impossibly harder at the sight. You're sitting on the edge of the bed now, Sanji kneeling before you with pupils blown wide.

All the permissions needed was the slight smirk on your lips and your back arching as if to invite him to touch and taste as much as he pleased. Without hesitation, he's got one in his mouth, tongue swirling around your already sensitive bud. The other he squeezes, thumb brushing over the area.

You can't help but sigh in pleasure, tangling your fingers in his hair while he makes it his mission to kiss all of your torso, noting the matching belly button ring. How did he not see this before? Well, most of your shirts were loose anyway. God he loved how adorned your body was with jewelry, like you were some kind of treasure just for him.

He can tell you're growing impatient with the way you push your hips forward, most likely trying to the feeling to relieve a little pressure with the way your pants pressed against you there.

"Let me taste you, please."He aks, breathless, lips still somewhat swollen from kissing prior.

You nod unable to speak with how damn pretty he looked. On his knees, eyes glossy and lustful, asking for permission to eat you out?! How could you say no? You lift your hips, sliding the jeans down just enough for him to pull the rest down.

You were right, your panties were damn near soaked, your arousal wetting the front. Sanji only moans at this, knowing it's all his doing. The feeling of him pressing kisses to your clothed clit makes you shiver, and he doesn't stop, tongue wetting the area as if to tease.

"Please Sanji, I need-" You pause for a moment, a bit embarrassed to ask for this. He only chuckles and runs his finger up your still-clothed folds, then massages the plush of your thighs.

"What do you need honey, tell me and I promise you I'll make it happen." Hes eager, kissing, sucking and biting at your inner thigh now, the feeling making you dizzy with desire.

"I need your mouth on me...please." You whine, trying to close your legs to relieve some of the pressure but he only spreads them apart again, strong hands keeping you there with a dangerous look in his eye.

"You'll take what I give you. Now be a big girl, ask for it, and stop chasing it, sweetheart." He thinks to himself "My mouth is on you. See?" He demonstrates, kissing your thighs again, one had on your hip, massaging circles there while the other tossed your leg over his shoulder, the action only spreading you wider.

Little shit. He knew exactly that you meant.

"No, you know what I mean. Please. Eat me, Sanji." You plead, feeling him smirk against your front.

He's got your panties off in no time. Almost immediately latching to you as he slurps you up, tossing your other leg over his shoulder now too. Your thighs act as a pair of headphones essentially, your fingers tugging at the blonde locks as he moans in response.

You can feel it now, your orgasm coming faster than you thought with how well he was eating you up. Like a starved man and his first meal in ages. He lapped at your juices, taking a chance at sliding not one, but two fingers into you.

"F-uck!" you stutter, feeling him curl upwards, still sucking at your clit.

He knows you're close, but he doesn't care, keeping that same pace to work this out of you. You can feel that damned piercing, rolling slowwwwly around your clip. Another cues slips past your lips. "Ohh, such a dirty mouth honey? Are you gonna cum for me? Can't even control yourself." He teases, watching you grip the bedsheets as your stomach muscles clench.

There it is.

Somehow his lips are back on yours, swallowing up the moans from your orgasm as his fingers slow in pace, trying to get you to come down from that high. Multitasking came easy to him, so for him to keep fucking you, now 3 fingers in while also using his free hand to push his own pants down was no hard feat.

How many times did he practice that??? Your hands are gripping his shoulders, nails digging into him in surprise when you feel the tip slide against your slick folds.

For a moment your eyes meet and damn do you have a chance to really, really look at him.

His face is dusted pink, eyes bright red. His eyes are glossy, pupils wide, lips shiny and slightly parted as he tries to catch his breath. He's no different than you now, admiring how you look, how you breathe, the way you cling to him like he'd vanish somehow.

It's intoxicating.

Your lips meet, softer this time, your heart beating like crazy with your stomach twisting in delight, full of butterflies. You're soft, and so is he, so much more gentle now in realization of what's about to occur. This means more to you now. It’s not a one time thing. You have no time to overthink because his voice, husky and passionate.

"Are you okay with this? Do I have permission?"He asks, pitch almost a bit higher, likes he’s holding back a whine.

Such a gentleman through it all. It makes your heart swell. You nod, whispering out an awestruck 'yes' before connecting your lips again. And the stretch when he slides in makes you both shiver, his hips stuttering into a pace, both his groans and your heavy breaths filling the space.

Impulsively wrapping your legs around his waist makes him thrust deeper. The feeling makes you arch, a louder moan slipping past your lips and it makes him chuckle a bit before succumbing to his own pleasure with a moan.

"Tu te sens si bien ma chérie" He whispers, your foreheads pressed together more intimately.

"Fuck, you fill me up so well." You whimper, slightly tugging the hair at the nape of his neck.

The action makes him moan back, teeth gritted as he thrust into you faster, his free hand coming to circle your clit. It's almost too much, another orgasm close behind. You'd never felt so full, his dick hitting parts of you that didn't know about. Perfect, like he was meant for your cunt. Your walls flutter around him and his thrusts begin to get sloppy.

"Oh gods, y/n I can't. Please let me fill you up chérie. Please-" He's pussy drunk, but you can say the same about yourself when he keeps hitting that spot. You're both bound to burst.

"Cum for me Sanji, please baby I need you to." You purr, bitting his shoulder, kissing the area to soothe it.

He's got his face in the crook of your neck now, a strangled moan leaving his lips as his thrusts slow. He doesn't stop though, still trying to work one last orgasm out of you and succeeds.

Your body is already spent from when he ate you out but this, definitely put you over. You cling to him, labored breaths all you can hear. He doesn't leave your cunt yet, trying to stabilize first.

"If you were worried about getting caught, I think we were loud enough for the crew to hear so." He chuckles, still fatigued. You shake your head with a smile pressing kisses to his face.

He takes his time pulling out, cum spilling out of you when he does. Your ears don’t miss the slight choked back moan when he does. It's quiet but it's comfortable. He leaves for a moment, bring a towel back to clean you up with. There are plenty of kisses here and there, most likely a pre-apology for marking you up even more then before.

He works quickly, dressing you in one of his shirts, which proves to be too big on you but neither of you care, his heart fluttering at the sight of you in it.

....

"So, nipple piercings and a belly ring, huh sweetheart?"

Tag List:

@minishimi @legalize-arson @vespidphoenix @kira-scarllet @princess-eddie @hobiesrockstargf @peachyminx @thefandomqueen2882 @kira-scarllet @coconut-jam-and @muppet-wannabe @karmazwrld @

[discopaddock]

SNOW, SNOW, SNOW - PIERRE GASLY

PAIRING: single dad!pierre gasly x polish!fem!reader

GENRE: angst

WORD COUNT: 2380

NOTE: im back finally!! sorry for absence yall i just had a lot of school and i was on a school trip so i wasnt using phone too much. hope you like this one, x.

WARNINGS: burn, missing child, my english, google translated french

If Y/N L/N had haters, Pierre Gasly was one of them. If she had only one hater, it was him. And if she had zero haters, that meant that Pierre Gasly was dead.

Y/N had no idea why Pierre didn't like her so much. If there was something which happened and it didn't have a good outcome, he would always blame her from their whole group.

And because of his father, Claude Gasly didn't like Y/N either. He was Pierre's mini-me so of course he was acting the same as his father.

I guess it was the 2023 winter break, when Y/N, Pierre, Claude, Max, Charles, Arthur, Lorenzo, Lando, Yuki and their girlfriends were together in the Alps and the little guy got lost in the woods, but I'll tell you about it later.

“Enzo, none of them like me so why should I share a room with them?” Y/N asked, when she heard that she was going to be roommates with the Gaslys.

“Come off it-”

“I'm fucking not, for fucks sake, I don't want to share room with them, they are going to kill me and I am fucking serious at this moment” she announced, making Lorenzo, Charles and Max laugh. “I can even sleep on the couch, just not with them,” she added, but then Max said that he can share the room with Pierre and his son, but she would have to share the room with Lando.

She had never felt so thankful in her life before.

Sure, Lando was pretty disgusting, but he was better than the Gaslys, who hated her.

“Hey, hey wait! Y/N!” Verstappen yelled to her, watching as she was running upstairs with her huge suitcase.

“Hey Lando! Guess what, we're sharing a room” the girl said, after entering the bedroom, where Norris was sitting on his bed, which was the one against the window.

“Oh, okay?” He said a little confused, but he didn't mind. He was actually best friends with Y/N, so he was happy about it.

“So um yeah, bye Lando” Max announced after taking his valise and he left the room.

And then the Gaslys had arrived. Claude was an energetic boy. He was full everywhere. And as I said, he was his father's mini-me, so he looked exactly like him; the same ice-blue eyes, brunette hair, a gap between the teeth. As if you did copy paste in real life.

And Pierre liked to have matching clothes with his son, so it was even more copy paste in real life.

And again as I said, Claude was really energetic. And because of that just after taking off his winter clothes and shoes, he ran to his, Pierre's and Max's bedroom, not looking around, so he collapsed with Y/N, who was carrying a mug with a hot tea. This story for little Gasly had a happy ending, unlike L/N, who burned herself with the tea and broke her favourite mug.

“Kurwa mać” she cursed in her native language with teary eyes and a red hand. She quickly picked off parts of the mug and ran to the kitchen and put her hand into cold water. “I'll clean it up in a moment!” she announced but Colette, who saw the whole incident calmed her down, saying that she would do it for her. Fucking hell

“Do you need anything?” Augustin asked, after she entered the kitchen and saw Polishgirl, who still had her hand in the water. “Could you bring me my makeup bag? I have ointment for burns and frostbite in it” Y/N answered and Colette only smiled, nodded her head and went to the room of L/N and Norris.

“How bad does it hurt?” Lando asked, when he entered the kitchen with Y/N's makeup bag.

“Really bad? I guess” the girl answered, wiping her hand with a paper towel. “I don't have any bandages, damn it” she announced, rummaging through the makeup bag.

“Lorenzo's must-have” and with that, Lando ran to the eldest Leclerc's bedroom. “Enzo said if your hand won't stop hurting at night, he will drive you to the hospital,” Norris announced, putting the bandage on his friend's hand. The girl nodded. Her hand was hurting like hell, but she was hoping that she wouldn't have to go to the hospital.

“Fuck, I don't have any mug now” she said after a moment of realization. “I need to go to the town” she said and started walking to their room. Lando followed her, saying that he could go with her. “Be careful with your hand” the boy said, which made the girl roll her eyes. They were almost ready to go, when someone knocked on the door. “Come in!”

“Y/N, I know someone that wants to tell you something” Collette announced after walking to the bedroom. The little boy stood in front of the Polishgirl and mumbled: “Je suis désolé d'être tombé sur toi” I'm sorry I ran into you

“Je ne suis pas en colère, mais fais plus attention la prochaine fois, d'accord?” she answered, crouching, so she could look at Claude's face. I'm not mad, but be more careful next time, okay?

“Je suis désolé pour ta tasse” the boy added. I'm sorry about your mug

He actually felt sorry for that situation.

Sure, he didn't like Y/N, because of his dad, but still she was always kind and nice to him and it was his fault that all of this happened.

“Je ne suis pas en colère, ne t'inquiète pas” she said with a smile on her face and Claude hugged her. L/N had no idea what to do. After a while she hugged him back and because of that, he gripped her even tighter. I'm not angry, don't worry

Finally the boy moved away from her, so she could go with Lando.

“Bye!” the boy waved at them, so did Colette, who had a warm smile on her face.

“I don't remember if little Gasly had ever treated you like this” Norris said, when they finally sat in the girl's car.

“Same, Lando. Like I- fuck, he never liked me” Y/N announced. “Like his dad. Because they act the same but you know. I didn't even think that he would apologise to me”

“Yes, yes, same. Like he never wanted to play with you when we were hanging out, he was just mean to you like Pierre” Lando agreed with her.

“Do you know why Pierre doesn't like me so bad? Because for four years since I met him he always treated me like shit and never told me why” she asked, but her best friend didn't know.

“Since Claude was born he became really protective over him. So maybe it's because he didn't know you before C was born? Like he considered you as an enemy because he thought that you would hurt his beloved son? Like the female defends her young” Lando explained and the girl had no choice but to shrug.

“I don't want to think about them, just let me buy a new mug” Y/N said and got out of the car, so did her best friend.

They came back to the house after two hours, because they also went to the bookstore just to watch some books because they felt the vibe.

“You two were on a date or something?” Charles asked when they entered the living room.

“Who knows?” Lando moved his eyebrows in a suggestive way with a smile on his face. Y/N only shook her head, also smiling.

“Good luck on your new way of life!” Yuki yelled at them, when they were walking to the kitchen. Everyone laughed.

Well, everyone except Pierre who shook his head with a disgusted look. How old were they? 5?

“Oh, Pedro, stop being so boring,” Yuki told his best friend.

“You act like you were five,” Gasly said, which made Yuki laugh even more.

“Why are you laughing?” asked Claude, who just woke up from his nap. His English was broken but as a six year old bilingual boy it was really good.

“Because of your dad, C” Tsunoda answered, sitting the boy on his lap. “He's really jealous, you know” Yuki whispered to the little brunette boy's ear.

“Why is he jealous?” Claude asked, also whispering. “Y/N and Lando,” the Japaneseman answered quickly and quietly.

Well, yes, Pierre was jealous about Y/N and Lando. He was jealous of their relationship. In his opinion, they were together, like they were dating and did all that stuff, which people in love do and he used to do, when he was in a relationship with C's mother, Héloïse.

He was also jealous because he didn't spend as much time with Lando as they used to before the Brit-Belgianman met the Polish Girl during her Erasmus in France.

Plus, Y/N was really attractive, like she had catched a lot of women's or men's eyes, so did he. He wanted to date her actually, but he was at lost point; he fucked up at beginning of their acquaintance.

So Pierre thought that there was no other option, than just pissing her off for the rest of their lives.

On the next day, the whole group went skiing. Some of them like Lando and Arthur were snowboarding also.

It was a fun day. It was the only time when Y/N liked being in the mountains the whole year. Because she was a sea person (just like Pierre).

At twelve, they went to eat lunch. L/N was sitting with Norris, Charles and Colette at the table, while Pierre and the rest were sitting at the other one. It was only because the big table where Pierre was sitting was too small to accommodate them all.

After lunch they went for a walk in the woods. It was fun, relaxing and the trees were looking amazing covered with the white snow.

Everything seemed to be a dream until Pierre realised that he lost his son. They were at the car park, when Gasly realised it.

“No Pierre, you're staying here with Yuki, you're panicking and you won't be helpful in this condition” Lorenzo said, looking into the Frenchman's eyes.

“We should start looking for him as quickly as possible, let's go” Y/N said and ran into the woods, so did Lando, Arthur, Carla, Max, Gabby, Charles, Colette and Lorenzo.

“They'll find him, don't worry” Yuki tried to calm down his best friend, who was crying.

“I fucking lost my son, I'm a horrible father” Gasly scoffed and rested his head against the car seat.

“No, you're not! You raise him on your own, he doesn't have a mother, so you have to be both for him and you are doing it really well. And it is common that kids are lost, when they are small like C” Tsunoda handed the brunette man a tissue, so he could wipe his tears.

“Yes, but in markets not in woods!” Pierre cried out. “I'm so awful. Like fuck, I treated Y/N like shit for these four years and now she was the first person to ran into the woods to look for my son. That fucking hilarious!” he said.

“You should apologise to her” Yuki announced, which made the other man take a deep breath before he started talking again.

“It's too late”

“No, it's not! Y/N is the kindest person I've ever met. Like if you tell her the whole truth that you like her in this romantic way, she will definitely forgive you” the man announced.

“Yeah and that's the problem. I'm grumpy and she is sunshine. I won't tell her that. She doesn't like me back. She's dating Lando” Pierre said.

“You're such an idiot, they're just friends”

And while Yuki was giving Pierre a lesson about Y/N, she was running in the woods just to find the little Gasly. It was getting dark so she was worrying even more about the little boy.

“Claude!” she knew that she shouldn't scream in the woods, but what could she do? She repeated the boy's name a few times, walking deeper into the wood. “Claude!” she yelled again and she was losing her hope, but then she heard a small voice on the left. She quickly ran there and found little Gasly, who was sitting under a tree with blue lips and red hands.

“Oh, Claude” she said and picked him up from the ground. The boy only hugged her and covered his head in her neck. The girl pulled gloves from her jacket pocket and gave it to Gasly to wear them.

She was terrified of his condition.

“I want Papa,” he cried. He was hungry, terrified and frozen. “I know, you'll meet him in a moment, I promise” she announced and kissed his head. “I was chasing a squirrel and then no-one was around” he said, which broke Y/N's heart. He was only six years old and it definitely was a huge trauma for him. “You're safe now. I won't let anything happen to you” she told him. “I think I know why my papa thinks you're pretty,” Claude whispered. “I heard when he was talking about you with Yuki in our living room. I think he likes you, but he doesn't know how to tell you” he added.

Y/N was shocked.

Pierre fucking Gasly was thinking that she was pretty.

“Do you like my papa too?” the boy asked and Y/N had no idea how to answer him.

“Well, he's nice” she only stuttered and started walking faster. It was already dark and she was worried that she would get lost too.

“We're here, Claude” she announced when they were ten metres from the whole group.

Y/N was the last person to show up (as always).

“Is Papa here?” little Gasly asked, but the girl didn't answer him, because both of them were hugged by no-one other than Pierre. “Papa!” Little Gasly gasped after he recognised his father by his smell.

“Je suis tellement désolé, Claude” the man said. “Et merci, Y/N, merci beaucoup” he added. I'm so sorry, Claude. And thank you, Y/N, thank you so much.

The talk with Yuki gave him a lot to think about himself, her and how he treated her and how he wanted to treat her.

[faketrex]

FirstPrince, 12

Thank you, Chrissy! 💝 For prompt number 12, "the beach at ten on a Monday morning."

RWRB, canon divergence: different first meeting, set in April 2016 (nearly a year after Arthur's death but still before Rio, and well before the first Claremont Election Day).

...

If Henry had been thinking ahead, he might not have adopted a puppy immediately before fleeing the country for a week.

His Royal Highness Prince Henry will undertake a Spring Tour of French Basque Country. This will include visits to…, per Royal Communications.

Translated, Unfortunately, HRH Prince Henry would have gone irretrievably off his bloody rocker if he had spent one second more suffocating in Kensington Palace’s gray cloud of mourning. Therefore, he's going away to convalesce by the sea for a tick. Best of luck to him.

Hopefully, a week in Biarritz will set him to rights. He'll return freed of the temptation to smash vases and tea settings and any number of priceless stolen artifacts for the sole purpose of eliciting any reaction other than pity.

David the puppy may yet have a penchant for breaking things, but he's cute enough to get away with it. Henry had grown out of such a forgiving stage years earlier.

At ten a.m. on a chilly Monday morning in April, the Plage de la Côte des Basques is nearly empty. It's too cold to swim, in Henry's opinion. David doesn't care; he bounds across the sand where the waves crest and crash onto the beach, zig-zagging on his lead and getting soaked in the process. Although he's much too small to swim, he's adept at making himself thoroughly wet and sandy and sharing those conditions with Henry by shaking his tiny body to fling water over Henry's rolled-up trousers.

Watching David play, it's easy to almost forget how he'd woken Henry appallingly early after a near-sleepless night–Henry's, that is. Henry had lain awake until four in the morning, staring at the ceiling. All the while, David had slept peacefully in his dog bed, curled next to a plush toy. He had woken Henry at seven a.m. without the slightest hint of remorse.

Luckily, he's adorable.

When they return to Henry's spot on the sand, he sits and wraps David in a towel, settling him on his lap to keep him warm. Aside from the waves, the seagulls, and the chatter from surfers carrying their boards across the sand, the beach is quiet.

Henry feels muzzy with fatigue and his heart aches, still, as it has for the past eleven months, but it doesn't overwhelm him. For once, the ache is more sore than sharp.

"Hey, can I say hi to your puppy?"

The boy is standing several meters away, likely in deference to the dark-suited PPO lurking nearby. He's close enough for Henry to get a good look at him, though: dark curls hanging in dripping ringlets over his forehead, a black wetsuit bearing the stylized blue wave logo of one of the surf schools, a sharp square jawline. The grin on his face doesn't once falter while Henry looks him over.

Despite the persistent ache, Henry feels his heartbeat quicken. He might be several meters away, but that's nothing, really; he's not so far that Henry can't recognize the danger.

A boy like that could set him on fire.

David wriggles in his lap, grumbling, and the boy's smile widens.

Henry should turn him away.

"Yes," he says instead. "But you'd better have a seat so that I can hold his lead. He's a very good boy, but he's rather excited to be at the beach today."

"Cool," the boy says, dropping unceremoniously onto the sand within reach of Henry's blanket. "I'm Alex."

"Henry."

The moment of realization as Alex connects Henry's name to his face to, presumably, his status as a figurehead-in-training, is painfully obvious: Alex's expression melts from friendly interest, to surprise, to hesitance.

It was too much to hope that Alex wouldn't recognize him. His accent sounds American, but that's no matter. Even Americans aren't unaware of the unfortunate persistence of the British monarchy. There's no denying that Henry has a famous face; if the monarchy hadn't cursed him to that, being Arthur Fox's son would have sufficed. Still, he wouldn't give up being his father's son for any of it.

Henry sticks out his chin a little and doesn't look away. "I'm Henry," he repeats. "And… this is David."

Alex keeps staring at him, but slowly, oh-so slowly, one of his eyebrows creeps upward. "Henry and David, huh? Are you two planning a hostile takeover of the fruit basket industry?"

It's nothing like any reaction that Henry could have expected, no mention of the Queen or James Bond. There's no pity on Alex's face, either, just the hint of a sly smile accented by the sheen of drying seawater. "I–what?"

"It's–you know, like Harry and David?"

"I'm afraid I don't," Henry says, unwrapping David's towel and setting him down, dry and slightly fluffy, on the sand between them. "And I said Henry, not Harry."

"What a waste of a great joke," Alex complains, but his grin has fully returned–at David's antics, surely.

"You should consider yourself lucky to meet him now, in fact. David is going to grow up to be an international rock star."

"Oh, yeah?" Alex holds one hand still while David gives it a thorough sniff.

"Exactly right," Henry affirms. "In the footsteps of Bowie."

"David Beagle Bowie, huh? That's fucking cute."

A sea cure, really. Henry has always been an Austen fan, but the dream of convalescence had only been a dark joke. But perhaps–well, he can't help but wonder.

And Alex, for his part, seems in no hurry to leave.

[citruswriter]

Food For The Soul

Listen with me! ↠ⁿᵉˣᵗ ˢᵒⁿᵍ ↺ ʳᵉᵖᵉᵃᵗ ⊜ ᵖᵃᵘˢᵉ

Warnings: Tcest (you have been warned!), Tcest x Character, The Bale AU, Fluffy Goodness, Polyamory.

Tcestween Prompt: Food

Pairings: Mikey x The Bale

If there was anything that Mikey enjoyed more than eating food it was making food, especially for his loved ones. It was a sort of love language for him. He adored making foods for people that held special places in his heart, keeping them well fed with good, home-cooked food that he made. Scratched the turtle instincts just right.

And that's exactly what he was doing right now. Waking up early and cooking food for his bale. Mikey didn't used to be such an early riser but as years got on he found himself enjoying the quiet of the mornings more and more, his only company being the sizzling of whatever food he was cooking and the soft lofi beats that gently played through his bluetooth speaker.

This morning he was making scrambled eggs, bacon, pancakes, fresh fruit salad, and fresh morning batches of tea and coffee. The spatula scraped against the pan as he made the large batch of scrambled eggs, throwing in different kinds of cheeses and spices. The bacon sizzled until it was perfect and crispy before he gently dished it up on the paper towel clad plate. Regular and chocolate chip pancakes were made and set on a platter. The sound of his cutting knife on the board as he made the fruit salad filled the air next as he tossed watermelon, strawberries, kiwi, banana, and blackberries together.

Everybody would be waking up soon, time to make beverages. Raph liked green tea with honey, Donnie would want his expensive coffee with french vanilla creamer and whipped cream, Leo would want his caramel latte with double espresso, Casey simply enjoyed cheap black coffee, and April would take a shot of espresso and a glass of orange juice.

Speaking of April... He could hear her pad in with Raph as he made his own oolong tea. "Morning, my loves." Mikey said cheerily and he was rewarded with a soft good morning from April and a kiss from Raph. Mikey handed them their drinks, Raph sipping his tea with an approving hum before he loaded his plate with pancakes and bacon.

Mikey giggled as April downed her espresso shot with a scrunch of her nose before chasing it down with a gulp of orange juice before snagging some scrambled eggs, bacon, and fruit. "Thanks so much, baby." She said sleepily, kissing his cheek.

Shuffling could be heard before Leo and Casey were seen, talking softly to each other as they got food and their drinks. "This looks so good." Casey said, digging into his food. "Smells just as good." Leo mumbled, popping some bacon and fruit in his mouth.

"Where's Donnie?" Mikey questioned and Leo looked up and blinked. "Asleep in his lab, I think. He was up pretty late." Leo said and Mikey sighed, making his way up to Donnie's lab to drag the purple banded terrapin down for breakfast.

"Donnie?" Mikey called out, walking into the lab until he found his mate. He could help but chuckle softly as he found his older brother hunched over and asleep on his lap table. Gentle fingers reached up to pry his battle shell off, tracing his sensitive shell and messaging it gently, causing him to stir.

"Morning, dearest." Donnie groaned out and Mikey bent to give him a kiss on the cheek. "Morning, babes. I made breakfast. Lets get some food and coffee in you." He said softly. Donnie groaned softly and stretched before standing up, allowing Mikey to drag him to the kitchen.

"He lives!" Leo said as Donnie sat at the table, earning a snap from Donnie before he nuzzled into his twin, earning him a kiss. Mikey piled up Donnie's plate before handing his food and coffee to him. "Here you go, baby." Mikey said softly before getting up to get his own food and drink.

As the bale sat around the table, waking up and murmuring softly to each other, Mikey couldn't help but feel his heart warm. Everybody ate and drank, scrapping their plates clean and slurping down the last of their drinks, thanking Mikey before loading their dishes in the dishwasher.

As they walked away with bellies full of good food, Mikey couldn't help but sigh lovingly. What a good morning it was today...

Mikey is such a little chef so I found it only fitting that I would center this prompt around Mikey. Ik it's kind of bad but I still think it's uber cute.

Taglist: @cherrytreatsart @yallshantfindme

[lumosinlove]

Christmas Eve Will Find Me

Seven: Finn

Sleeper Car

Somewhere Just Outside of Amsterdam

Logan was sleeping. He slept a lot, actually, so much that Finn found himself pausing before he left the room to watch him breathe. He lay a hand against the smooth wood of the upper bunk and tried not to feel creepy. This was Logan. Watching him sleep hadn’t been creepy for a long, long time. He slept on his side, one knee hitched up and meeting the wooden, cradled edge of the bed. His brown hair splayed against his pillow. Finn was having a hard time waking him for dinner. They would be in Amsterdam tomorrow morning and who knew what awaited them. Possibly not soft sheets and a warm room. Logan stirred, maybe just from the feeling of his gaze.

“Where’re you—leaving?” Logan mumbled without opening his eyes.

“It’s dinner time,” Finn folded his forearms over the bunk’s edge and rested his chin there. “Have to get up, sleepy-head. Have to get all fancy.”

“Ugh. You go, bring me back.”

Finn stayed silent long enough to watch Logan’s breathing even out again. He was asleep again, that quickly. He never fell asleep that fast.

“Logan,” Finn said softly, reaching forward to rub a thumb against Logan’s wrist. “Logan.”

“Hm.”

“I don’t…I really don’t want to leave you here alone. C’mon, let’s get out of the room for a bit. Talk.”

“C’est bien,” Logan mumbled, and Finn’s heart skipped. That was more like it. Half English, half French. Logan cracked one eye open. He turned his hand to pat Finn’s arm. “It’s okay. Have dinner. Come back. I’m really…I’m really tired.” A half a smile crossed his face. “And I’m dreaming.”

Dreaming. That was how many of his memories came back. They’d started a bit of a game out of it. Logan was tell Finn his dreams and ask what was true.

Neither of us can cook?

God, we really do live together. I dream a lot about us sitting on the couch?

Finn’s personal favorite: Who…Who is Martha?

“Have dinner,” Logan said softly, already pushing his cheek more firmly into a pillow. Come back and I’ll ask you what’s true and what’s not.”

Noelle. Who is Noelle?

Ice skates? Ice skating? We went?

Canadian? Am I? Or was that something undercover?

There was bad dreams, too. Logan would wake up and sit with a vacant expression on his face. Finn. I’ve killed people.

“Want something good to dream up while I’m gone?”

“Ouais.” That was better than an English yes. More him.

“Okay. All right…Well, here,” Finn whispered. He slipped a small piece of paper beneath Logan’s pillow. “Don’t lose that. I’ll be back soon.”

The crew had jackets that could be borrowed—apparently it was required if they was going to dine anywhere other than a private room at suppertime. Finn wasn’t sure why Sirius had chosen such a proper railway, but he didn’t feel like going alone. Not to ask for a jacket and not to eat rich food. After a moment of hesitation, he knocked on Leo and James’ door.

Leo answered with wet hair and trousers on—on loan from a gentleman down their corridor. It was amazing, what people would hand over at the horrific mention of lost luggage. They were dark and slim and fit him well, and his chest was still wet from the shower and—

Finn cleared his throat. “Hi.”

“Finn,” Leo said, surprised. He was holding a towel. “Hi.”

“Um. What’s up?”

“Well—nothing.” Leo smiled a little. “James is on watch near one of the tea rooms cause we’re about to refuel. Here, come in, come in.”

Leo and James’ room looked identical to his and Logan’s—James was just messier, and Leo was neater. His top bunk was made up and James’ was a ruin of sheets and crisp packets.

“Are you good?” Leo asked. He was standing by the mirror, putting a toothbrush back in a cup. Finn let his eyes trail over the broad expanse of his back and then realized Leo was looking at him in the mirror and felt himself warm. It was just Leo, but, then again, Leo had always been beautiful. He’d joked about it to Logan.

They’d been washing dishes. Finn rinsing, Logan loading them up.

“You certainly go away for long periods of time with very beautiful boys.”

Logan had rolled his eyes.“Finn. Quoi?”

“Take your pick,” Finn said. “I mean, Leo looks like a—a god of some sort.”

“You look like a god.”

When Finn had looked down at himself and his wet, soapy t-shirt and ratty sweatpants,Logan had grabbed his face with wet hands and kissed him.

“Finn?” Leo had turned to look at him. “Are you okay?”

“Oh. Sorry. It’s good. Lo is sleeping,” he said. I’m worried about that, he almost said, but Leo’s eyes showed him he didn’t have to. “I’m going to bring him something back. But I was wondering if you wanted to—”

“Yes,” Leo said instantly. He was reaching for a shirt.

“Oh, good. I don’t really want to sit there alone. With the…jackets and stuff, I don’t know.”

“No, no,” Leo said, then laughed. “I mean yeah, I’m starving. Just let me get dressed.”

Finn nodded. He sat down at the window seat and thought of the note he’d tucked beneath Logan’s pillow. I love you I love you I love you. It sort of scared him, that it could all come crashing back suddenly. Maybe he should have stayed. He didn’t want Logan to be all alone when he remembered. If he—no, when. He wanted to be there. He hoped he could be there. It would probably be overwhelming. Logan’s entire life, breaking through a watery surface. Or, if not the entire life, Finn hoped all the parts he’d been in returned.

“Okay,” Leo said. He had smoothed his wet hair back from his face with his fingers. Finn had never seen it pushed back like that before, out of his eyes. It was handsome—even more so when Leo smiled at him. “Ready?”

The dining car was half-crowded. Everyone was dressed much better—but, after all, they hadn’t been chased on board. Finn had been given a navy jacket, Leo a black one. They each had the railroad crest on it, as if the host—who had given them a disapproving look as he’d handed the jackets over—wanted the entire car to know they hadn’t come prepared.

“We’re being singled out,” Leo said, leaning down to do so from where he walked behind Finn. Finn felt the words against his neck, warm and with a smile in them.

Finn smiled, and the host caught them at it.

“Sir,” he said shortly, and gestured to a neat little table. It was covered in a crisp white cloth, white folded napkins, delicate silverware, and a glass-hooded candle—which seemed a little risky, but, given all they’d been through lately, Finn wasn’t sure he could call a candle on a train dangerous.

“Thanks a ton,” Finn said, mostly just to watch him sneer at his American accent. Leo widened his eyes at him, grinning as they slid into the booth across from each other.

“Your server will be with you momentarily.” The man didn’t wait for them to reply, but turned sharply back to his post at the front of the car.

“This feels like an Agatha Christie novel,” Finn said, unfolding his napkin and settling it across his lap.

“Don’t say that. Those never end well for someone.”

“Oh.” Finn shook his head. A waiter poured them water, ice clinking into the crystal glasses. “You’re so right. Sorry.”

“I’m joking, Finn.” Leo picked up his menu, blue eyes bright. Finn found he was suddenly biting back the urge to tell him he looked good.

Finn cleared his throat and picked up his menu, too. All in thin cursive. And French, apparently. Finn sighed. “This guy hates me, he gave me a French menu on purpose.”

Leo laughed. “God, no he didn’t.”

“Oui.” Finn said. “Lo would be dying laughing right now.”

Leo held out his own menu. “Here, switch with me, I can read it.”

“Oh right.”

“I should have pissed him off more,” Leo said as they switched. “He could have given me almost anything and I would have been able to order in it.”

“You’re more snarky than people know.” Finn smiled, scanning the items. Each one seemed to have ten ingredients. “Wow. Of all the times we’ve been to dinner, we’ve never gone somewhere this fancy.”

“We haven’t,” Leo said. He took a sip of water, but Finn sensed he wasn’t finished. “I…I missed that the most. Me, you, and Lo. Just. Just hanging out.”

Finn nodded slowly. “What was the last one? I’m having trouble remembering…”

“We went to that new bar? Like, two streets over from the university, we waited outside for you to get out of class.”

“Oh,” Finn said. The image of Logan leaned against the red-brick side of his building, Leo, taller, standing close and smiling at something. The two of them, looking up with a grin when he called out. Finn laughed. “And then, and then, people kept thinking you were my boyfriend, remember?”

Leo smiled down at his menu. He swallowed, and pushed his hair back out of his face. “Because we had the booth I guess, and Lo was in the chair across from us. That’s all.”

The conversation they fell into was easy—as it so often was with Leo. They hadn’t spent much time just the two of them until the one time Logan had been called up and Leo hadn’t. That had been one of Finn’s longest stretches—until Greece—of having to go without Logan. But Leo had stepped right up. He’d been right there to ease the chill of the lonely apartment. They’d watched movies, gone out to their favorite bookshop. Leo had even gotten Finn to master some of the most basic of his recipes. Whenever Finn itched to use the burner phones, trying to press down the urge because no, being lonely was not an emergency, Leo had called him up to see if he wanted to go for a pint after work.

This felt like that. None of the bone crushing sadness that had existed when Leo brought him Tupperware meals because they both knew Finn might simply cease to exist if they weren’t careful. Finn had felt it, he’d felt himself slipping away with each day he believed Logan to not share his world anymore.

Leo signed the bill to his cabin and sent a bright smile to the host as they handed over their dinner jackets. Leo’s had a sauce stain on his lapel, and they had both had to hide their laughter in their napkins when it had happened.

“My apologies,” Leo said in French, and Finn had to turn sharply the other way with a hand over his mouth.

Leo pushed the button for the train car door to open, then again after they crossed through the unheated in-between space. The roaring of the wheels became loud between cars. It made Finn nervous, being able to see the sliver of racing tracks beneath his feet. He kept his eyes on the back of Leo’s neck. His hair was dry now, back to being its light blond.

“Thanks for coming with me by the way,” Finn said as they passed sleeper car doors. He rubbed his palms together. Even that brief hint of winter air had chilled him through.

Leo looked back at him. “Of course. I mean…It’s been a while since we’ve…”

Leo didn’t finish, but Finn guessed he had been thinking along similar lines to his own. Been happy together. Had dinner together.

“It’s such a relief to be able to smile again while talking about Lo,” Finn said. He found himself reaching out and laying a hand against Leo’s shoulder. “Especially with you.”

Leo had just stepped into another in-between space when he looked back at Finn. The wind picked back up. The wheels went loud again. Goosebump rose all over Finn’s body and he reached out to steady himself against the wall as the floor swayed slightly beneath them. Slivers of moonlight got through to them and made Leo’s blue eyes look like lakes at night.

“I just mean,” Finn said. “He doesn’t feel—everything doesn’t feel so god damn far away anymore.”

The door ahead of them opened suddenly and they both jumped. They pressed their backs against the wall to let a couple pass, Leo saying a polite hello. Finn could feel the winter night curl its freezing fingers under his sweater.

A blast of heat hit them when the couple opened the far door, and then was gone again. It was just them and the train.

“He’s not,” Leo said, soft under the noise. “He’s not far away anymore. Not a world and not a phone call.” Leo tilted his head. “Just a few steps.”

Finn huffed out a laugh. “You knew about the phones, huh? Before everything happened.” Maybe Leo had seen them in the drawer, one of the nights he’d stayed over.

Leo arched a brow. “I set it up for him.”

Finn stilled. “You…What?”

“Lo came in one night,” Leo said. His eyes darted over Finn’s face. “I—Are you cold? We should—”

“No,” Finn whispered. “Leo. Tell me.”

Leo’s mouth moved like he was biting the inside of his cheek. “Well—I wasn’t supposed to. He didn’t want you to think that—to think that he was really worried about something happening. But he came in, and I wasn’t expecting to see him so I remember being surprised. And then he looked like something was wrong so I thought something had happened to you. But he said everything was fine.”

“Do you think…” Finn hesitated. “Do you think maybe this was the beginning of whatever led to Salazar wanting to…” Kill him.

“Looking back at it, maybe,” Leo said. “He wouldn’t tell me what was wrong.”

“But that was a couple years ago now.”

“I know.” Moonlight darted across Leo’s features, flashing like it was being blocked and revealed by passing trees outside. “I know. All he said was that he needed a way to contact you. Or for you to contact him. No matter what. And so I did it.”

Finn’s chest hurt. Leo said it so simply. So fiercely, so casually, like he wouldn’t get into horrible trouble of anyone at their agency found out. He’d done this for them. Just like the tracker that sat just beneath Finn’s skin. Just like he’d helped Finn help Logan. He wouldn’t let them lose each other again.

“Thank you,” Finn whispered.

“It’s…” Leo swallowed and looked away. “It’s just my job.”

“No…” Finn couldn’t help it. He rushed forward and wrapped his arms around Leo’s neck. “Thank you,” he whispered. He squeezed tight and then pulled back. “Leo, thank you. I can’t tell you—he found us because of you. He found us.”

Leo nodded slightly. His shoulders jumped like he was breathing quick.

“You let him come back to us,” Finn whispered. He laughed a little. He was crying a little. He leaned forward and kissed Leo’s cheek, laughing the words right against his skin. “You did it, thank you, thank you—”

And then Leo was kissing him. He’d turned his head, brought his hands around Finn’s waist and…Finn stopped breathing.

Finn wasn’t used to tilting his mouth up to be kissed. Logan fit snuggly below his chin. Logan wrapped Finn’s shirts up in his fists and pulled him down to his mouth. Logan pushed up on his toes and fell against Finn’s chest and wrapped his arms around Finn’s neck.

Now, Finn’s arms were raised around Leo’s slightly taller shoulders. His chin was stretched up. There was no need for tip-toes, but Finn would have been too surprised anyhow. Leo’s mouth was warm. Finn sank against his chest, his eyes slipping closed.

Leo pulled back, their mouths making a soft, breaking sound. For a moment, their breathing together was soft. Finn couldn’t feel the cold air anymore. The sort of calm he associated with Logan’s body had settled somewhere between his shoulders.

Then Leo’s blue eyes went wide. “I—Oh God.”

Finn could only stare at him. He let his arms drop.

“No, oh my God.” Leo backed up so fast he made the train door rattle. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“Leo,” Finn said. “Um. It’s okay—”

“No.” Leo sounded mournful. “No, that was anything but okay.”

He turned fast and with a hard hit to the door button and starting walking quickly up the train corridor.

“Leo.” Finn darted after him, praying none of these doors suddenly opened. “Stop, stop, it’s okay. Wait.”

“No,” Leo said, turning to Finn again when they had almost reached their doors. He dropped his voice to a whisper. He looked like he was about to reach out, but he pulled his hand back at the last moment. “God, Finn, I’m so—”

“What’s this now? Running in the hallways.”

Both Finn and Leo looked up at the unfamiliar voice. A boy was coming towards them. Finn thought he looked around Leo’s age, with brown eyes, olive skin and curling, sandy-blond hair. He was wearing a neatly pressed dinner jacket—one that he probably owned as it matched the rest of his suit.

The boy smiled, a wide, teasing sort of grin, and came to a stop a few steps away from them. “Who’s chasing who?”

“We’re sorry if we disturbed you,” Leo said slowly.

“Oh no,” the boy said. “If anything, I believe I disturbed you.”

Finn frowned. What? “Um. That’s fine. We were just…” But he wasn’t really sure how to finish that sentence. Kissing?

He glanced towards his and Logan’s door.

“It’s all right, Finn,” the boy said. “I’m not going to hurt Logan.”

Finn blinked. Had he missed something? Had he been so dazed by Leo’s kiss that he’d missed Leo saying he knew this person? Did he know Logan? He looked up at Leo, but Leo’s face were just as slack. As Finn watched, his expression hardened.

“Do I know you?” Finn asked.

“Nope,” the boy said.

“Who are you?” Leo’s voice was more demanding.

The boy just smiled again. “Don’t worry. We’ll see each other again soon enough.” He dropped a wink at Finn. “You know, Leo, you’re just as handsome in person.”

With that, the boy put a key into the lock of one of the cabins across the hall, right across from Finn and Logan, and disappeared into his room. The door shut with a loud click.

“Do you…” Finn stared. “Leo—”

“Go back to your room,” Leo said softly.

“Leo—”

“Later.” Leo put a hand on his shoulder. He had that look in his eye that Finn had seen linger in Logan when he first came back from a trip. Something was wrong. “Finn, go back to your room. Pack anything you want to take with you. I’ll be there with the others in five minutes.”

“Do you know him?” Finn glanced at the cabin door. “He said our names.”

“No,” Leo said. “No, I don’t.”

[jomiddlemarch]

When we fight, we win

Distantly, over the playlist you’d been singing along to with your hairbrush as a mic, the steam in the bathroom flattering both the wobble of your high notes and in the mirror, the jiggle of your upper arms as you toweled your hair dry, you heard a bell ringing. 

Not the landline your great-aunt Myrna had insisted on when she gave you the house for a song or roughly what you made teaching two credits of French lit at the community college. A chanson. Not the dryer, which had been on the fritz for the past six months, making you look at out at the postage-stamp sized backyard with its ratatouille themed straggling raised beds of eggplants, tomatoes, and peppers, and try to envision a clothesline along with the imaginary chiminea and swing you’d thought would be perfect, if you could ever justify putting any cash towards anything other than your student loans or measly retirement fund or taco Tuesdays at the dive bar six blocks away.

Not the jingle bells on the Christmas tree stuffed toy you’d gotten for your persnickety calico Bel-Gazou, who generally couldn’t be bothered to do anything unless sardines were involved.

It was the doorbell. 

And as much as you wanted to ignore it, it was possibly the repairman for the dryer, who said he might stop by but not to count on it.

You had no clothesline, and you did not want eau de mildew scenting your bedlinens again. Bleach had worked but then it had taken a good six washes before the lavender in your dryer balls conquered the smell of Clorox.

You got your wet hair bundled up in a clip, threw on cut-off shorts and a passably clean tee-shirt of some impossibly ancient vintage, likely your own freshman year when every pizza party and ice cream social seemed to have a commemorative shirt you grabbed because why not. You were barefoot but the doorbell rang again and you weren’t about to miss having the dryer fixed.

It was not Matteo, the regular guy, who couldn’t quite grow a mustache but hadn’t stopped trying.

It was not Ray, the old guy, the owner, who sometimes answered the phone and sounded like he’d swallowed an ocean’s worth of rotgut whiskey.

It was a stranger, a rangy guy in a worn pair of jeans with salt and pepper hair, flanked by two tween girls carrying clipboards, all three of them wearing navy Harris for President tee-shirts. The taller girl had her hair in puffs with American flag themed ribbon bows. The shorter one wore what appeared to be the oldest pair of Converse sneakers in the known universe.

“Good mornin,’ ma’am,” he said. You’d opened the door partway and you might have backed away, shaking your head, except for the hopeful look in the girls’ eyes and the purposeful cheer in his voice, which you could tell was not his regular tone of voice. He was Being a Good Role Model and possible also Being a Good Dad and it was already hot and you were going to vote for her anyway.

“Good morning,” you said. “What can I do for you?”

“We’re doin’ some canvassin’ today, for the Vice-President,” he said.

“Kamala Harris,” the older of the two girls said. Her skin was darker than his but she had something of him around the eyes, looked to be his daughter or niece, where the other kid, scrappy and built more compactly, seemed unrelated, maybe a friend or his girlfriend’s kid. 

“She’s running for President,” the scrappy one said. “Are you registered to vote?”

“Ellie, sweetheart, you don’t have to rush,” the man said.

“She looks like she’s about to slam the door in our faces,” Ellie retorted. She blew out an exasperated breath that didn’t budge the bangs stuck to her sweaty forehead. You wondered whether you ought to offer them some iced tea. Then you wondered if you had iced tea in the fridge. 

“No she didn’t, but she might now,” the other girl said, rolling her eyes. The eyeroll said they were relatives, possibly cousins, most like sisters.

“She wasn’t and she won’t,” you said, smiling at them all, ending with the man, giving him the Patient Smile of the Experienced Educator. He countered with a grin that said Can I buy you a drink, darlin’? and not the I know, kids these days one you’d been expecting. You wished, fleetingly, you’d put on some Black Honey lip-gloss or mascara. You wished that you had mascara that was not old enough to vote in the medicine cabinet of the Craftsman’s one full bathroom, where your 80s playlist was still belting out not to stop believin’. You willed the hair clip to stay clipped. 

“I am, registered, I mean. I just checked again last week, because they’ve been doing weird stuff, taking people off the voter rolls. It said online to check, so I did. But it’s a good question to ask,” you said, nodding encouragingly at each girl. Ellie narrowed her eyes at you but the other one smiled back. There was a moment of relative silence or at least, no one spoke. Saturday morning rumbled on, the sound of yardwork and radios playing in open windows, the very self-important terrier across the street barking a warning at a butterfly.

“Do you know your polling place?” the man said, both girls apparently derailed from their script.

“Yeah,” you said. “The middle school, over on Washington.”

“He could’ve been a king,” Ellie volunteered. “George Washington? Everybody liked him, he could’ve just kept on being in charge but he didn’t and that’s why we’re here.”

“Because of George Washington?” you said.

“Because of Kamala Harris,” the other girl said. Bel-Gazou, who didn’t like strangers at the best of times (which always included sardines and which obviously didn’t include this very sardine-free moment), meowed loudly. Audibly. You shrugged. Bel-Gazou was a calico with Big Cat aspirations. The girl gave you an appraising look. “Kamala, she stands up for everyone, including cat ladies with no kids.”

“Sarah!” the man exclaimed, almost choking. You were also almost choking, but with laughter.

“It’s okay,” you said. “I only have one cat, but no kids, so I guess I count. She’s got my vote—”

“You mean, we don’t have to ask what issues are most important to you?” Ellie said. There was a definite note of disappointment in her voice. 

“Duh, no, she already said she was on our side,” Sarah muttered.

“Reproductive rights. And climate change,” you said. “But you don’t need to persuade me. I appreciate you getting out there, volunteering.”

“We can’t vote,” Ellie said, frowning. “But we can do this.”

“You sure can,” you said.

“You wanna join us? Campaign’s lookin’ for more canvassers. They haven’t given up on turnin’ Texas blue. Or maybe purple,” the man asked. He had dark eyes and a wonderfully rumpled look, though he smelled good. So, so good and let’s face it, the grey in his hair was a turn-on. He was only asking you to volunteer, nothing else, no matter what your ovaries had to say about it.

“Maybe,” you said. “You need my email address? My cell?”

“I have a pen,” Ellie said, shoving a clipboard in front of you. Sarah huffed a little. You wrote your email neatly enough he could read it, though it would probably break all sort of rules if he texted you later that day, some sort of violation of canvassers’ HIPAA or whatever.

“I’m Joel, by the way. These are my girls, Sarah and Ellie. We’re canvassin’ for the rest of the day, then they’re going to a sleepover at their uncle’s. He takes them Saturday nights when I play gigs at Paloma’s,” he said.

“Oh, that sounds fun,” you said, pretending to yourself you meant the canvassing or the sleepover, not the idea of Joel playing something, maybe a guitar, singing covers of Johnny Cash.

“He’s single,” Ellie offered.

“But he’s got no game,” Sarah added. She glared at her father. “We’re supposed to be getting voters to say they’ll vote for her, for Kamala, not wasting time. This isn’t a meet-cute—"

Joel grimaced. His mouth was still screwed up in a wince, but his eyes were warm.

“If I’d been an undecided voter, you would have spent all this time talking to me anyway. And I said I might do some volunteering. I already write postcards with some other people over at the library on Tuesday nights, but I could try canvassing. Get out of my comfort zone,” you said. 

“That’s true,” Ellie said. 

“I’ve never written postcards, besides the wish-you-were-here kind,” Joel said. 

“Maybe, if you have a break tonight at Paloma’s, I could tell you about it. Bring a couple,” you said.

“Can kids write the postcards too?” Sarah asked. 

“Definitely,” you said. “You get a list of addresses and a message to write. You can write on your own or with your friends. No cursive, only printing, so anybody can read them.”

“Better with a friend,” Joel said. “We’ve got to be going, we’ve got another twenty doorbells to ring but Paloma’s. Eight. I’ve got decent handwriting.”

“Maybe I’ll see you there, then,” you said. 

“Hope so,” Joel replied. 

You smiled at him, watching him easy with his daughters, the sunlight catching the edges of the clipboards, Kamala Harris’s name bold across his chest. Hope was no longer something in short supply.