#Wood Pizza Delivery

[merciful-soup]

DAY 15 - PIZZA TIME!! I slept through yesterday, if yall are lucky I'll post day 16 tonight! UNUSED SKETCH UNDER THE CUT!

He doesn't know .

[timmurleyart]

Double pizza. 🍕🍕(mixed media on canvas)🧀🍅

[nerdyqueerr]

Butches love to flirt by saying stuff like "oh if you and your parents need an extra hand moving your firewood delivery just let me know" to cute ppl when they haven't even been to said ppl's house once let alone met their parents. I'm butches

[berizimi]

idk what to post so here's a bunch of stuff that I like

[tgirlwithreverb]

I saw that post about what to do if you're homeless again (the one that starts by telling you to spend all of your money on motel rooms lmao) anyway, here's a few thoughts, specifically for trans girls, cuz I don't really care otherwise tbh:

1) plan ahead, most trans girls are in precarious housing situations, you will have a much easier time when it falls apart if you already have a pack with most of the gear you need in it. Also, if you find yourself in a situation where you cant make rent, dont pay part of it, spend that money on gear, pocket the rest and leave, youll have a much nicer time. Look up your local eviction laws, you have plenty of time. (Gear list at the end)

2) travel! If you're in Arizona in May, leave. it's about to be hot as hell. If you're in Michigan in October, leave. It's about to be cold as hell. If you're in a big city, leave. It's way easier to be homeless pretty much anywhere else. Amtrak is cheaper and more comfortable than greyhound, hitchhiking is free and easy, if you're alone it's not that much slower than the previous two, and it's more fun, and sometimes people buy you food or whatever or give you money. I promise it's not scary and you're entirely capable of doing it, no matter who you are. 95+% of people who will pick you up are very nice. All you have to do is take the bus out of town, as far down the highway you can, to an exit with a truck stop if possible, then just stand on the side of the road with your thumb out until someone picks you up. You can stand at the bottom of the ramp(on the highway) near where the merge lane ends or at the top of the ramp(where there's usually a traffic light), the former is more likely to lead to cop interactions but will maybe get you a ride faster, check on hitchwiki for how the cops are in the area. don't be afraid to take a commuter bus or Amtrak to get out of a shitty cop area

3) skip shelters if you can (they are very occasionally a decent place to get stuff from) and encampments, good places to sleep include the trees near railroad tracks or highways, wooded areas behind shopping centers, sections of parks without paths, overgrown empty lots. Hang a tarp above you if there's an appreciable chance of rain, there's tons of YouTube tutorials on how to do this, maybe I'll make a post about what I usually do some day. There are many habits more fun than motel rooms, save your money for them lmao.

4) get on food stamps. This is easier in some places than others, but it makes the whole thing a lot easier. Just tell them you're homeless, if they don't give you a card the same day, you can probably ask to pick it up from that office, alternatively some drop in centers/day shelters can receive mail for you, or you can have it sent to general delivery(USPS service, look it up)

7) libraries are great for charging your phone and using wifi, but also keep an eye out, plenty of random outlets on the outsides of buildings are also powered

5) dumpster. sidewalk trash cans, Aldi, Einstein's, trader Joe's, pizza places, etc. You need to develop a bit of a sense for it but it's an easy way to get cooked food or travelling food or expensive food without spending resources. Also it's fun.

6) water is free, go into the bathroom of any gas station or grocery store in America(offer not valid in most big cities or on the west coast, but in that case just go to the library) and fill up your water bottle

8) hygiene notes: truckers get free showers from chain truck stops(loves, pilot/flying j) go there and ask them. convenient if you're hitchhiking, also you don't need to shower 3 times a day, really, you'll survive. Ditto with deodorant. Take care of your teeth though. Take your socks off every. day. Change them consistently. Safety razors give a good shave, work well without adequate water pressure, and the replacement blades are very stealable, they're kind of heavy though. Walmart makes these electric razors for women that take AA batteries and are pretty light but give a worse shave, also they kinda go through batteries, pick whatever works for you(cartridge razors suck)

9) traveling food notes: peanut butter is great, tortillas and bagels travel pretty well, tuna packets are pretty good protein for traveling(the ones with rice and beans or whatever are nice since theyre often the same price as the regular), condiment packets are free, hot sauce makes everything better, and mayo goes well with tuna and has a bunch of calories in it, salad dressing packets are free from truck stops and work well turning the Walmart shredded vegetable packages (labeled for making into slaw, next to the bagged salads) into a salad with real vegetables(not iceberg lettuce) in it or mixing in with tuna packets for even more calories than mayo

Gear world:

Necessary items(in order of importance): a gallon of water carrying capacity(an Arizona jug or other twist top jug is conventional, but a bladder+arizona bottles also works), a tarp(larger than 6'x9', not brightly colored), a hank of parachord, a sleeping bag (20° rated, synthetic insulation), a backpack with a padded hip belt(at least 50L, no more than 75), rain gear(a rain poncho might cover your pack too, a rain jacket can help with wind when its cold, a trash bag inside or outside your pack can keep it dry, a plan to watch the weather and not get caught also works), a z-fold foam sleeping pad, three pairs of socks, two pairs of underwear (at least one pair of boxer breifs strongly recommended if you arent incredibly skinny), a decent pair of shoes with good arch support, a functional jacket(skip if you got a rain jacket before), a base layer(wool or poly, absolutely no cotton)

Convenient items: a sleeping bag liner(cotton free, keeps you warm in winter and cool in summer), gallon zip locks to pack your stuff in(helps keep it dry and organized), no more than one change of clothes(as light as possible), a multi-tool(can opener, pliers, wire cutter), lighter(burning rope ends etc), spoon, floss and needles for patching

[julihlaufey]

Rainy Day in Gravity Falls (Stanford X You)

Stanley took the kids out for pizza on a rainy day. While Stanford and you found it the perfect time to enjoy the cabin in silence and with each other's company.

(Based on our dear Swooning Over Stans)

-------------------------------------------------------

I read someone saying that they can't find new Ford fanfics anymore and I noticed that too 😭 So I, who have been in the fandom since it was all in the woods, but have never written about our dear Ford, decided to try.

I apologize for anything, English is not my first language and I'm trying to improve! ⁠♡

・Warnings: Reader uses feminine pronouns and refers to herself as girl. Body unspecified.

Gravity Falls had a pizza delivery service. And of course, in a storm, it doesn't work.

The girl looked out of the window, watching the drops of water hitting the glass hard. The trees were shaking and the forest seemed much more dangerous now than when gnomes try to kidnap you. - The rain seems to be getting heavier... - She commented, still distracted. - And I don't know if I trust Stan behind the wheel.

Stanford laughed and she turned to see him coming into the living room with a tray containing two cups and a teapot. - I hope he's being at least decent.

She smiled slightly, trying to shake off the shiver that the thought of Stan driving with children in the storm caused. Stanford, on the other hand, seemed calm, even at ease with the situation.

He set the tray down on the coffee table and poured the two cups carefully, already used to his brother. Stan was reckless, he couldn't deny that. But he preferred to believe that his love for children was greater than his love for his own life.

- Not that he had much choice, right? The city's delivery service is practically an urban legend. If I hadn't seen anything yet, I'd believe the gnomes more than this. - He said. In his time as a researcher, Ford had already relied heavily on the local delivery system. And when it didn't work, he spent the night without eating because he refused to leave the hut.

He approached, passing one of the cups to the girl, his fingers brushing against hers for a brief moment, causing an electric current to overcome them, stronger than the lightning outside. - It's chamomile. I bet it'll calm you down.

She took the cup, with a shy smile on her face, feeling the warmth and the soft aroma of the drink, a mixture that seemed appropriate for a stormy night.

- Thank you. - She replied quietly, looking at Ford. - I'm still amazed at how you manage to find these situations funny, even after everything.Stanford shrugged, a glint of familiarity and curiosity in his eyes.

His body stopped behind hers, looking out of the window. His body emanated warmth, and he slipped his arm around her back, resting his hand on her waist..

- And I'm still amazed at how you adapt to every new peculiarity here. - He replied. - Who would have thought that someone from outside would have the courage to face even a storm in the middle of this forest?

She laughed, pulling him closer for warmth, while the light in the living room enveloped them in a cozy and safe atmosphere, even with the chaos outside.

- I guess after having my car hit by a giant sign, I learned that Gravity Falls isn't like the outside. - He joked, his tone humorous, causing Ford to laugh next to his ear, placing a tender kiss on his neck.

- You'll never forgive me for that, will you?

The girl laughed, shaking her head and returning to the subject. - Well... maybe I've just got used to the stranger. - She answered, her eyes wandering to the window. - Or maybe it's because... I feel like I'm with the right person to deal with it.

The last sentence came out more sincerely than she had expected, and she held her breath, realizing the weight of that admission. Stanford was silent for a moment, his gentle eyes resting on her.He then tilted his head, a slight smile on his face, and said:

- In that case, I hope I don't disappoint you.

--

I'm taking requests. Thank you so much for reading and I'm open to constructive criticism on how to make reading sound more fluid and natural in English!

[bellesdreamyprofile]

pizzas & coffees - austin butler

summary: two souls find a way to each other again after having worked together on various movie sets - inspired by the late night conversation between jim and pam in the office (s3/e5)

There is nothing quite like the behind-the-scenes of the making of a movie. The lights, the special effects, the scripts left unread on make-up stained benches. Directors, stunt-doubles, background actors — all people that shared words of wisdom with you and you loved it all. 

There was no place for you in the movies, but you still wanted to be part of that business. You were fortunate enough to know some friends, who were actors, and they were the ones that introduced you to the life on set. It first started with a simple coffee delivery, which resulted not to be that simple at all. Espressos, macchiatos, cappuccinos — not enough milk, sugar or cream. So you asked to be switched to lunch and dinner deliveries instead.

Caesar Salad — Laura

Chicken Salad — Mark

Salad (no onion) — Josh

Pizza — Austin

You were handed the order and without glancing at it twice, you made your way to the local restaurant. Once at the place, you patiently waited in line and made the order. Legs crossed as you waited for the pizza in the wood oven, the salads were packed up and ready. You glanced at your note and let out a little chuckle at Josh's specification of no onions. This wasn't the first time you were grabbing lunch for the main actors, so you were pretty familiar with these people's tastes and preferences. A quick, light salad so you could get back to work.

Your eyes did another quick scan of the note, a result of faint anxiety of getting the orders wrong. Pizza for Austin. Odd. He was the first one to have introduced the whole cast to these specific salads. The thought was quickly dismissed at your number being called, and just as quickly as you had arrived to the restaurant, you were back to the set.

A quick knock to Laura's trailer to let her know that her salad was here. A small smile to Mark, the oldest member of the cast and a quick joke at Josh's order. Austin's order was the last one. 

You couldn't help but release a shaky breath, for that was a man you always seemed to be flustered around. It all started with your coffee deliveries — him personally giving you his order and then his fingers brushing with yours as you handed him his beverage. And that smile. Oh, that smile. He always seemed to be smiling with his eyes too — the blue would shine a little brighter. It kind of drove you crazy in the best way possible.

You knocked on Austin's trailer and gripped the pizza carton a little tighter. The door opened within seconds, making you look up only to see the most beautiful smile in his face.

"Hey.", he smiled. "Thought I heard your joke at Josh's trailer.", he continued.

You laughed a little and nodded. "Yeah, his specific no onion salad. Here's your pizza.", you handed it to him and he grabbed the carton, pausing for a moment.

"I, uh, I ordered a pizza thinking we could share it? If you haven't had lunch yet, that is."

You looked up again, feeling frozen. The Austin Butler asking you to share his lunch with you? Ordering pizza specifically so you could share it. Just— unbelievable.

A smile broke on your face as you nodded at him. "Yeah, I'd like that very much."

That was the start of your story. You only seemed to hear Austin and Y/N this, Y/N and Austin that. Every lunch break Austin had, automatically became yours too. The last name on the list didn't have just one order, it started having two. Two salads and two pink donuts, one pizza and two sodas. You were inseparable. Until you weren't.

The movie wrapped and Austin found a way to get you to his next set as well. There was something about the two of you that was so good yet so fragile as well. The more time you spent together, the worse it was when you were forced to spend time apart. You were magnets that couldn't stay apart — and you didn't want to either.

The pain of being away from each other became the feeling you were holding onto whenever seeing each other was too complicated. And that pain was what you started associating your relationship with. 

Austin's next project had started and he debated whether or not to ask for you to be moved into the new set. But he loved you still and you reciprocated the feelings, so you were doing more deliveries. The lunch breaks weren't the same anymore — the pizza didn't taste as good and the salads had too much onion.

Your relationship ended right where it began.

A year of lunch and dinner deliveries later, you decided that this was going to be the last set you worked at. Maybe the words of wisdom weren't wise enough or you were just too tired of the same meaning hidden behind different words. 

You shared a small office with Martina, the girl who did coffee deliveries. You sat down on your chair and let out a deep sigh, your hands pulling at the roots of your hair. Today was exhausting — and yes, even delivering salads can be a tiring job. You had just finished with dinner deliveries and it was relatively late. At least later than you were used to.

The phone rang, a groan escaping your lips as you picked it up.

"Hi, this is Y/N.", was your automatic response. You expected another order or some forgotten coffee to help with the night shootings. But there wasn't anything like that.

"Hi, Y/N.", the familiar voice made you sit up straighter. "Didn't think you'd still be on set."

A knot formed in your throat. "Yeah, late night shootings.", you answered, unknowing where the conversation would lead.

"Ah, yeah. Those midnight cravings.", Austin said in a light tone, making you laugh a little.

"Exactly those, yeah. Today was Greek salad and a chocolate brownie. The ones with extra fudge.", you explained as a small smile made its way on your face.

Austin let out a shocked gasp. "Wait, the brownies from that gas station and the Greek salad from that small place downtown?"

You laughed and nodded, your finger curling around the telephone cord. "Precisely that one, Aus."

"No way you drove around for an hour just for a brownie.", he laughed and you couldn't help but imagining him with his cheek leaning into the palm of his hand.

"It's not just a brownie, Austin. It's the best dessert. In this area at least."

The conversation was easy and you both fell in the all too familiar rhythm. You smiled and shed a few tears from laughing too hard. You missed it, but you couldn't admit it. Not to you and definitely not to him.

"And then I said that I had the same jacket in a different color. In a different color! Who says that, Y/N? I just wanted to slap myself, honestly.", you laughed, shaking your head at Austin's silly story.

"Who says that? You and you only, Austin Butler—", the door opened and your gaze snapped in that direction. An overly exhausted Martina huffed from her position and shut the door with her foot.

"I'm just gonna grab my stuff and run away.", she said, collecting her things. You raised an eyebrow and smiled a little at the coffee stain on her skirt.

"Bad day?", you asked the most obvious question. She shot you a look and blew a kiss with her middle finger, opening the door again.

"Y/N?"

You laughed at her and waved. "Bye."

"Oh, okay, I, uh... Right, I should go.", you blinked and readjusted the phone against your ear, forgetting Austin for a moment.

"I was talking to my friend, sorry.", you apologized, but even just his little sentence made you realize that the magic had vanished. "I mean, if you wanna go... I guess it's kinda late.", you glanced at the clock on the wall. It was two a.m. You had been talking for over two hours.

"Yeah, I guess, uhm... I'll hear from you soon?", it wasn't hard to detect the strain in his voice. You felt tears brimming in your eyes and you desperately tried to blink them away.

"Sure.", you agreed, not able to give him more than that. You heard him sigh on the other end.

"Good night, Y/N."

"Good night, Austin."

A/N: literally was watching the office and jim & pam's conversation sparked something in me. the one shot ends more or less in the same way of the episode, so let me know what you thought and if you´d be interested in reading a part 2! love you 💋🤍

MASTERLIST austin masterlist

austin 2025 digital calendar 🎀

[starsareshinning]

High School AU: What year everyone is in and some Info

SENIORS

Annalise Lusen Mia: She’s a student nurse that had an opportunity to learn from the nurse working at Proxy High. She took it now she goes to the nurses office whenever she can to learn and help out.

Liu Woods: Moving from Ottawa to Toronto he’s brand new to the district and city. Liu looks like your average loser, but he’s much more. A lot more social.

Helen Otis: Helen was actually sent to jail for attempted murder. He lied and manipulated his way through, pretending he was getting better. He is now back in Proxy High. He has a weird obsession with blood.

Candy Pop: Funky little jester who looks as if he’s ready to catch Pokémon! He was born in New York but now lives in Toronto Canada with a weird man (human Night Terrors) who he avoids by filling up his free time with after school activities.

Nathan Maxwell Lux: Goth guy who’s a hater and can be a bitch. He’s also Candy Pop’s best friend and neighbor, which can suck because Candy Pop is annoying as hell. But they get along. Somehow.

Dina Angela Clark: Dina is known for being a sweetheart, her whole reputation was built upon her sweetness. She helps out whenever and whoever she can. Everyone calls her an Angel. However, just because she is an angel, doesn’t mean she’ll let people walk over her.

Kagekao: School’s one and only plug. I’m not kidding when I say that. Kagekao provides people with drugs and alcohol, though he only provides it to trusted and known people. Ones who won’t snitch. He’s also one of the rich students that attends Proxy High.

Jason Meyers: Honor student. His parents expect highly of him, and so his own exceptions of himself are high. Though his wish is to be a toymaker, he knows his parents would kill him if he ever said that out loud. Jason gets bullied because he is: British, a born red head, self-centered, and worst of all…he wears a top hat.

Ciara H. Callaghan: In a loving and healthy relationship with Nathan. She’s a confident student, doesn’t let anyone mess with her or someone she care deeply about. Lives with Candy Pop and (human) Night Terrors.

JUNIORS

Alice Marie Jackson (Zero): Alice prefers to go by Zero. Her adopted father is abusive to her so she usually spends her nights at Kagekao’s rich ass mansion. It’s gotten to the point where she can be called a roommate.

Jack Nyras: Most people dislike him because of his personality. Which is sarcastic while also being a smart ass. Group projects with him? You won’t be doing anything. He does all the work. He chooses to do all the work just because he doesn’t trust anyone else. Despite this, he can be caring for some people. He lives with his three siblings and older cousin.

Jonathan Blake (The Puppeteer): He’s sort of a sad little man these days. Found out his girlfriend cheated on him, but he has his best friend Helen Otis. Jon likes instruments and arts! He works as a delivery person. Delivers pizza at night and newspaper in the morning.

Laughing Jack: Schools personal clown. People either hate him or love him, he pulls pranks on anyone, anything, and everyone. No one is safe from him. Not even the teachers! He’s gotten in trouble because of his pranks. Oh and. He’s most likely never going to graduate. So. Have Fun LJ. His childhood best friend who was Issac Grossman turned out to be a serial killer, so that fucked him up a bit. But, he distracts himself with jokes and avoids people who want to question him about it.

Laughing Jill: She is Laughing Jacks twin sister. She’s the better twin. She does pull pranks, however her pranks only targets assholes like school bullies! Sometimes she gets pulled into LJ’s shenanigans. She does ballet after school!

Jane Richardson: She’s in a relationship with Mary. She’s also an honor student! Jane doesn’t mess around with her grades, she does everything on time and completed. She wants to make her parents proud (they already are).

Natalie Oullette: Natalie is known for getting into fights. She’s a sucker breaker through and through. She skips most of her classes and leaves the school when it gets to lunchtime. Her family is a mess which she avoids ever interacting with.

Sophomores

William Grossman: Will loves crime podcasts, especially the ones that talk about his cousin: Issac Grossman. He works at a hotdog stand at the malls food court, needing money because he’s poor. He gets bullied because he’s poor. It’s not fun.

Jeffery Alan Woods: Liu’s younger brother who helps Liu sneak out of the house occasionally. Jeff is a closeted homosexual who wants to become emo, but unfortunately cannot because of how strict and religious his parents are. He hates going to a new school because he has to make new friends, and that’s a bit difficult to do when you keep moving.

Frankie: He has an alcoholic deadbeat father who uses the money he earns to get more alcohol. And his mother is a junkie that won’t quit doing drugs. So to provide for him and his little sister, he sometimes steals his parents booze and drugs to sell them on the streets. Frankie sometimes works at the mall as well. Part time worker.

Cody Richards: Cody is a science and biology nerd. His adopted father is a famous scientist so he wants to follow his legacy. However he’s also a straight forward guy who will insult anyone who annoys him, even when they’re right in front of him.

Tobias Erin Rogers: Toby’s parents are going through a divorce, which meant he could no longer stayed homeschooled. It was a hard decision, but his mom had to let him go into public school. Toby’s excited to start his first year at Proxy High! (Oh he’s so cooked.)

Freshmen

Nina Hopkins: Nina runs the biggest gossip blog, she’s been running it since elementary. She knows everyone and everyone knows her. Because her parents are busy she lives with her grandma and her little brother, Chris.

Kate Milens: Kate is sort of a social student! She talks to anyone that she thinks is interesting enough. When she’s not talking she listening to music and sketching on her sketch book. She likes hearing Nina yap about her blog.

Vaughn Pavel Volikov: Or more known as Vine is a very sad and traumatized student. His foster parents sent him into public school. He hates interacting with older men that isn’t Papa Grande (who he finds comfort in). Once he’s at the age of eighteen he inherits his father’s fortune.

[bitch-for-a-rainbow]

Day 14: Left for Dead

Kara is not having a good time. Well, no. She is. It’s a great time. She hasn’t had this good a time in months. It’s just— Well it’s the first proper sisters’ night since Alex got her memory back. And Kara likes hanging out with everyone, of course, she does! But Kara and Alex have barely had a moment alone since her sister started throwing grass at her corpse in the woods by Eliza’s house. And that, y’know, that feels like something they should talk about. A bit. But Kara’s not really sure how to mention that casually, and Alex certainly isn’t bringing it up.    Kara grabs another pizza from the kitchen counter and pivots toward her sister in a totally graceful and not at all awkward manner. Kara’s a big girl. She can do it. She can. She can rip off the band-aid. Kara opens her mouth to speak— 

And snaps it shut as the world shifts and becomes suddenly dull. Kara can still hear Alex chewing, can still hear her phone blasting top-2000s hits, but the city is silent. The cacophony of traffic, conversation, and sirens, the ever present crashing in the back of her skull subsides to a low buzz. Alex is staring at her from by the couch, eyebrows raised in silent confusion. Wrong. Kara’s brain screams. WRONG! She hears the door open and turns to look— 

The first bullet catches Kara square in the face. 

Kara’s cheek erupts in pain. Her head yanks to the side and she has enough time to see Alex’s eyes widen and then a sound like hail cracks through the air and Kara is suddenly laying on her back on the floor, something hot and wet soaking through her dress and she thinks for a moment she might be on fire. 

She reaches up, slapping a hand into her face and finds a hole where part of her jaw should be. There’s something pressing into the back of her throat. Her mouth is filling with blood. She can hear footsteps, closer and closer. It doesn’t sound like Alex. She can’t hear Alex. Kara tilts her head to the side. There’s a hand poking out from beyond the skirt of the couch. The fingers aren’t moving. Blood makes a steadily growing puddle around Alex’s wrist, spreading past her palm, past her fingers. 

Kara tries to speak, to call out. All that comes out is a wet gurgle. Her face is on fire. She can’t feel her tongue. Blood drips down her throat and she gags. 

There are voices arguing now, and she turns her head to see. Two men in the doorway, faces covered. Their whispered curses seem pointlessly quiet after the echoing gunshots. 

“Fuck. Fuck! What the hell do we do now. She was supposed to be home alone!” 

“It doesn’t matter now. Just get it done. Help me with these drawers.” 

Out of the corner of her eye, Kara sees one of them start ripping out Alex’s kitchen drawers, upending their contents on the floor. Though the panic and fog in her mind, Kara tries to think. A burglary? Blood drips down Kara’s face. No. Not a burglary. They have a power-dampener. The other man is approaching now, cocking the pistol as he does. 

“What are you doing?!” The first man hisses. “What part of not like an execution isn’t getting through that thick fucking skull?” 

The second man’s face is still covered by the scarf, but his eyes look down at her with pity. He doesn’t move the gun from where it is pointed at her head.

“She’s choking, man. Just let me put her out of her misery.” Now that he’s closer, the voice is clearer. She knows him. One of the new DEO recruits. Pulled from the marines, Kara thinks, Sanders or Stewert or something like that. 

The other man steps back over to get a better look at her. He huffs, throwing up a hand as he says, “Look at her. She’s wouldn’t make it to the hospital even if the ambulances were coming. Just leave her be. She’ll be gone in a few minutes.”

Stewert hesitates, then holsters his weapon. “That’s fucked man.” 

He empties Alex’s coffee table drawers on his way out, pocketing the cash she’d kept there for delivery. 

The first man presses something on his ear under the scarf— they have comms— and says, “Jenny, this is Mabel. Made delivery. Address was incomplete. I repeat, address was incomplete. Heading to back to office now.” 

Code names. Jenny. It’s familiar, Kara thinks. Familiar why? Her thoughts have gone sluggish. If she stays awake maybe she can reach her phone. It fell. Where did it fall? Under the couch? She tries to speak again. Her jaw won’t move. The fuzziness has spread to her hands. It’s so hard to breathe. So much work. She has to stay awake. She has to...

Kara wakes with a painful jolt to an explosion of sound. The city seems to have come alive in her ears. Beneath the cacophony, a soft, quick thudding. It’s a good sound. A comforting sound. Kara clings to it in the ocean of noise that screams for her attention. She tries to inhale and chokes on a mouthful of blood. Coughing, she rolls onto her stomach. The itching wetness in her lungs won’t clear. She coughs again and a bullet clatters onto the floor beneath her. 

Right, her foggy brain supplies, she’s been shot. 

Her stomach hurts. No. More accurately her stomach feels as if it has been stung by approximately 30 bees. Scratch that. She’s not sure what a bee sting feels like exactly. Her stomach feels like she’s being repeatedly bitten by a Kaithurian Beetle. 

She reaches down and finds holes. Plural. 

Kara knows what comes now. Dread turns her thoughts slippery and hard to hold. Her mind reaches for comfort, but the thudding is growing quieter. Kara’s sharp breaths sound like lightning strikes to her own ears. She can’t focus. 

Shaky on one arm, her right hand finds the wounds again. She just has to start. It won’t take long. She just has to start. Like Cat always said. Just dive. Just dive. Just—

The groaning cry tears itself from her throat as she presses into the wound. Her mind goes white. Flesh bends and tears beneath her fingers. Black spots dance in her vision. She reaches deeper and vomits onto the stained floors. The bullet squelches out and into her trembling hand. Kara presses her face onto the floor and gasps for breath. It’s easier now. But not completely healed. 

Blood dripping in her eyes, Kara grits her teeth and reaches for the other wound. 

Slumping to the floor, Kara finds that she can see again. With this comes another new awareness. She’s laying on Alex’s floor. But if this is Alex’s floor, then where is— 

Panic splits her mind like an overripe melon. 

Kara scrabbles across the floor to Alex’s limp hand. Alex’s heartbeat, that low, comforting sound, thunders in her ears too fast and too weak but still going. Alive. Alive. Alive. Her skin is cold and clammy but her blood is hot on Kara’s hands. She needs a hospital. 

Kara lifts her hands away from Alex’s chest to try and lift her but blood rushes between her fingers and she presses back down. Pressure on the wound, Kara thinks, desperately forcing her uncompliant brain to Alex’s first aid lessons. Something to pack it with. What does she have? What does she— 

The throw blanket on the couch rips in half with as Kara yanks it down, but that’s okay, she needed a smaller piece anyway. Roll it to create your anchor. How hard does she push it in? How hard will rip Alex open instead of holding her together? 

Alex doesn’t make a sound as Kara shoves the blanket into her wound. Kara can’t decide if she’s glad Alex isn’t awake enough to feel it. And then Kara has her up in her arms and rockets out of the apartment. 

Kara hurtles into the emergency bay, only barely remembering to land before she hits the doors. Then there are doctors and questions and nurses lifting Alex from her arms. 

What’s your name? Where were you? What happened? and then How long was she bleeding? 

Kara doesn’t know. She isn’t sure how much time had passed from that moment she lay on the floor to when she woke up. Kara isn’t sure how long she left Alex alone on the floor to die. 

The police arrive. Maggie rushes through the door with a flushed face that says she’d been running since she got the call. She makes eye contact with Kara in the waiting room and for a moment, Kara thinks Maggie may burst into tears. Then her partner arrives, a wary expression that says he knows exactly what kind of conflict of interest this is, and Maggie collects herself. 

The story she tells is simple. Alex always told her to avoid complicated lies. Burglary gone wrong. Played dead. Called Supergirl. It’s a good enough story. Good enough for Maggie’s partner. But Maggie’s eyes slide from Kara’s face, lingering a moment too long on the bloodstains on her dress. The bloodstains with their barely visible bullet holes. Kara crosses her arms to cover them, but the damage is done. When Maggie’s eyes meet hers again, they are searching. 

It doesn’t really matter. She’s just needs the police to have their human version of events. Kara doesn’t need them to find her culprit. That hunt is her own. 

Believe her or no, Maggie lets Kara borrow her phone. J’onn arrives before she hangs up, Nia, Brainy, and Lena arriving not long after. Lena’s eyes, too, linger on the holes in her dress. Kara doesn’t have time to think about that right now or the knowing stare Lena gives when Kara says Supergirl had saved them. Lena excuses herself to the bathroom, and J’onn rounds on Kara. 

“What are we really looking at?” 

“Haley sent agents to the apartment,” Kara says. And she’s sure of it now. Jenny, that familiar code name. Familiar from her research into the Colonel’s former missions. “They didn’t know I was Supergirl,” Kara continues at J’onn’s alarmed expression. “They didn’t even expect me to be there. The hit was for Alex. The power-dampener was just to prevent interruptions.” That last bit is a guess, but one Kara would bet money on. And what was that bit they’d said about ambulances? “I think they must have been interfering with 911 calls in the area too.”

J’onn nods at all this as though reading the morning news. “We should have been monitoring her,” he says. “The army has never liked giving up authority over the DEO. It was foolish, expecting them to give it up so easily this time.” A shadow of anger flickers across his face and is swallowed back. “Have the doctor’s given you any updates?” he asks, in a level voice altogether too casual to be natural. 

“She’s lucky, apparently,” Kara says. “She’ll be in surgery for a while, but she’ll be okay.” Kara elects not to tell J’onn about the detailed scenarios she’s been presented regarding how much of her sister’s digestive organs can be saved. That’s the luck in this situation. Not paralyzed. Not dead. The arm of Kara’s chair creaks dangerously under her grip.

J’onn lays a steadying hand on her shoulder. In his eyes, Kara sees a reflection of the rage that feels like it’s boiling in her throat. It’s not as calming as J’onn might be hoping.

She stands suddenly, roughly. The chair creaks ominously again. “I need to go.”

“Kara,” J'onn says. And her name is a warning as much as the hand he keeps firmly planted on her arm.

Kara pulls out of his grip.“There’s something I need to do.” 

She ignores his last warning, a hiss as she passes by, you don’t want to do this. J’onn doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about. 

Nia and Brainy, who had both been sitting a few feet away, stand as she stalks away. She ignores them too. She glances back at the door, only to catch Lena’s gaze as she returns from the bathroom. Her eyes are wary. And they’re colder than they used to be. 

No time for that. Not time for that at all.   

Tim Haley is gathering the dirty dishes from the living room when the doorbell rings. 

“I’ll get it!” He calls to his wife, hurriedly dropping the dishes in the sink before rushing to the door. He’s still drying his hands when he opens it. 

The woman on the doorstep is a stranger, but she smiles at him as though they’ve known each other ten years. With her sundress and pastel cardigan, Time wonders for a moment if one of Maddie’s teachers has made a house call. 

“Hi! You must be Tim. Is your wife home?”

Something behind Tim shatters. The woman cocks her head and looks over his shoulder. “Ah, there she is.” He turns. Lauren stands in the hall, the remains of a mug at her feet, her mouth open in an expression torn somewhere between confusion and horror.

“Lauren?” Tim asks. His palms grow slick on the door knob. Lauren doesn’t respond. She only stares.

“May I come in?” The woman asks, still smiling, “We need to talk, the three of us.”

“How—How are you—” Lauren stammers, eyes traveling from the woman’s damp hair to her sandled feet. 

The woman’s smile doesn’t slip, but contempt narrows her eyes. “Jeremiah Danvers was a known alien smuggler. Did you really never think he might have brought one home?” She asks. 

Tim staggers away from the door, knob slipping from his hands. The woman holds out a hand to catch the closing door and steps over the threshold.

Lauren sets her shoulders and says, “I can have a security team here in less than a minute.” The woman ignores her, shutting the door quietly behind her and surveying the house. She stares for several moments at a particular patch of ceiling and for the first time something seems to breech her stony calm. Her eyes tighten and her mouth twists. If he had to guess, Tim would have said she looked sad.

But then she turns back to Lauren, her shark’s smile back in place, and says, “If I was a threat to you, Colonel, you wouldn’t have a minute.” She takes another few steps into the house, and continues, more amicably, “But unlike you, violence isn’t my go-to solution for all problems. That office looks cozy, how about we sit there.” She points down the hall to the office—the office whose door was not visible from the hall. Lauren’s eyebrows furrow, then she looks up at the ceiling where the woman had been staring and seems to be thinking. And then her eyes widen and she looks back at the woman with a face that had turned purple-gray. It would only be later, standing in the hall where they had been and looking up that Tim realized what she had been looking at. The patch of ceiling was Maddie’s room.

“Look,” Tim says, “I don’t know what this is about, but I really think you should leave now.” The woman looks at him, and her icy blue eyes melt with something resembling pity. Then she turns back to Lauren.

“He doesn’t know anything?” The woman asks.

“No.” Lauren won’t look at him.

“Know what?” Tim asks, frustration beginning to overpower his fear. The woman turns to him, and the pity was back in her eyes.

“What do you think your wife’s job is, Mr. Haley?” She asks, gently, like he’s a skittish cat.

“She’s a colonel of the United States Army. She’s the chief of staff at a base nearby.” That was all. She just ran the base. She didn’t even go out into the field anymore—she’d stopped when Maddie was a baby.

“That’s all true, I guess.” The woman pauses, then asks, “and what do you know about her work with aliens.” Tim looks at Lauren. Lauren looks at the floor.

Haltingly, eyes on his wife, Tim says, “She doesn’t do any work with aliens.”

“It’s classified.” Lauren says, still not looking at him. “My work with aliens is classified.”

The woman snorts, then starts walking them toward the office.  “Yeah, well. Not anymore.”

Lauren’s office is a small room with three chairs: two desk chairs and a cushioned stool for Maddie. The woman sits on the stool. It’s noticeably shorter than the other chairs and leaves her looking up at both of them, but she doesn’t seem to mind. If anything, she makes the stool a throne.

She’s is the first to speak. “Why?” Her whole face twists with the question, as though she has to force it through unwilling lips. 

“It wasn’t personal.” Lauren replies immediately, almost automatically. 

The woman’s reply comes just as quickly, and as coldly. “I didn’t ask if it was personal. I asked why.” 

Lauren sits silently. Her face is unreadable. Tim doesn’t know if she’s choosing not to answer or just can’t think of one. He isn’t sure which one he prefers. The woman’s patience seems to be draining, however, as she continues, “The agents at the apartment. They were new recruits. They were your plants?” 

“Yes.” Lauren says, quietly. 

“Did Alex… get in the way of some mission? Was it corruption? Some army takeover? I mean,” The woman laughs, half a snarl. “What was it for?” 

Lauren doesn’t respond immediately. When she does, it is slowly, her words placed cautiously. “Director Danvers had become… a liability.” The woman’s jaw twitches with the last word. Tim is watching his wife now. Liability. Liability? Lauren, what did you do? 

“What kind of liability?” The woman grates out. 

“I had reason to believe she had found a method of resisting a Truthseeker. That she had been aiding Supergirl and other aliens against the best interests of the United States. It was decided—” 

“By who?” She asks. Tim takes his eyes off his wife long enough to glance at her and recoils. Her eyes had been blue when she arrived. They’re yellow now. An image inducer? What else was hiding under there? 

Lauren licks her lips. “That’s classified.” 

The woman’s eyes flash danger. She leans forward. “I thought,” she says, hate twisting her mouth in a foul grimace. “We already went through this. There is no classified in this room. You and who else?” 

“I’m not handing you new names for a hit list.” 

“Hit list?” The woman snarls, and the desk splinters under her fingers. Tim was wrong about her eyes. They’re a solid, burning orange.“You want to talk about hit lists?” 

And then her eyes jerk from Lauren to a spot on the back wall. Emotions flash across her face too quick for Tim to fully follow. Recognition is one. And frustration. 

The woman’s hand relaxes on the table. She closes her eyes with an irritated huff. When she opens them again, they are blue. 

Tim glances at the back wall, and notices Lauren checking subtly over her shoulder as well. 

There’s nothing there. 

“It doesn’t matter.” The woman says, tone purposefully light. “I can check on that when I’m done here.” She turns back to Lauren, pulling open her purse. “I’m almost disappointed.” She says, conversational if not for the bitter note beneath her voice. “You’ve been planning this for what? At least six months and this is all you came up with? Really?” 

Lauren seems to regain her nerve. “There were obviously unanticipated factors.” She bites back. The woman doesn’t immediately reply, and in the silence, Lauren seems to find her opportunity. All in a rush, she begins, “He is just a civilian. There’s no need to involve him in—” 

“Don’t.” The woman snaps. Whatever renewed calm she is drawing on, Tim thinks, it is a cord pulled taut. “Your agents thought I was an uninvolved civillian. And I can tell you right now, that didn’t slow them down much.” Her anger fades and she continues more matter-of-factly, “Besides, some of this concerns him.” She pulls a large file from her purse. It drops onto the desk with a thud that cracks through the silent room. 

But Lauren, it seems, isn’t done. “Now listen, Ms— Ms. Danvers.” 

The woman blinks, cutting Lauren off mid-sentence with a hand. She stares at Lauren with a mix of incredulity and offence. 

“Do you— Do you know my name?” She asks. 

Lauren looks at the desk. Then shakes her head by a fraction. “Alex spoke about you a few times, but at the moment I can’t recall.” 

The woman nods almost absentmindedly, eyes distant, “Can’t recall. You got me shot today, and you don’t even know my name.” She pauses.“I guess that shouldn’t surprise me. It’s Kara, by the way— not that you’ll have much reason to use it after this.” It takes Kara a moment to refocus. Her eyes dart about, still thinking. Then she inhales sharply and opens the folder.  

“So,” She begins, “The future. Let’s discuss.” She slides a collection of papers across the table to Lauren. Lauren begins to flip through them, confusion growing on her face by the minute. Tim leans over to read over her shoulder. Salaries, expected hours, insurance package… 

“What is this?” He asks. 

Kara smiles. “It’s a collection of private security jobs in New England— well, there are a couple in actual England, but mostly it’s just U.S. stuff.” When both of them continue to stare at her, she continues, “That is your wife’s career, Mr. Haley. Her future, anyway. They’re not bad positions, if I do say so myself. I picked them carefully. She’s got excellent references, and those medals of hers really speak for themselves. Shouldn’t take her that long to snatch up one of these.” 

“Except that I already have a job.” Lauren says, drily. 

“Ah! Yes, key point.” Kara fixes Lauren with a level stare. “You are going to put in your resignation tonight. You will contact no other member of the military. You will pass no other communication through to them. You will say that all the stress of the last year, the DEO, Lex, Baker, the Children of Liberty— it put things in perspective. It was too much. You have to prioritize your family. You’ve been considering it for a while and you’ve already got a job lined up.” 

Lauren laughs, but the anxiety in her eyes is real. “I admire your confidence, Ms— Kara, but I can’t get one of these jobs by tonight. Give me a few weeks, I can resign a bit more smoothly and...” 

“I know a colonel’s salary, Lauren.” Kara says, unimpressed. “You can make do.” 

“And if I don’t?” Lauren asks. Her eyes are calculating now. Tim knows that face: he’s seen it before. She’s testing the waters. But this isn’t the Jason with HOA on some new regulation for grass height or the city putting off new paving and Tim is feeling distinctly out of his depth.  Kara leans forward, and all traces of humor are gone. “What do you think would happen to you, your family, if it comes out that you kidnapped, tortured, and enslaved alien children and used them as assassins? What sort of international incident would that cause? And tell me, Colonel Haley, what else would they find, if they knew to start digging?” 

The blood drains from Lauren’s face with her confidence. Tim’s ears are ringing. He almost doesn’t hear Lauren’s question, quiet with horror. 

“How do you—” And then something clicks in her eyes. Lauren’s breath catches. And she stares with a fresh dread that digs a new and deeper pit in Tim’s stomach. 

“I’m a journalist. Knowing things is my job.” Then, Kara adds under her breath, “Unless you couldn’t recall that too.” 

“I— I have served my country with honor.” Lauren is reaching now. Her breathing is as fast as Tim’s.

“I don’t think that is the word I would use.” 

“I followed my orders.” 

“Don’t discredit yourself. You took plenty of initiative. That’s what earned you all those medals right?” Kara’s voice cracks now, her face twisted with disgust. “Service with distinction. Defending the United States with all means available. Even living ones.” 

Lauren jumps to her feet. “My country stands at my back!” 

“And when Kaznia calls asking about the men you had murdered? The ships you sank? Would they stand behind you then? Would your country protect you? Or would they ship you across the sea and pretend they never knew you?” There's an ugly sort of satisfaction in her voice. Vindication. She's got us cornered, Tim thinks, and she knows it.

“So… what?" Lauren asks. "I resign and then what? You’ll just leave us alone?” 

“If Alex lives? Yes, mostly. I surveil you for the rest of your short human life to ensure you are keeping your word. But other than that, yes.” 

Lauren swallows, and Tim knows she has noticed the hanging question. “And if she dies?”

Kara’s answer is straightforward. “You won’t make it to the Kaznians.”

Tim thinks he might vomit. He doesn’t know whether to look at his wife or the stranger, and chooses instead the back of the office computer. His own face is reflected in it, distended and strange. 

Kara stands. “You have big decisions to make, jobs to resign. I’ll leave you to it.” Tim watches her go. She pauses at the door. When she looks back, it’s him she fixes with her cold stare. “You may want to look at the rest of that folder before she burns it.” 

He’s reaching for the folder before she’s out of view. 

The door closes behind Kara with a satisfying click. She can still hear them in the office. Mr. Haley’s furious questions. What are those things? I don't care if it's classified-- What did you do? The colonel’s unhelpful interjections. You know I can’t talk to you about my work! Kara's satisfaction melts into annoyance as J’onn materializes next to her. 

“I’m not sure handing him the Morae case file was helpful to that operation.” 

“Everybody deserves to know who they married.” Kara replies. 

“That may be true, but you may have overplayed your hand today,” J’onn says. “Haley will be suspicious after today, if she hasn’t already figured it out. And adding the husband to the equation is an unnecessary wildcard.” 

“Haley was going to figure out something as soon as her agents reported Kara Danvers dead.” 

J’onn scowls. “She’ll certainly figure out something now.” 

Kara just keeps walking. Better to put some human distance between herself and the house. J’onn follows. 

“When did you realize I was there?” He asks. 

“You’re invisible. Not silent. You weren’t that hard to notice.” It’s an omission. An obvious one. But J’onn lets her have it. It’s kinder to her pride than forcing her to admit she’d only noticed him when she’d asked about the other conspirators. The shifting space had caught her attention when he’d stepped forward. “You got the other names?”  

J’onn grunts an agreement. “Samuel Lane was expected. Matthew Abrams was a surprise. I had understood he’d resigned during the Cadmus scandal. We’ll have to revisit that file.” 

“Manage to get anything else while you were in there?” She asks.

“Nothing without her noticing my intrusion in her mind.” Well, that was expected. Disappointing, but expected. “Lifelong surveillance is no small task.” J’onn continues. “Do you think the threat will keep her at bay? It may just drive her toward stronger allies.” 

“We’ve tried working with her. We’ve tried moving her away. If trust or chain of command won’t keep her away, then maybe fear will.”

J’onn stops dead in the street, eyes narrow. “That is not a tone I’d expect from you.” 

“Well, maybe it should be!” Kara snaps. “Maybe if it was, we wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place.” 

“That’s Astra talking.” 

“Don’t you dare!” Kara snarls. Fists balled, she prepares to shout, to scream, to lambast him for where the hell he got off— and then she sees his face. He looks down at her with something worse than disappointment, worse than pity. J’onn looks at her with understanding. 

Kara unclenches her fists and keeps walking. “She walks out of this safe with a cushy new office job. She’ll be fine.”

“And if Alex dies?” 

And boy if J’onn doesn’t know exactly how to press all of her buttons. 

“Alex is fine. She’s stable.” She is stable. Kara can hear her even from this far off. Steady heart and mechanical breathing. 

“That’s not an answer.” 

“What do you want from me, J’onn?” Kara hates the way her voice cracks on the words. Her eyes burn. “What do you want?” 

J’onn plants his solid, grounding hands on her shoulders. “To keep you from doing something you’ll regret.” 

“I wouldn’t regret this.” Kara says. That she knows. She couldn't regret this. Not when it's taking everything she has just to walk away.

“Yes, yes, you would. Not now, but in a few years, when everything is quiet and you’re safe and there’s no axe over your head twisting your thoughts. Take it from an old soldier, Kara. You’d regret it.” There’s no judgement in J’onn’s voice. Just weariness. And old guilt. 

The tears come unbidden and unwanted. Kara looks away, trying to wipe them from her face before he sees them. Her sniffling seems pathetically loud against the quiet street. 

“I’m tired, J’onn.” Kara says. “Would you fly me home?” 

J’onn doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t have to. He just holds out an arm. 

[mondstaub1]

fanfiction idea: Fae solangelo

Summary: Will never belived in fairys, or monsters or stuff like that. Espically after all the time he had spent studying medicin. Things like fea or vampires weren't physically possible. That's why he thought nothing of it when his friend dared him to offer himself to a fae in exchange for a pizza. When the pizza delivery guy indeed brought his favourite pizza he wrote it of as a lucky coincidence. When he woke up to following day, in a strange forest, chained to the grassfloor, naked with only a strang looking boy as company he thought it might be time to change his mind.

Will blinked his eyes open, he looked around in confusion. He was in the woods. How did he get here and how- why was he chained to the ground?! Why was he nude?! Just as he was starting to panic an sweet voice brought him out of his thoughts. "Why hallo sweet one" Will looked up and just a few feet away sat a strange looking boy and a grass covered rock. He had black hair, black eyes and sparkeled like the crown mode out of dark but precious stones on his head. Beautiful wings covered in black and golden feathers across his back. When he grinned, white fangs gleamed in the sunlight. Will swallowed. "What is your name, sweety?" The boy asked. "Will", he answered "and yours?" "Nico diAngelo prince of the shadow Fea", the boy grinned dangerously, "or Nicolo. Call me as you like but I prefer Nico." Will felt like his world had sceeched to a stop. "A Fae?" he asked silenty but the boy had heard him, "Yep I am the fea you bargained with" Wills eyes went wide. The bargain he had made. Fuck. The boy jumped down from the rock and came closer. He was dressed in a dark chiton with chains and skulls on his belt. Will tried to move away but the chains held him in place. The boy eyed him up and down. The blond flushed deep red, suddently being reminded of his own nudity. "You are really pretty", Nico said carassing Wills cheek, "I've wanted a new pet for quit a while" Will felt the blood drain from his face. Without warning Nico pressed their lips together and the world turned black

[hunters-vigil]

You notice that despite it getting late, Jean continues to work without taking any breaks. So you decide to do something about it.

With the aim of a gn!reader... don't repost my stuff on other platforms, i have ao3.

fic below the cut...

It had been a long time since you had seen Jean come to The Cat's Tail. Looking back on it, it was probably back before Varka left on his expedition with most of the Knights, but a lot had changed since then.

Back then, you were still figuring out how not to screw up delivering people's orders from Good Hunter, but now you were working at The Cat's Tail, sorting out the patrons' orders in a mostly flawless manner.

At least you didn't have to worry about trying to get the sticky honey roast to Springvale before it got cold, or figuring out who ordered the calla lily seafood soup. There was also that time where a boar spooked you, leading you to drop the fried raddish balls on the way to the Dawn Winery...

The Cat's Tail didn't deliver, but Jean had not had time to have her favoured pizza order at the tavern in so long...

It was Miss Lisa who mentioned her struggles to get Jean to take breaks, even the cup of tea she tried to share with her had gone cold sometimes, and Captain Kaeya's attempts to get her to enjoy a drink at Angel's Share had failed too.

You weren't supposed to deliver pizza outside of the Cat's Tail's outdoor dining area, but your argument that it was for the Acting Grandmaster of all people, eventually allowed Margaret to waiver.

Now you were heading up to the Knights of Favonius Headquarters, taking Jean's pizza and drink order in a brown paper bag. Waving to Athos and Porthos as they guarded the entrance, you headed inside to be greeted by Wood and Wyratt.

"Ah, good evening, it's been a while since you were last here, hasn't it? I thought you stopped making deliveries?" Captain Kaeya walked down the stairs to greet you, eyeing the brown paper bag you were carrying with intrigue sparking in his eye.

"You're correct, but this is a special delivery for the Acting Grand Master..." you replied, taking a step towards Jean's office.

"Well, whatever it is smells quite delicious. Jean is one lucky woman." Kaeye gave you a knowing look that you ignored in favour of knocking on the door, balancing the bag carefully.

"Come in." Jean called out, not even looking up from her paperwork as you opened the door.

"Have a good night..." Kaeya smirked, watching you head inside before heading out to meet Lisa to tell her about you.

"Acting Grand Master... Jean? When was the last time you had a break?" you frowned, looking over the blonde's face.

"Oh, it's you- What is that smell?" Jean finally realised you were there, eyeing the brown bag with a raised eyebrow.

"Your usual pizza and drink order from The Cat's Tail. You haven't come in a while so... I thought I'd bring it to you."

"I was under the impression that they didn't deliver?" Jean got up from her desk, hiding a yawn by briefly covering her mouth with her hand.

"They don't. This is a special, for you." You explained, heading over to the longer table to serve her order.

"For me? This is... my favourite. Thank you- why are you giving me that look?" Jean's face tinted pink as you continued to stare at her.

"I've heard you have a habit of letting food and drink go cold instead of consuming them. So it's this, or I end up feeding you the pizza as you work..." Jean's face turned scarlet at the implications of your words, "which is... hopefully unnecessary, but you need to eat, Jean." Your formalities slipped for a moment, clearing your throat as you felt your ears burn.

"Would you-" Jean sucked in a breath, taking a moment, "would you like to stay for a while and enjoy this with me, or does Margaret need you back at The Cat's Tail?"

"Probably not a good idea, I need to escort Diona home then I'm working tonight, dealing with all the drunks. Plus, your mother got mad at me and Noelle once, just by being in the same room as documentation that was for the Knights' eyes only." Your eyes lingered on the clock before looking at Jean, who had opened the pizza box.

"Apologies, I didn't bring cutlery, but there's a lot of napkins." You chuckled as Jean picked up a slice. You didn't see the look on her face at the mention of her mother, but she pushed it down as the smell of the food distracted her.

"How did you get this past Margaret anyway?" Jean enquired as she ate, frowning briefly as you slowly made your way towards the door.

"I can be very persuasive."

"I'm sure." Jean nodded in agreement, "thank you for bringing me this, it's been so long since I've been able to-"

"I know, I know. But you deserve to have breaks, and pizza, so... it's on the house. Please enjoy it while it's hot." You nodded, smiling softly as you reached for the door knob.

"Wait! Maybe next time, would you like to stay? We could go to Windrise and have a picnic?" Jean's face burned, hoping that you would say yes. In all the romance books she had read, a picnic sounded like a nice idea, and it would be even better with you beside her.

"I'd love to. Goodnight Jean."

"Goodnight! Oh, and if you have any trouble tonight, please don't hesitate to ask any of the patrolling knights for assistance. In fact, would you like a knight to escort you and Diona to Springvale?" Jean motioned to stand up to make arrangements, but you shook your head.

"Jean... eat your pizza. I've got this, but I look forward to our picnic." You waved as you headed out the door, nodding to all the Knights as you passed them by.

The Acting Grandmaster couldn't help but let out a disappointed sigh as you left, wishing you could have stayed longer, wishing she had said more, kept the conversation going. It felt like forever since she had seen you, and the teasing she had received from Lisa hadn't helped matters...

"I look forward to our picnic too..." she spoke into the empty air, taking a glance towards the paperwork she needed to do, but... the pizza smelt better than the paper and ink ever could.

[xxtc-96xx]

Wait... Where did Newtwo get the pizza from?

They're in the woods! It's not like they can have a delivery guy come there without him asking why a Mewtwo in the middle of the forest is ordering pizza!

stole it from the nearest human XD put all the stuff on it

[proxylynn]

What are DG's hobbies? (Besides killing)

[Well...*looking info up* DG hobbies and likes...]

"DELIVERY GUY likes spending time with his mother or Damon, cooking, playing pranks, taking walks (especially to ponds), playing guitar, watching [horror] movies, playing video games/board games, and constantly adding to his frog collection. 🐸"

-He likes all types of music. -Likes pineapple on pizza. -He likes playing games but hates it if he loses. -He draws smiley faces when he's feeling down. -Likes marshmallows. -Loves cooking but it can get weird sometimes.

{And for a bonus...Damon's likes/hobbies.}

"DAMON likes MC, dancing, swimming, gardening, taking pictures, exploring the woods, playing piano (but he hasn't played for a long time now), watching [romance] movies, playing video games/ board games, and occasionally adding to his bee collection. 🐝"

-Loves dancing. -He played piano when he was younger. -Loves swimming. -He likes to play games with DG even though he's not very good at playing. -Loves chocolate.

[orivaa-kun]

ride for me | chapter 3: go

ch. 1 | ch. 2

chapter word count: 16.3k warnings: mature (18+), drinking, drug use, smut, fluff, angst, feels pairings: Gojo Satoru x Fem OC, Geto Suguru x Fem OC, Gojo Satoru x Geto Suguru x Fem OC series summary: Lena Okamoto was emotionally estranged from her father—the CEO of Okamoto Group, a Tokyo-based, multi billion-dollar sports car manufacturing company—after her mother died due to a longterm, post-pregnancy related illness when she was a kid. Amidst her father’s misdirected blame for this, now 27, Lena is finally back in the city. She’s introverted and troubled by her past with her father and step-family, but hardworking and anxious to prove herself to everyone: that she can create the best cars for the Okamoto brand and the fastest engines for their Formula 1 cars. Satoru Gojo is the face of Gojo Industries—the corporation that practically owns Tokyo with its advanced tech that can be found all over the city. Unlike Lena in many ways, the confident and extroverted man leads a completely different, unblemished life—having basically had a spoiled upbringing, and the only trying aspect of his life being the sheer amount of his company responsibilities, obligations, and public appearances. When the two meet, both of their lives change completely. Will they be able to juggle their relationship, trying professional careers, family dynamics, and public image all at once? Sacrifices will have to be made.

It had to be around noon when I woke up from the nap I’d immediately taken after returning to my other home—I could tell from the way the light poured in through the floor-to-ceiling length picture windows alongside the back wall of it. I still occasionally had to reorient myself whenever I woke up in this room, especially as I’d just finished remodeling this side of the house weeks ago, but today I immediately knew exactly where I was upon waking—my mom’s old home in Yamanashi. The sun had pleasantly warmed up my cream-colored duvet and sheets, and much unlike most days, the piercing chime of my phone alarm hadn’t abruptly shaken me awake. It was nice. Maybe Yuko was right about taking more time off... 

I reached under one of my pillows and fished for my phone on the edge of my bed, flipping it over to reveal the actual time—11:48am. Close enough. I sorted through my email for a bit, checking on my shipping notifications for the house and discovering that the wood fire pizza oven was going to be delivered early this afternoon. It was a good thing I’d planned to spend the day here. 

 After responding to messages and aimlessly scrolling though my phone, I finally slipped out of bed, adjusting the white, teddy sleepwear tube top and long pants that had moved around a bit during my sleep. I was about to make my way to the kitchen, but the sound of the doorbell jolted me instead. I reached for my matching robe nearby, quickly fastening the sash around my waist before approaching the front door. The guys delivering the pizza oven were here already?

I opened the door to a tall man with red-dyed hair and wearing an all-black uniform with a tablet in his hand. His hair was tucked into a black cap, and I glanced behind him to see another man in the same uniform beginning to get out of a large truck, “Good morning.” I offered the red-haired man a polite smile.

“Hi. Are you Ms. Lena Okamoto?” He lifted his tablet, seemingly pulling up some sort of page on it.

“Yes. You two are here to deliver the pizza oven, right?”

“Pizza oven…? The man lifted a brow in confusion, “Um, no. We’re here to deliver the painting. Can you sign here, please?” He extended the tablet and attached pen to me.

My brows furrowed together, “Painting? I didn’t buy a painting…”

“It’s a gift from, uh,” The man checked the tablet again, seemingly surprised by the name he saw, “Satoru Gojo?? Shit, you know Satoru Gojo?!” He seemed surprised by the information, like he hadn’t checked the delivery information until now.

“Oh…” I blinked a few times and rubbed my temple, still waking up, “Right.” He did say there’d be a gift waiting for me when I woke up, “Yes, thank you.” A painting?

“Whoa, that’s awesome. Well, where would you like us to put it? It’s pretty heavy.” The red-haired man turned back to glance to the other man in uniform, who unlatched the back hatch of the truck to reveal a long, rectangular box wrapped with white, heavy-duty paper. It looked pretty big, almost as big as… No way. There was no way it could be that painting.

“Oh shit…” I muttered under my breath, in disbelief.

“What was that?” The man asked.

“Oh! Nothing, sorry, um…” I pushed the front door open wider, “Is there any way you two can bring it into my office in here?”

Less than 30 minutes later, I was staring blankly at the wall of my study, jaw practically on the floor as the two art installers mounted the exact Nakamura painting the from me and Satoru’s date yesterday at the art gallery—the modern piece that depicted a calm or storming ocean, depending on how one looked at it. I didn’t even want to think about what a painting like this would be worth… Yes, I did. I’d have to remember to call Yuko about it later. She was an art enthusiast, herself, and would definitely be able to estimate its price point. Was this supposed to be normal for rich boys like Satoru? Did he go around handing out expensive gifts to girls after every first date we went on?!

I slipped my phone out of my robe pocket, immediately beginning to text Satoru.

Though it was a shocking first date gift, the painting was something I wanted… I just thought it was something that would take me a few years to save up for—not one day of dating Satoru Gojo. But who knows if the painting would’ve still been on the market by then… Maybe I should just take the gift? It’s not like Satoru would miss the money, anyways. My heart was about to jump out of my chest. This piece alone was probably worth more than all nine of my sports cars combined!

I took a deep exhale and pinched the bridge of my nose, trying to calm myself about the situation. I needed to tell Shoko and Yuko about this, like immediately.

~ 

The next morning, I didn’t wake up from my alarm but instead much earlier, before dawn at 4am, to the sound of my phone buzzing repeatedly. I grumbled and pouted, irritated from whoever or whatever was determined to wake me up so damn early. When I flipped my phone over, I discovered the hundreds of notifications—mostly from Instagram. My eyes went from narrowed to wide as I scrolled through, and I immediately sat up, turning on my bedside lamp before reading just a few of the thousand-plus comments that had been posted on a number of my recent posts. 

“don’t take pics with my man!!! 😤🤬” 

“There’s no way satoru gojo’s with a girl who’s barely even Japanese lol” 

“r u dating gojo????” 

“She looks like a uniqlo diversity model 🤣🤣🤣” 

“OMG I found her page!!” 

“back off he’s mineeee” 

“slut” 

The last comment sank heavily in my chest. Was this because I was dating Satoru?? I rapidly scrolled to the top of my page, rubbing my eyes in disbelief at the number of followers I saw. Just a few days ago it had to be around 409K... now it was... 893K?! Overnight?!! How did people find out about us in the first place? 

I exited the app, navigating my search engine. I began to type in my name, and immediately the first autocomplete read, “...and Satoru Gojo picture at docks.” I paused and sighed, roughly running a hand through my curls before reluctantly tapping the ‘search’ icon. And there it was, all over the image search results—Satoru and I pictured mid-kiss in front of the Tokyo Bay Yacht Club entrance. I fucking knew I’d heard the sound of a camera that morning. To top it off, my hair even looked kind of messy from the wind down by the docks. Satoru looked perfect, of course, and was in a full tailored suit compared to my slightly wrinkled, high waisted jeans and long coat that I’d worn the day before. 

After scrolling through a few of the image result photos, I realized that there was not one, but three photos circulating of us—one with Gojo kissing my fingers, one with him kissing my forehead, and one of us kissing each other. It was such an intimate moment... The comments were one thing, but the fact that some random paparazzi had intruded on this sweet moment between Satoru and I, it was off-putting, to say the least. I still remembered the feeling of the brisk wind on my cheeks, the way the cold morning air burned my nose red, and how Satoru’s lips had warmed me up. It was a private moment—one I wished had stayed as such. 

I navigated back to Instagram, tapping a completely different photo on my profile that had nothing to do with this paparazzi fiasco at all. It was one of the stills from my GQ shoot and article from a few months ago—a simple picture of me sitting on the track at sunset beside an older Okamoto model, dressed in a tight-fitting, full black and red leather (and more fashionable than functional) racing suit. What had once been ten or so comments from car fans and my friends was now over a hundred spam-like comments from people who were clearly obsessive fans of Satoru. 

“Is she like a tomboy or something?” 

“ur not even gojo’s type” 

“idk she’s kinda cute!” 

“Oof looks like Gojo is in his hafu phase 🥴 don’t worry GojoGirlies it’ll be over soon 🤣” 

“all of you are just hating b/c she’s tan smh” 

“Why is she even dressed like that if she really makes cars? Seems fake” 

“it’s from a GQ shoot, not a car factory u idiot.” 

“smash” 

I navigated to the search bar, half-typing in the name of a popular Tokyo gossip and entertainment news account—@thesorceryroom. Of course, when I tapped the profile, I saw that there were already four different posts on me and Satoru. What the hell did they even have to go on about us? All we did was kiss!  

Without a second thought, I immediately pulled up Satoru’s contact and hit the call icon, bringing my phone to my ear and biting my lip stressfully as I impatiently waited for him to pick up. It wasn’t until I heard his voice upon answering that it fully dawned on me how early in the morning it was, “Hey, Lena. You’re up early.” Satou noted, voice far from groggy or sleep-ridden... Was he already awake? 

“Oh! Uh, hey... Sorry, Satoru, did I wake you?” I suddenly felt way more nervous. 

“Nah, I’ve been up for a bit working. How about you, though? Everything okay?” He questioned, clearly curious to why I’d called him at 4am. 

“Um...” I trailed off, voice a bit uneasy, “Sorry for calling this early, it’s just my phone’s been blowing up so I woke up, and then I just had to call you when I saw what’s happening online...” I rambled, beginning to slide out of bed and pace around my bedroom. 

“What’s happening online?” Satoru asked, sounding completely clueless. 

“Uh, the pictures? There’s pictures floating around the internet of us kissing in front of the yacht club yesterday morning...” I explained. He didn’t know?  

“Oh, there are? Huh.” Satoru didn’t sound phased by this information at all. 

“And it’s blowing up online! There’s like, thousands of people stalking my page and dropping random comments on my old posts about it. Just random shit about us, and there’s some wacky shit directed to me, specifically!” I rubbed the back of my neck anxiously as I paced. 

“Damn, I didn’t expect this would happen this soon...” 

“You expected it??” I couldn’t help but raise my voice a little bit. Would’ve been nice to get a little heads up... 

“Well, yes and no. To be honest, I don’t usually date so publicly. The last time I did, many years ago, stuff like this happened all the time.” 

“Couldn’t you at least have warned me or something beforehand...?” I’m sure my tone sounded a little frustrated. I was trying to keep my composure about the situation and hear Satoru out, but it didn’t really seem like he empathized with what I was going through at all... 

“Sorry, Lena, it was the furthest thing from my mind.” Satoru’s tone sounded sincere, but I still felt thrown off from this whole situation, “But, don’t think about that, babe. Just ignore them.” 

I turned my face a bit at his response—as if it was that simple to let go of the countless things people were saying about you, “Satoru, it’s not that easy... I mean, have you seen all the shit people are saying about me? There’s gotta be damn near a thousand comments!” 

“Oh, I haven’t been on social media since high school. My publicist handles my accounts. I learned pretty early that shit really starts to mess with your head if you’re on it for too long.” Satoru sounded a bit aloof, even over the phone, like he was talking to an interviewer and not the girl he was dating. 

I was confused, “Okay, but I don’t have a publicist, or an assistant. I handle my own accounts.” I was starting to get irritated now, “I didn’t have the luxury of having one—especially when I was fresh out of high school and my dad no longer legally had to support me. I had to scrape to market myself, find jobs on my own and work my way up in the car manufacturing industry... It wasn’t until recently that I was able to afford to streamline some of the work I do, and social media’s never been an issue for me, well, not until now.” 

There was a short pause, and then I heard Satoru take a breath before speaking, “Wait—I’m sorry, Lena. I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that my mind’s kinda split this morning with this project I’ve been... Never mind that. I apologize. I should’ve mentioned that something like this might happen, and taken the steps to get ahead of it.” He exhaled, “How’s this; why don’t we meet for lunch today to talk some more? I can even come to you, if you don’t have much time.” 

I inhaled deeply, trying to calm my nerves; Satoru’s apology had helped cool me off some, “Okay. Yeah, lunch would be good.” I finally stopped pacing, moving my hand that wasn’t holding my phone to my forehead to swoop my hair back, “There’s some things we should talk about, I guess.” I trapped the corner of my lower lip between my teeth at the sort of uncomfortable air around our current conversation. There were definitely some things I wanted to ask him, at the very least. Like why was Satoru suddenly so okay with dating publicly after meeting me? 

“Alright, then.” Satoru said conclusively. 

There was a long silence that followed, neither of us sure of what to say next. But the obvious thought remained. We shouldn’t’ve had to deal with all this after only one freaking date. 

“Look, Lena, I really like you. And I don’t wanna fuck this up. Let’s talk and get this situation cleared up so we can go back to having fun and getting to know one another, ‘kay?” 

“Okay.” I finally managed a small smile, taking another deep breath. 

“As far as social media—maybe mute the apps for today. I’ll get a social strategist from my team to look into the situation and see how we can go about protecting your accounts.” 

I began to protest, “Oh you don’t have to do that—” 

“I insist.” Satoru cut in, “As long as you’re dating me, you shouldn’t have to worry about handling these things by yourself. You shouldn’t have to worry at all, about anything, really.” 

And there he was, the sweet Satoru whose words and actions made me blush and my heart flutter... I sat down on the end of my bed, nudging my toes into the soft, plush rug beneath my feet, “...Okay.” I finally agreed, a small smile on my face. 

“Now, get some rest, Lena. Sorry that all of this disturbed your sleep.” 

“It’s fine.” There was a part of me that wished I could fall back asleep in Satoru’s arms, like I had last night, “You should get some sleep, too!” 

“It’s alright, I’ve got some work to do for this project this morning. Plus, I don’t need to sleep much, anyways.” 

“If you say so.” Though I wasn’t nearly as straight-forward as Satoru when it came to expressing feelings, I wanted to make him feel wanted, too. My smile grew into a warm smirk before I spoke again, “Well, I’m looking forward to seeing you at lunch...” I aimlessly fiddled with the duvet on my bed. 

“Yeah?” I heard Satoru’s tone soften considerably, his smile practically audible through the way he’d asked the word alone, “I’m glad to hear it. I’m always excited to see you.” Just like that, he one-upped me so effortlessly. 

I giggled to his words and the sexual implications of them, seeing as I’d already had a few run-ins with Satoru’s hard-on. 

“Hey...! Get your mind outta the gutter. I meant that in a nice, respectable way.” Satoru said matter-of-factly. 

I laughed and teased back, “You said it first!” 

“Well, maybe not just respectable...” Satoru trailed off, but then suddenly tore himself from his own line of thought, “Alright, that’s it. Goodbye, Lena, before you get me worked up.” 

“Night, Satoru.” My laugh lowered back into a giggle. 

“Goodnight, beautiful.” 

~ 

Since the internet had woken me up before sunrise, I’d decided to head into Okamoto’s HQ early as well, and was grateful for the bit of peace and quiet the near-empty building provided—outside of the occasional custodian staff member who would simply greet me.

But now closer to 9am, the more my production and mechanic team members entered the office, the more of them asked me about the Satoru situation. How the hell had everyone found out so fast, anyways? Was there a city-wide alert or something?? Okay, I was exaggerating in my thoughts, but this attention was still ridiculous. You’d think I was running for fucking prime minister.

I was currently tucked behind the desktop computer monitors in my office, following up on emails from the carbon fiber manufacturing group in Kyoto to ask them questions about the material specifics and safety. I suddenly saw Jin walk by the glass door in his racing mechanics suit—probably headed to the vehicle production building.

“Morning, Lena.” He opened the door and poked his head into my office, an amused look on his face.

“Hey, Jin.” I kept focused on and typed away on my keyboard, still a little overwhelmed from this whole dating rumor situation.

“You’re dating Satoru Gojo?” Jin’s amused look grew into an intrigued smirk. This was at least the seventh time I’d gotten the question in the last hour.

“Oh my god, not you, too…” I paused in my typing to drop my face into my hands, releasing a sigh.

“And you didn’t tell me??” He grinned, obviously interested in the gossip.

“One date! We only went on one date, okay…?!” I sat back up to exclaim, exasperated.

Jin raised his hands, “Hey, I’m just telling you what I heard! Wait, was that why you were almost late to the test drive a few days ago?”

“No!” I quickly replied, then actually thought aloud for a moment, “Well, not really…”

“Ooo, Lena…!” Jin teased me, grade-school style, “You better be careful hanging around big shot rich boys like that.” He chuckled, beginning to walk away from my office door, “Then again, it might just be good PR for Okamoto Group!”

I groaned dramatically and dropped my forehead onto the flat of my desk, “Ugh, leave me alone!”

“See you at the production status meeting later!”

I sighed for what felt like the millionth time this morning, suddenly feeling my phone buzz in my pocket. I reluctantly retrieved it from my mechanic suit pocket, eyes widening to the Instagram direct message notification on my screen.

Francesco De Luca… my ex, and the Lamborghini Chief Designer I’d met almost five years ago at a F1 race on England’s Knockhill track. It was back when I was on the Ferrari team, still working my way up the mechanics and design ranks and making a name for myself in the industry.

I hadn’t heard from him in two years, not since the day he’d broken up with me when I told him I was returning to Tokyo. He’d let anger take over him after I told him the news, and had brushed off our two and a half years together like it was nothing. Needless to say, I was heartbroken for months; but I eventually had to move on and took it as my sign to start over at home in Tokyo. No dating, no boyfriends, no nothing—just work. I was turned off and frightened by the idea of dating, in fact. Well, until Satoru had randomly dropped himself into my life, that was.

Why was he DMing me on Instagram? I opened the message.

Though I’d finally managed to get over him a year ago, his message still made my stomach sink. What. The. Fuck. What the hell was wrong with men?! Why did they always love to pop up, as soon as you moved on to someone new??!? There was no questioning it. He’d definitely heard the news online about me and Satoru. I wanted to curse him out—for this bullshit, and for everything he’d done to me. For never answering any of my calls, for abandoning me when I was so anxious about returning home, even though I was excited for the big, new position at my family’s company. For brushing me off and erasing me from his life like we hadn’t been together for nearly three years. Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!!!

I didn’t even realize I hadn’t blocked him on my socials. I typed back my brief reply before hitting the block button, somehow managing to hold back all the fire and anger I was more than ready to hurl his way.

~ 

Now 12:01pm, I strode into the restaurant just a few blocks down from the Okamoto headquarters—a steakhouse named Gyushi that normally was buzzing with business professionals from the surrounding buildings at this time. I now wore a taupe blazer that had pronounced shoulder pads and accentuated my shape, and a matching miniskirt with black sheer tights underneath. My curls were fastened up in a high braided ponytail, and my small black stilettos lightly clacked against the black and white marble floor when I walked in. It was then I realized that the restaurant was completely empty. Shit—were they closed today? Then why was the door open? 

A shorter man in uniform approached me just then, “Ms. Okamoto?” 

“Yes.” 

“Welcome to Gyushi. Mr. Gojo is already here. Allow me to escort you to your table.” 

“Oh, thank you.” I nodded, curving up the corners of my lips in a polite smile. 

I looked around the western style steakhouse as I followed the man through the front and towards the back; I’d never seen it this empty before... Were they remodeling? We made our way through the spacious restaurant, and eventually I spotted the head of white hair at a plush booth in the center of the back area—an area of the place which I’d never seen, let alone eaten in. Normally I could only grab a seat at the bar in the front for lunch; and trying to book a reservation for dinner? Forget about it. 

The man in uniform bowed his head once we arrived at the booth, “A waiter will come by shortly to get your drink order, and anything else you’d like to start with. Please enjoy.” 

“Thank you.” I matched the man’s small bow, then turned my attention to Satoru who was already standing up, “Hey, you.” My smile grew when my eyes met his. I looked him over once, appreciating the tailored fit of his navy blue and thin white striped suit as I approached him. 

“Hey, Lena, you look great.” Satoru’s eyes traced over my body as well, smirking. He opened his arms, and I joined him in a tight hug, watching him bend down to plant his usual, quick peck on my cheek. Satoru kept his arms locked around my waist but backed up his head a bit to get a better look at me, “You doing okay?” His thumbs rubbed over the fabric at my lower back. 

“I mean, crazy morning but yeah, I’m managing.” I said a bit dramatically yet truthfully, smiling up at Satoru. 

Satoru grumbled low and playfully, eyes moving up from my lips to meet my gaze again, “Hm, I’d rather you were relaxing.” 

I giggled lightly, “It’s fine.” I made a bold move, for me, and stretched up to press a small kiss to Satoru’s cheek. 

Satoru’s eyes softened and he responded by bending down and pressing his lips to mine in a long kiss. He always seemed to one-up me when it came to sweet gestures—even in this romantic way, he was competitive and could never just let me win. 

We sat down in the booth after we pulled apart, and my eyes flickered to the menu before me on the table. I’d only ever seen the short list of lunch specials, not the full menu. 

“You been here before?” Satoru asked, picking up his menu opposite me and skimming through it. 

“Yeah, for lunch. Crazy, it’s usually packed to the brim around this time of day...” I trailed off, looking around the wide-open dining area, “I wonder why it’s empty.” 

Satoru gently placed his menu back down and met my gaze with his own, “The place is ours for the next hour.” He clarified, “I wanted to make sure we could talk privately without anyone butting in—especially with all the media buzz around us this morning.” He said so simply, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. 

“Oh...!” I said, eyes slightly widened in surprise. He reserved the entire steakhouse for us?? With only a few hours' notice?! I was just really starting to see the breadth of the Gojo family’s influence. I mean I’d been trying to get a dinner reservation here for the past two years with no luck! 

Satoru quirked a brow, curious to the expression on my face, “Is that alright?” 

I quickly nodded over and over, still a little shocked, “Oh, yes, of course!” Act cool, Lena. I settled back into the comfy leather booth, picking up my tall menu card to hide my blushing. My eyes scanned through the long list of starters and entrees with no prices. 

“You want anything to start?” Satoru asked and I slid my menu down, so my eyes peeked over the top. 

“Um, I don’t know, everything looks so good.” I finally placed my menu back down on the table when my cheeks no longer felt as warm, biting the inside of my lip. 

“I’m pretty hungry.” Satoru noted, “If I got the chilled grand plateau for two, would you share it with me?” 

My eyes spotted the appetizer on the menu; it was a chilled platter with lobster tails, grilled clams, shrimp cocktail and oysters on the half shell. I gulped at the sound of it all. Seafood was my favorite food, “Yeah, that looks delicious. I’d have some.” I said calmly, trying to hide my excitement. 

“What do you like to drink here?” Satoru continued to scan his menu, flipping it over to check out the cocktails. 

“Well, I usually don’t since I’ve only come for lunch and typically have to go back to work after, but the highball spritzer mocktail is yummy.” 

“Sounds good to me.” Just as Satoru spoke, a waitress with short black hair approached our booth. 

“Hi, I’m Mai. I’ll be your server for today.” Her face looked strangely familiar... Almost like Maki Zenin, the young F1 driver who’d shown quite some promise over the past year, “Can I start you with anything?” She turned to Satoru first. 

“We’ll start with the grand plateau, and two highball spritzers. Thank you.” 

The girl nodded once and started to move back towards the kitchen. 

Gojo turned his attention back to me, “So, how are you really doing, since this morning? Any updates?” 

“Uh, well, nothing too crazy since I muted the apps—just a few friends and people I work with texting, calling, and asking me about it.” I rubbed my hands together, then neatly interlocked my fingers on the table in front of me. My ex, too. I thought, but Satoru didn’t need to know all that. 

Satoru hummed, half-frowning, “I’m sorry this happened like this. I should’ve known better.” He shook his head to himself, “I guess it’d been so long since I’d dated, let alone publicly, I wasn’t even thinking about that.” 

“It’s ok—it's not like you’re the one who posted the pictures everywhere. When is the last time you dated?” I asked, curious. 

Satoru crossed his arms over his chest, thoughtfully, “Like, seriously tried to pursue someone? Maybe... three years ago?” 

“Wow, that is a long time.” My eyes widened to Satoru’s revelation. It was longer than me. If that was true, then I could definitely understand him forgetting about his obsessive fanbase and the nature of celebrity gossip in Tokyo. 

“It’s not like I haven’t done other things in the meantime, but yeah, the last time I seriously dated someone was years ago.” 

“Why’s that? And what do you mean by other things?” I asked, clueless. I picked up the glass of water closest to me and began to take a sip. 

Satoru shrugged, “Just no time, really. Or, maybe unconsciously I was too focused on work and didn’t want to make time for it. And by ‘other things’ I mean casual sex.” 

I nearly choked on my water but cleared my throat instead, taking a quick sip from my glass before setting it back down. Of course he was sexually active. Of course that was what he meant by ‘other things,’ “Oh... right.” I nodded. 

Satoru watched me with intrigue, the corners of his mouth just barely curving upwards, “What about you? When’s the last time you dated?” 

“Two years ago. It was before I moved back here.” I explained, playing with the stem of my water glass. 

Satoru cocked his head to one side, arms still crossed, “Relationship?” I nodded in response to his question. He swiftly asked another, “Did you love him?” 

I blinked a few times to the intimate nature of the question, a bit thrown off guard, “Uh, yeah. I don't think he did, though…” I said honestly, “Did you... love the last person you dated?” I looked back up at Satoru. 

He simply shook his head, “It was someone my parents wanted for me, so it didn’t work out.” 

I nodded, unable to help biting my lip at the silence that followed the last of Satoru’s words. I finally spoke up, remembering what I wanted to say, “Can I ask you something?” 

“Of course.” Satoru said, unfolding his thick arms and gently resting them on the table. 

“Why are you okay with dating me publicly, but not the other girls you dated in the past?” I wanted to know his reasoning. Why was he okay with being seen with me, and why was he initially incognizant of how people and the media would react? 

Satoru leaned over the table, extending his hand to me. In response, I reached forward to place my hand in his. He really was the touchy type—I wouldn’t be surprised if his top love language was physical touch. Well, nearly every man’s top love language was. Was Satoru touchy, or was I just unused to all of this? Some part of me had a feeling it was mostly the latter. We were dating, after all; the only difference was, he was used to more intimate touching, while I hadn’t done it in two years. 

Satoru smiled at me admiringly as he spoke, “Lena, you’re smart... beautiful... kind... and you care about your work, just as much as I care about my own. I’m okay with dating you publicly, because you’re the woman I want to be seen with. No offense to the others I’ve dated and been unsure about, and I know things are still fresh and new between us, but I know that much—that I haven’t met anyone like you before.” Satoru paused, “Sorry I didn’t say all of this before, but I don’t think I even consciously knew how I felt until I really thought about it this morning. It’s only been four days since we met, after all.” He grinned. 

“Yeah,” I exhaled, smile growing, “it feels like it’s been much longer.” I admitted, propping my free arm up on the table to rest my chin in my palm. I slid my hand up to cover my mouth and cheeks, already blushing again. 

“Glad I’m not alone.” Satoru mirrored my expression, blue eyes softening as he gazed over me. His fingers began to gently knead at mine, “You shouldn’t hide your face so much, you know.” He added, and his voice sounded completely different, like there was no one else in this restaurant but us. 

I allowed my hand that was covering my lips and cheeks to slip back down to the white tablecloth, bashfully revealing my face once more. Just then, or waitress returned with our drinks. We let go of each other’s hands, giving the girl room to place our mocktails on the table, “Two highball spritzers... And your appetizer will be out soon.” She nodded once and departed again. 

“Thank you.” I smiled at her, while Satoru still kept his eyes on me. I wondered what he was thinking about? From the look in his eyes, it wasn’t anything family friendly. I took a sip of my mocktail, and Satoru did the same. 

“This is pretty good.” He noted, looking down at the glass, “Almost tastes like soda. Oh—” He seemed to remember something, “there’s a publicist I want you to meet; she’s a social media expert, too. Name’s Nobara Kugisaki. We briefly chatted earlier, but it seems like the situation on your social accounts is something she can easily fix by deleting and limiting comments from people you aren’t following. She had some more recommendations, too. If you want, I could give her your info...” 

“Yeah, that’s... probably a good idea.” I fidgeted with my fingers for a moment, “That would be great. Thanks, Satoru.” 

“You’re the Style VP of one of the biggest luxury sports car companies in the country, let alone world—you should have a publicist. Geez, I can’t imagine all the work you’ve had to do on your own these past few years.” Satoru smiled, shaking his head. 

“Yeah, sifting through media opps on my own has taken a lot more time since I got my role, almost feels like a job on its own, sometimes.” 

“That’s because it is.” Satoru pulled out his phone and began to tap around before typing something, “I’m sending her your number. She should give you a call later today so you can connect on next steps.” 

“Thanks, Satoru, for doing all this...” I smiled over at him, and he looked up from his phone to wink at me. 

 “Of course, babe. It’s the least I can do.” He paused, continuing to type out a message before seemingly hitting send and locking his phone again, “Now, with that settled... We still on for our date this weekend?” Satoru grinned. 

I rolled my eyes playfully, “Oh my god, you and this date!” I smiled and shook my head, “Yes, we’re still on.” 

Satoru silently cheered to himself, then responded, “Anything you’re in the mood for?” 

“Well, I did just get this outdoor pizza oven at my place in Yamanashi... Wanna come over and test it out? Plus, I’d really like to look at my new Nakamura painting there some more...” I trailed off, alluding to the piece he’d bought me on our first date; even though its insane cost of 521 million yen was nothing to Satoru, it meant a lot to me. 

“I’m glad you’re enjoying it so much.” Satoru smiled sincerely, before taking another sip of his mocktail, “Would rather you were looking at me though.” He winked before taking another sip. 

I rolled my eyes, dropping my face into my hands dramatically, “You and these cheesy fucking lines... Stop it!” I laughed. 

~ 

Later that week, on Friday night to be specific, I made sure to take off work exactly at six so I could grab a few things from the grocery store before heading to grandpa’s place: apple cider, cinnamon sticks, and barrel-aged whisky—the three main components of his favorite fall time cocktail. After a day of reviewing the new Okamoto model’s safety checks with the legal team at work, I’d changed out of my usual business clothes and into a comfy, myrtle green, silk midi skirt and a slightly lighter mock neck sweater. 

When I arrived at grandpa’s, I pulled into the short driveway. Even with all of his wealth, not only as the past CEO of Okamoto group but as a retired F1 driver himself, grandpa was never one to live grandly. He enjoyed simplicity, saving money, fine-tuning his cars in the garage, and enjoying the retired life in his tight-knit neighborhood’s community. I parked my sky blue, 1968 Lamborghini Miura S and hopped out with my tote bag of cocktail supplies slung over my shoulder, fishing for my key to grandpa’s place as I shut the heavy car door behind me. 

“Grandpa, I’m home!” I called from the entryway when I opened his front door, quirking a brow upwards when I didn’t hear a reply, “Grandpa...?” Maybe he was in the garage? I walked down the hall and towards the kitchen, breathing a little sigh of relief when I heard the familiar metal clink of a tire rim coming from the room just behind it. I dropped my bags on the countertop and headed towards the stream of warm light pouring out from the open door to the garage. It was a big, open space—perhaps larger than the rest of the house combined. It was a ten-car garage with all the tools, gear, and vintage tech a car nerd could dream of. I spotted him in a small folding chair beside the front passenger tire, fastening a lug nut onto it. I furrowed my brows in concern, “Grandpa...! You’re not supposed to be bending like that!” I put my hands on my hips, disapprovingly. 

“Hey, Lena-chan—perfect timing!” He stood from his seated and bent position next to the tire, a long, metal lug nut wrench in his hand, “Help your old man out, would you?” 

I pouted as I approached my grandfather, but hugged him tight, regardless, “Hi, grandpa. You should’ve waited for me to get here! The doctor told you not to strain your back, you know.” I reminded him, offering him an accusatory point before retrieving the wrench from his hand. He was a few inches shorter than me with short gray hair and a small beer belly, and he currently wore an old, slightly oily mechanic’s jumpsuit. I hiked my skirt up a little, and moved the chair away from the old, cherry-colored 1971 Okamoto H7 model as I didn’t need it. I knelt on one knee and tightly fastened the remaining lug nut before checking and tightening the ones on the other tires, “Did you fasten all of these by yourself??” 

“I’m fine, Lena-chan. Your grandpa’s not that old!” The man laughed heartily, and the way his deep dimples and wrinkles curved up into a full-face smile made my heart warm. No matter where I found myself, if I was away from home then I was always missing him. 

I pointed the long end of the wrench in my grandpa’s direction, “If you don’t take it easy, I’m gonna change the locks to your garage!” My pout grew. 

Grandpa raised his hands in surrender, “Okay, okay! I promise to take it easy. Now, more importantly, did you bring the goodies?” He clasped his hands together with a grin. 

“Mhm, all the ingredients for our special cider!” I nodded, putting the wrench back in its place on a nearby worktable. I wiped my hands off with a rag that rested on the corner of it. 

"Let’s get to it, then!” 

A little later, we sat on the couch in front of the western style fireplace with mugs of spiked apple cider in our hands. Remote in his free hand, Grandpa flipped through the various movie channels on the TV that was mounted up above the fire. He passed through various movie channels but paused when I rested my head on his shoulder, tired and already feeling the alcohol settle throughout my body. I realized that I hadn’t drank in a while, and that I was exhausted—even after a half-week of work, “Grandpa? Can I stay here for the night?” I nudged his shoulder with my cheek. 

Grandpa put the remote down on his lap and wrapped his arm around me, eyes currently fixed on an old western movie that played on the large screen before us, “Of course you can stay. It’s your home.” He stroked my hair with his hand, and I put my mug down on the coffee table before us to wrap my arms around him comfortably. 

Before I’d gone to boarding school for high school, Grandpa’s place had become a real home to me since I was a kid. I’d found myself in constant fights with my dad and stepfamily growing up, so much so that grandpa decided to take me in. Grandpa had been there when my nightmares were at their worst, too, always there to scoop me up into his arms and soothe me back to sleep after the painful memories of losing my mom and of my father’s fits of anger tormented me. Grandpa was the closest thing I had to a dad. In fact, after legally being my guardian for some time, teaching me everything he knew, and caring for me when no one else would, he truly was. 

Grandpa put his mug down on the table next to mine and picked up the remote again, continuing to scroll through the channels until he passed a local celebrity news channel—the image of Satoru and I kissing plastered all over the big screen. I jumped upright and made a noise of surprise at the image on the local channel, jaw dropping to the sight of a celebrity news reporter talking about the situation. 

“-the steamy picture seems to have been taken in front of the Tokyo Bay Yacht Club, and features Okamoto Group Chief Designer and VP of Style, Lena Okamoto, mid-kiss with Satoru Gojo. Gojo fans all over the internet have buzzing about these photos, primarily wondering if this is Tokyo's most eligible bachelor’s new girlfriend. What do you think? Tweet us your thoughts at—” 

“Agh!!” I reached over and clicked the channel button in grandpa’s hand, quickly flipping it to some variety TV show on the one following. 

I looked over at grandpa, then threw my face into my hands, embarrassed. Even without looking, I could feel his direct eyes on me. He was silent for a moment, then suddenly spoke up, “You think I haven’t heard about you and the Gojo kid?” He asked simply. 

I sat up again, dropping my hands to my lap and returning my gaze to grandpa, “You... you know about this?” 

“It’s all everyone’s been talking to me about.” Grandpa scoffed out a quick laugh, “You wouldn’t believe the people who’ve called to ask me about that in the past few days...” He trailed off. 

“People have been asking you about it??” I suddenly felt anxious. 

“Just some old connections, and friends from Okamoto Group.” He crossed his arms over his chest, “You think ‘cause I’m old I don’t keep up with the latest news? You two are quite the talk of the city right now.” 

I groaned and leaned back into the sofa, allowing my head to roll back on it so that I was looking up at the ceiling, “This is crazy...!” 

“I was just wondering when you were going to tell me about this. You used to always talk to me about your boyfriends and such.” He half-frowned, seemingly disappointed about being left out of the loop—except I’d never intended him to be. Things were just too new with Satoru! 

I straightened up once more, looking at grandpa, “That’s because he’s not even my boyfriend! We’ve only been on one date! Of course, I would’ve told you if it was serious.” 

Grandpa retrieved his mug from the table, “Well, you already know what I have to say about it. I don’t care who the guy is; if he hurts you, then I have to kill him.” He simply shrugged before taking a long swig of spiked cider. 

I rolled my eyes and laughed once, “Oh my god, grandpa... Please be serious.” 

“What do you mean? I’m completely serious.” Grandpa blinked, having said the words without emotion. 

Grandpa simply stared at me, and I, back at him. Then, we abruptly busted out laughing. 

He placed his hand on my shoulder as our laughing died down, “But Lena-chan, I know how you can get about these sorts of things. I know you’re an introverted person, and this situation with the Gojo kid is probably a shock for you, but you can’t let these people get to you. People will always want something or someone to gossip about. It’s up to you to live your life confidently without any reservations. The best thing you can do in these kinds of situations, situations where it seems like everyone has something to say, is to be successful—to be your very best self.” 

I nodded to grandpa’s words, staring aimlessly into the space before me after he finished talking to think for a moment. Then I turned back to him, “But what about the board? What if all this news impacts my job?” 

“Something this small?” Grandpa crossed his arms again and shook his head, “It won’t. If anything, all this talk about you is good for the business. Actually, I wouldn’t be surprised if we saw a spike in vehicle sales soon. Trust me, people much higher in leadership have given our family company far worse press.” 

I knew exactly who he was talking about. Toji. Though Toji was undefeated in his business endeavors whenever he actually was working, his issues were the situations he found himself in after working hours, “That’s true.” I agreed, reaching over to retrieve my cup once more to take a sip. 

“So, when am I going to meet Satoru Gojo?” 

“Grandpa!” 

“What?? I just want to give him a stern talking-to.” 

I shook my head, laughing softly, “Don’t try to scare him off yet, we’ve only had one date! I’ll bring him over and introduce him only when we’re serious... If things become serious, that is.” 

“If he can’t take the heat then he’s no good for you anyways.” Grandpa shrugged, “But seriously, Lena-chan, as long as he treats you like the princess you are, then he’s alright with me.” He nodded with finality, then cleared his throat, “But if he hurts you, I’ll kill him.” 

“Grandpa!” I guffawed. 

~ 

 The following night I found myself diligently organizing pizza ingredients into small bowls on my long kitchen island, my homemade pizza dough already portioned out, proofed, and stretched over two personal sized pizza pans for Satoru and me. I kept the toppings fairly simple: marinara, fresh mozzarella, basil, tomatoes, prosciutto, chicken, caramelized onions, and grated parmesan. I’d popped a bottle of dry red sangiovese for myself, and even managed to find a sweet, non-alcoholic red for Satoru from a specialty bar in Yamanashi.

I’d checked the entire house at least four times by now, making sure that there were a few scented candles lit around the wide living room and kitchen area, and that the old record player was lowly buzzing and crackling with jazz music from my Italian grandma’s favorite—the Live John Coltrane Newport ’63 album. Everything was in its place, or, as much as it could be, seeing as the renovations on the back deck were still a work in progress. I took a long sip of sangiovese to calm my nerves, swirling the remaining liquid around in my wine glass after and biting my bottom lip. I couldn’t help but be a bit nervous. I hadn’t organized a date in years, let alone invited a man to my place in Yamanashi before. Maybe, in that way, I was a lot like Satoru when it came to his favorite boat. But it was a cozy date at my house, and my period had ended a few days ago, now, so… What if we ended up having se—

The sound of the doorbell jolted me from my thoughts, and I put my glass down on the countertop before making my way toward the front entrance in a maxi, light sepia lounge dress and long taupe cardigan that were both soft to the touch. I smoothed out the material one last time before opening the door with a smile, “Hi.”

“Hey, Lena.” Satoru leaned coolly against the entryway with his arm propped up above him, wearing a brown, knitted crewneck sweater with a simple white t-shirt underneath, and loose-fitting, dark brown, and pleated corduroy trousers with black tabi boots. He had a huge and carefully arranged bouquet of white orchids in his hand that he extended to me, “These are for you. They say orchids are good for new homes, and I thought that since you’re renovating the place…”

“Oh my god, thank you, Satoru! I love white flowers.” My smile grew as he passed me the bouquet and I took a deep inhale, “Come in!”

I embraced Satoru in a hug after he slipped off his boots in the genkan area by the door, stretching up on my tip toes to press a kiss to his cheek. He hugged me and pecked my cheek back in return, pausing to appreciate the fabric of my lounge dress after doing so, “Oh, this is nice… I like it.” Satoru rubbed up and down my back and sides with an intrigued hum and I giggled to his exploring hands.

“Thank you. You look handsome, too.” I smiled sweetly, and we finally broke apart, “You want a little tour before we make pizzas?”

“Absolutely.”

“Oh, let me put these in some water first.” I walked back toward the kitchen, fetching the pair of green stem trimmers out of a drawer in the kitchen island, and a large ceramic vase from a cabinet underneath the sink. I set all of the supplies on the table and turned back to Satoru to find him sitting down on one of the highchairs on the opposite side of island counter, “Want something to drink? There’s…” I picked up the unopened specialty bottle I’d gotten for Satoru to jog my memory, “a non-alc, sweet red wine, if you wanna try some.”

“Thanks, babe, you didn’t have to get a special bottle for me. But yeah, I’d love some.”

“I’m part Italian, you know. My mom and grandma would turn in their graves if I served you pizza without any wine.” I opened the twist cap and poured out a small serving into the bulbous, wide rimmed glass that matched mine, sliding it across the granite counter for Satoru to try, “Let me know what you think.”

Satoru poked his nose into the opening of the glass to take a light sniff, then took a small sip and paused before quickly downing the rest of the bit of liquid. He set the glass back down, “Damn, that’s good… Tastes like juice!”

“I’m glad you like it.” I smiled, before pouring him a more generous serving. I moved on to the orchids after, filling the vase with a little water then beginning to trim each of the thick ends of the flowers’ stems.

“How was your day so far?” Satoru asked before taking another sip of his drink.

“Pretty good, just was getting the house ready for this.” I clipped the end of a stem at the end of my words.

“All day?” Satoru rose a brow.

“Mhm, there’s been a lot of construction here over the past few months, so there was a lot of dust and stuff to clean up.”

“You don’t have to do all that for me.” Satoru said with a slightly contradicting, pleased smirk.

“Satoru, I’m not bringing you or anyone into a dirty house—which was why I was so caught off guard by the painting you sent me earlier this week. I mean, thankfully my study’s been in good condition, but still…” I shook my head, thinking of the crazy price point on that first date gift yet again, “But I love it, so thank you.” I said the last part with an endearing tone.

“You’re very welcome, Lena.” Satoru matched my tone but with a much lower voice.

“What about you? How was your day?” I continued snapping away at the ends of the flowers, curling my mouth a bit as I struggled with one particular stem that felt hard as steel.

“It was good, did a little work then—” Satoru was cut off when I finally trimmed the end of one of the orchids; the piece of stem immediately went flying in the air and hit him square in the forehead, “Ow.”

Though it had been a complete accident, I couldn’t help the deep, honest laugh that followed when I saw the small red mark on Satoru’s head. I even pointed in his direction as I guffawed.

Satoru stood to his feet, beginning to grin, “Oh you think that’s funny?” He started to approach me, walking around the kitchen island, “You think that’s funny, Lena?” Satoru easily grabbed and lifted me up, nuzzling his head into the crook of my neck to gently nibble at my skin there, “Attacking people with flower stems??”

“No…!” I giggled out with a big smile, nearly out of breath from laughing so much, “I didn’t mean to…!” I playfully fought back, wriggling around in Satoru’s grasp.

“You’ll pay for that!” Satoru lifted my hips up so that I sat on the counter closest to the wall, continuing to nibble at my neck and earlobe as he prodded and tickled me with his fingers.

I jerked around in Satoru’s hands, “Stop…! Haha, I can’t breathe!” I laughed out, but stopped when I noticed that Satoru had suddenly froze, his hands resting on my butt, “What’s—” I started, but Satoru jumped in.

Satoru backed his head up enough to look me in my eyes, “You’re not wearing any underwear…” It was definitely a statement, but Satoru had said the words more like a question. Then it dawned on me: The fabric of my lounge dress was thin; he could probably easily feel my bare skin just beneath it…

My entire face burned bright red to Satoru’s words. I wasn’t. But who could blame me? I’d been at the house all day and had honestly forgotten!

Satoru pressed his forehead to mine, voice turning deep and velvety, “You always walk around like that…?”

“N-No!” I stuttered out, embarrassed, yet intoxicated by the way Satoru spoke.

“Or is it just for me?” Satoru cooed shameless and confidently, lips now ghosting over my ear. It was like he knew he was driving me crazy. He began to kiss my neck just below, gently licking and sucking there as soft moans fled my sighing mouth.

Somehow, against my own physical desires, I managed to tap Satoru’s shoulder for him to stop, “T-Tour…! The tour!” I gasped out. I spoke again when I caught my breath, “Let me show you the house.” I tucked my curls behind my ear, still blushing profusely. I shifted my legs as well, feeling a familiar, wetness between them when I moved.

Satoru broke away, now looking into my eyes with his piercing blue, and very visibly turned on as his breathing had grown slightly deeper, “Sure. Yeah, let’s see the place.” He nodded a bit mindlessly, still sort of regaining his composure.

I hopped off the counter and took Satoru’s hand, leading him to the next room, “Come with me.” I smirked, looking over my shoulder at him.

About an hour or so later, Satoru and I had ended the house tour in my study; with me admiring the Nakamura painting with my glass of wine in hand, and Satoru at my desk checking out my car design sketch book. We’d paused for a quick pizza break as well, and while I’d decided on marinara, mozzarella, prosciutto, parmesan and basil for my toppings, Satoru had fished the barbeque sauce out of my fridge to create a barbecue chicken pizza with mozzarella and caramelized onions on top—a choice I’d initially refused to try at first, especially as a pizza purist, but ended up taking a bite of anyways. The new pizza oven on the back patio must’ve had magic in it, because every pizza that that we put in it came out absolutely delicious.

“These are fucking amazing.” Satoru noted, before flipping a page in my sketchbook, “How the hell do you even think up this kinda stuff?” He looked up from the desk at me.

I shrugged, then took another sip of sangiovese.

Satoru put down the sketch pad, then stood up to approach a glass-lined bookcase filled with black binders, each labeled with different car model names. They weren’t all Okamoto cars, either. There were a number of Porsche, Lamborghini, Ferrari, Maserati, Mercedes, BMW, Corvette, Bugatti, Toyota, and Alfa Romeo ones as well, and they all totaled to about 75 binders, “What’s all this?” Satoru asked, picking up the 2022 Ferrari F8 Tributa binder with white lining and flipping through it.

“Those are some of my favorite car models, organized by make and in order by my personal most to least favorites. Each binder has full engine and body mechanics mockups, notes, and news clippings; and the black binders with white lining are ones I’ve worked on. I strode a little close to Satoru, looking over his shoulder as he flipped through the laminated pages. A few of the pages were even scrapbook-style, featuring cute mementos like article clippings from F1 races and ‘eureka’ moment-esque physics equations my team and I had scribbled down on pub napkins after hours. After all the pages with engine and car images, the last page in this binder featured a polaroid picture of me and my old mechanics production team at Ferrari, signed with everyone’s names and farewell messages written all over the page in Italian. In the black and white image, we were all beside the Autodromo Nazionale Monza track, and the team had snapped a picture of us all mid-laugh as they tossed me into the air above them.

Satoru chuckled at the sight of the picture of me laughing in my greasy racing mechanic suit, then turned to me with an admiring smile, “Lena, you’re amazing… You put all of these binders together yourself?”

I nodded shyly, as this sort of car model scrapbooking had become a personal passion and nerdy obsession of mine. Though I’d only started making the binders ten years ago, my goal was at least to have 500 of them by the time I was old and retired. I wanted enough black binders to fill an entire wall—not just a bookcase.

Satoru closed the binder and put it back, slowly turning to fully face me. His affectionate smile remained on his lips, and he reached out to gently retrieve the glass of wine in my hand before safely placing it on the desk beside us. He then pulled me close, wrapping me in his arms before raising one of his hands to stroke my cheek. I rested my hands on Satoru’s white t-shirt, his brown sweater now long tossed aside to the corner of the room as he’d accidentally gotten some barbecue sauce on it earlier. I felt his chest muscles ripple beneath his shirt when he slid his hand down my back, eyes peering directly down into mine as his fingers brushed over my cheek.

Satoru looked at me in a way that was so sweet, calm, and unflinching, making me realize I didn’t believe I’d ever been looked at so intimately in my life. And he was so handsome, with his messily styled yet neatly trimmed white locks of hair, piercing azure gaze, toned body, spotless skin, and chiseled jaw. He opened his mouth to speak, “You’re the smartest, most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

I tilted my head backwards to chuckle, “Oh, stop.” I was flattered but shook my head in disbelief.

“No, seriously, Lena…” Satoru tilted my had back down so that I was looking up at him once more, “I’ve never met a woman as passionate about something as you are. That passion for something you love… It looks so beautiful on you.” Satoru stroked his thumb over my cheek, and I felt my face redden at his words. They were the kind that pulled on my heartstrings.

I stretched up a little more, closing the space between us more as I closed my eyes, and Satoru dipped his head down to press his lips to mine, sharply inhaling through his nose as he immediately deepened our kiss into a wildly passionate one. I reciprocated his energy, beginning to feel just as impatient. Even though it was only our second official date, I felt I’d ignored my desires to touch and be touched by Satoru so many times that I’d lost count.

I wrapped my arms around Satoru’s neck, pulling him into me even further. Our kiss turned far more heated when Satoru slid his tongue into my mouth, both of his hands now slipping up and down the curves of my lightly covered waist. The fabric shifted up under his touch, and the combination of his hand movements with his kissing started to make my head spin. I took the opportunity to push my hands up underneath his shirt, appreciating the solid muscles of his chest and abdomen.

Satoru huffed out a short chuckle between open-mouthed kisses, tongue swirling around mine, “That’s not fair…” He teased lowly, sliding the hands that had been on my waist down to my ass before tightly squeezing my cheeks there.

I moaned into his mouth and felt desire pool in my abdomen. I wanted to be out of this dress already. It was too damn long and warm. Satoru planted kisses down my face to my chin, neck, then finally my shoulder, prodding his hot tongue over the skin there every so often. I had the feeling he was starting to learn that I really liked being kissed there. Maybe it was the way light moans squeezed their way up and out my throat every time his mouth was there.

With Satoru’s squeezing hands and skilled lips moving all over me, I began to pant to the lust that was taking over me. Somehow, I mustered up the strength to tell him for the first time what I really wanted, “Satoru, c-can we… move to my bedroom?”

“Baby, you can have whatever you want.” Satoru abruptly reached down to grab the backs of my thighs, pulling me up into his arms. I made a sound of surprise but smirked, quickly wrapping my legs around his waist and my arms around his shoulders to regain some balance. Satoru easily walked us out of my study, down the hall, and into my bedroom, kissing me all the while. And instead of tossing me onto the bed and ripping his clothes off like I was typically used to, Satoru sat me down on the bed, sitting right beside me and joining our lips once more before tipping us back onto the bed.

Satoru hovered into the space above me, holding his weight in his forearms on either side of my head as he kissed me hungrily. He broke away after a moment, resting back on his knees in the space before me on the bed so that he could watch my every movement. His hands found my bare ankles and he raised them just a bit, slowly opening up my legs so that the fabric of my lounge dress slid up my smooth thighs, “So pretty…” Satoru’s eyes and attention then fully fixed themselves on the space between my legs, licking his lips and only looking back up into my eyes to ask me something, “Can I touch you…?” He asked, voice turning deep and sultry as he slid one of his hands up my inner thigh.

“Yes, please.” I begged in a small voice with a quick nod.

Gojo’s left hand continued to slowly slip up my inner thigh until he finally reached my pussy, long fingers finding the small nub of flesh before rubbing with an intensity I wasn’t expecting. I jerked on the bed a little, brows pushing together with a small wince. But Satoru immediately adjusted his pressure, easing up into small, gentle circles around my clit. My body quickly eased in response, and I sighed, beginning to feel the pleasure from his movements.

“You’re really sensitive, huh, Lena?” Satoru said lowly, voice pure velvet, “And wet…” He noted, settling himself down on the bed at my left side. He rested on his side as he rubbed me, watching my every expression and movement as I laid on my back. I looked down at his thick, toned arm between my legs, fingers rubbing, circling, and gently pinching my clit in a practiced sort-of-way that made my breath catch in my throat.

“Look at me, baby.” Satoru asked and I immediately complied, turning my head to look at him beside me, “How long have you been this wet? There’s no way you’re this drenched after a few minutes of kissing...” Satoru paused in his circling to retrieve his and from between my legs, showing me his wet fingers in the dim light of my bedroom, “See? Look…” He turned his hand around and slowly parted his index and middle fingers, a lewd string of my juices appearing and on full display.

I blushed and turned my eyes back to Satoru’s face, nearly whimpering my answer I was so turned on, “Since… you kissed me on the counter…” I panted out, honestly.

“Oh, beautiful… That was over an hour ago.” Satoru returned his hand to the spot between my legs, continuing to rub me gently, just how I liked, “You’ve wanted to be touched for that long?”

I nodded shyly.

“Say it.” Satoru’s attention lowered to my neck, and he slid my long curls away to kiss it. I moaned at the combination of his lips and fingers on my body.

“I’ve wanted you to touch me for so long…!” I nearly cried out, still only speaking just above a whisper.

“Fuck, Lena…” Satoru cursed, burying his face into the pillow beside my head, before turning to speak again, “I’m trying my fucking hardest to take things slow with you…” He pressed his lips to my ear to say the next part, “But every part of me craves you.” Satoru’s fingers continued to rub gentle circles around my clit and I moaned, rocking my hips up into his hand. He chuckled to this, teasingly pulling his hand back to leave me wanting. His hand slid up my thigh instead, pushing up the fabric even further, “Let’s get this off.”

I aided Satoru in removing my lounge dress, lifting my hips and pulling the fabric up and over my head. I do my best to push my long black curls away from my face that had been frazzled by taking off my clothes, only then realizing I was completely bare as the dress had a built-in bra. I watched Satoru slowly look my entire body over, before he mouthed the word ‘fuck.’

I suddenly felt a bit shy, as I was the only one naked while Satoru was still fully clothed, “Um, what about you?” I asked, looking up at him.

Satoru stroked my cheek, then allowed his hand to slide down my neck and chest, “Patience, Lena…” He cooed and leaned in to kiss my lips, down my neck, and to my chest—already grabbing handfuls of my breasts and taking turns licking and sucking each of my nipples.

“Mmh…!” I moaned abruptly to the new sensation, mind starting to spin from all the attention Satoru was paying to my body.

“God, you’re fucking perfect…” Satoru paused to look me up and down again, then his gaze lifted and directly met mine, “You got any toys here, babe?” He continued to hold my chest, thumbs circling over my hardened nipples.

I blinked to the question. A man had never asked me that before, “Uh, yeah. Just one… Why?”

Satoru immediately slipped off the bed and stood up, “Where?”

“Um, bottom drawer.” I tilted my head in the direction of the bedside dresser to my right, swallowing a bit nervously as I was unsure of what Satoru would do next.

Satoru dropped into a squat and opened the drawer, retrieving the only item that was in it—a clit sucking and stimulating device. He grinned when he grabbed the handle and brandished it at me, “You keep it this close, huh?”

I shrugged silently, cheeks still red.

Satoru returned to his spot right next to me on the bed, lying on his side once more before offering me the toy, “Show me how you do it.” He smirked.

I took the toy’s handle into my hand, then glanced up to meet Satoru’s eyes, “By myself?” I questioned, “But I want you to touch me…” I batted my eyelashes up at him, pleading.

“We have all night for that.” He stroked my cheek, brushing a curl away from my face, “Don’t worry, beautiful, I’ll give you everything you want.”

I held the white button on the toy with my index and it softly buzzed to life. I turned its head downwards, closing my eyes as I placed the small silicone opening on my clit. I sighed in relief from the stimulation—though it wasn’t exactly what I wanted in this moment, it was something. I pressed the button again, increasing the toy’s vibration just slightly.

Though I had my eyes closed, I was sure that Satoru was watching me intently. His lips pressed to my ear and his tongue lapped over the shell of it, lewdly dipping in before sucking my earlobe, “Tell me what you’re thinking about, baby.” He breathed out, and his low voice made me twitch with excitement.

I propped my legs up on the bed, giving myself and the toy more access to my pussy. I furrowed my brows, mind going foggy at the pleasure I was receiving, “I don’t know…” I trailed off; though the last time I’d touched myself yesterday morning, it was the thought of Satoru’s hands that had sent me over the edge. He didn’t need to know that.

“Yes, you do.” Satoru nearly growled into my ear, “What, are you embarrassed? You can tell me…” He kissed just under my ear, then hotly lapped and sucked the skin at the crook of my neck. At this point, he was definitely going to leave a mark there.

I swallowed down the saliva that was pooling in my mouth, “Y-Your hands.” I admitted, blinking my eyes open to gaze at Satoru.

“Oh, these?” Satoru rose his brows and sat up so he could rub his hands over my legs and up my abdomen, all the way to my chest, “What about them?” He repeated his hand motions again, slowly stroking from my legs up to my breasts, “What do you think about them doing to you?”

I could feel my heart beat thickly in my chest. I bit my lip and remained silent, not really wanting to tell him about my licentious thoughts and desires. I was beginning to get lost in pleasure from the toy’s stimulation, anyhow.

Satoru paused in his rubbing and awaited my answer, then realized I wasn’t going to speak. In response, he swiftly reached down to retrieve the toy from between my legs and out of my grasp, “Now, that’s not fair,” Satoru started, half-frowning but only teasingly, “I’m part of your fantasies, but don’t even get to know how?”

I groaned out a whimper and shifted my hips on the bed, now that the source of my pleasure was gone. I pouted, already giving in, “Fine…!” I whined, speaking in a small voice, “I think about your hands… wrapping around my neck, and choking me.” I admitted and tucked my arms at my sides, unsure of what to do with them.

Satoru looked amused, like he wasn’t expecting me to say that. A wicked grin spread across his face, “Shit, babe. I thought you were gonna say something sweet like me holding you, or something…” He leaned close to me, gently placing his free hand around my neck. It was big and warm, and I could feel his thumb and index just barely press into the sides of it, “You’ve got a dirty mind, don’t you, Lena?” Satoru sighed out a single laugh, then returned the toy to the spot between my legs, causing me to jump a little when the silicone opening directly collided with my clit.

“Ah!” A moan fled from my lips, and my brows pushed together in a straight line when Satoru simultaneously pressed a little harder on the sides of my neck with his fingers. I felt wildly turned on all of a sudden; if this continued on, it wouldn’t be long before I came.

“Fuck, you’re sensitive. This is only the second setting on this thing…” Satoru eyed the toy in his hand curiously, then tapped the button, slightly increasing its vibration on the next setting.

My hips jerked upwards, and I began to moan repeatedly, feeling the pleasure start to radiate all over my body, “Satoru…” I warned, “M’gonna cum…!”

“Hm, enough of this.” Satoru pulled the toy away from between my legs and clicked around on the buttons until finally turning it off. He tossed it on the other end of the bed somewhere and let go of my neck as well.

“No!” I softly cried out, “Please…” I begged, upset at having been denied my orgasm.

“Please what?” Satoru asked for clarification, far calmer and more collected than I was presently.

“Please let me cum!” I said desperately, my pleading eyes looking up at Satoru who was hovering over me.

“I’ll let you cum as many times as you want, beautiful…” Satoru kissed between my breasts, slowly pecking his way down my abdomen, “You just have to be patient.” He said in between kisses, “I promise you’ll love it. Now, can I taste you?” Satoru asked, eyes staring up at mine as he moved to trail kisses up the inside of my thigh. He lowered himself flat on the bed before me, thick arms already propping my bent legs over his shoulders.

“Please!”

“Mm… Good girl. Begging so nicely…” Those two words made my head spin. Satoru finally descended his lips to between my legs, starting with a long lick up the glistening folds of my pussy—his eyes on me the entire time. I shuddered and gasped to his licking, my right hand moving to grip the white locks of hair at the back of his head. He paused to speak briefly, gently rubbing my clit with the pads of his fingers while he talked, “You taste so good, Lena. Knew this pussy would be perfect.”

I moaned when his mouth returned to my pussy, especially when he continued on to gently suck and tug on my labia with his lips. The slurping noises he made as he shamelessly ate me out were driving me mad, and my hips jerked around to all the strong sensations and pleasure he was giving me. I settled down a bit when Satoru returned to focusing and licking up, down, and around my pussy lips and clit; a pathetic and desperate moan fleeing my panting mouth when he found a particularly pleasing spot right next to my clit—my favorite spot… How the hell had he found that so fast?? Satoru’s gaze lifted back up to my face at my reaction, and he continued to lick, flick, and prod his tongue there at a steady pace.

I watched as Satoru devoured me and gripped his hair tighter at the sudden uptick in pleasure I was experiencing. I nodded my head quickly, “Yes! Ahh, right, there…!” My legs bent even tighter over Satoru’s shoulders, pulling him close to me while rocking my hips up into his mouth.

Satoru didn’t respond with words, but I watched the corners of his mouth curve up into a smirk as he licked me, “Mhm…” He hummed, picking up the pace even more and shifting one of his arms to press his middle finger to my wet entrance. Satoru slowly pushed his finger into my pussy, working the long digit in and out of me while he continued to lick my clit.

I didn’t need to warn him this time. The loud desperation on my face and in my helpless moans were enough to signal to Satoru that I was going to cum, and hard, at that. But I cried his name, regardless, “Satoru!” My mind went blank just after, and the noise that escaped my throat was hardly human. I grunted and clenched hard around Satoru’s finger and my eyes briefly rolled back, hips jerking and spasming with every wave of the intense orgasm that took over me. Though Satoru didn’t back away and held my hips down with his arm, licking me through every second of my climax.

I was left a panting mess beneath him when he was finished with me, my legs shaking and trembling when his mouth and hand parted with my pussy. I looked up to catch my wetness all over Satoru’s lips and chin, nearly dripping down to his t-shirt from the abundance of it. He wiped his chin and grinned. I needed to be close to him again. I was grateful when he lowered himself down over me, his lips taking mine in a deep, lewd kiss. I tasted myself on his tongue and hummed into his mouth, slowly coming down from my mind-altering orgasm.

“Better?” Satoru asked between kisses, smirking.

I quickly nodded over and over, “Yeah…” I sighed, still a little out of breath, “Much better.” The toy was nothing in comparison to Satoru’s mouth.

“See? You just gotta trust me… You’re so cute.” Satoru grinned, showering me in light kisses.

“Satoru?”

“Yes, babe?”

“Do you have a condom?”

Satoru looked surprised by my words, yet again, and quirked a brow upwards, his smile just slightly growing, “Yeah, I always keep one in my wallet. Why do you ask?” He feigned cluelessness, just trying to get me to utter my desires aloud once more.

“I want you.” I said in a soft voice, trailing my hand down his chest and to his abdomen, “I want you to feel good, too.”

“What do you want of me? Be specific, Lena… Communication is important.” He cooed deeply into my ear, his tone flirty and enticing.

“I… I want your dick inside of me…!” My face reddened bashfully as I admitted what I wanted.

Satoru chuckled and sat back for a moment, amused, “You just came and already want more, beautiful? I mean it’s fine by me, but, just curious… How many rounds do you typically like?”

I blinked a few times, still dazed, “I don’t know, I haven’t had sex in a few years.”

Satoru looked the most shocked I’d ever seen him, eyes blown wide and jaw practically on the floor, “A few years??!?! How long is a few years??!!”

“Like, two?”

“Shit, Lena. How the hell do you manage that?” Satoru asked the clearly rhetorical question just above a whisper, shaking his head to himself and already reaching for his wallet in the back of his trousers. He opened one of the pockets and retrieved a large foil packet before passing it to me, “Hold that for me, please.”

Satoru stood to his feet beside the bed, quickly making work of his shirt by pulling it over his head, then undoing his belt before sliding it, his pants, and his underwear down and off his legs in one go. Now freed from the confines of his pants, Satoru’s dick sprang to life, and nothing could’ve prepared me for seeing the size of it—not even having already seen his bulge a few times now. He was massive. At least 24cm or 9.5in long, girthy, cut, and completely shaved other than the light trail of white hair below his navel. I blinked, wide-eyed and mouth agape as he rejoined me on the bed, slipping the condom from my seemingly frozen fingers, I was so still with shock, “Uhh… wow, um… You’re huge.”

Satoru exhaled a short chuckle and leaned close to me while he broke open the packet, pecking my lips before speaking, “Don’t worry babe, it’ll fit.” He assured me. But would it, really?! I couldn’t help but wonder, “It’ll be a tight fit, but it will, and I’ll make you feel amazing. You just have to trust me, okay?” Satoru glanced down to roll the condom down the thick length of his dick, slowly spitting down onto himself to make it extra slick. He leaned in again, holding his weight on one arm beside my waist, and using his other hand to guide his dick to my pussy. I felt him, impossibly thick and heavy, press and prod against my entrance, “You trust me, babe?” Satoru spoke lowly into my ear, tone husky and heavy with lust.

“Yes…” I sighed lightly, beginning to feel slightly nervous. Satoru hadn’t given me a reason not to trust him.

“Then relax for me.” Satoru’s voice nearly made me dizzy, it was so hot. My pelvic floor muscles clenched in response. I took a deep breath, trying to release the tension in my body. Just as I relaxed some, I felt Satoru push in a little. I released a high-pitched moan in response and Satoru mumbled praises into my ear, “That’s good, Lena, now relax your hips for me…” He talked me through every inch of him, and now that the tip was in, his hand that had guided his dick slid around my side to sweetly rub and knead my hip, “Come on, baby, open up for me.” Satoru murmured the words into my ear, nearly whispering.

“Oh, fuck… You’re too fucking big…” I whined at Satoru’s size, doing my best to relax though his dick was stretching me unlike anything I’d ever experienced before. It didn’t help that I’d been out of practice for two years. The next time I exhaled, his length pushed in some more, and I reflexively pulsed around his dick, a groan falling from my lips.

“Yes.” Satoru praised, “That’s it—you’re doing so well, baby.” He slowly pushed into me even more and I moaned again, unable to help but briefly clench around him again. Satoru buried his face in the pillow beside me with a long groan, “Fuck… You feel fucking insane, Lena…” His lips returned to my ear, tone absolutely wanton, “You know you keep squeezing me like crazy? You want me that much? Let me give you what you need then, beautiful.” His dirty talk was going to drive me insane.

Satoru slowly thrusted in a little more, and I sighed in relief, assuming that was the last bit of him.

“Just a little bit more, okay?”

“M-More?!” I gasped, in disbelief. I rolled my head back on the pillow and moaned helplessly to the surprising yet pleasant fullness in my abdomen. Though Satoru was huge, he’d gone so slow enough that I’d hardly felt any discomfort. He hotly licked up the length of my exposed neck before joining our mouths in a messy kiss. He pushed the rest of the way in, and we broke our kiss with moans as we were finally skin to skin. I’d never been stretched and filled to capacity like this—it was making my mind fuzzy.

Satoru moved his hand from my hip to my knee, lifting the underside of it to prop over his shoulder. My hips rose slightly from this new position, and I felt Satoru’s dick press and nudge against my cervix because of it. I whimpered and shuddered to this, and Satoru backed up enough to gaze gown at me, eyes examining my expression in a protective sort-of-way, “You okay?”

“Yes,” I started, brows knit tightly, “just, slow, please…” I moaned lightly and allowed my eyes to flutter shut for a moment, “Shit, you’re deep.”

Satoru rolled his hips against mine and I opened my eyes again, a smirk spread across his face, “Yeah, think I’m the deepest I can go.” He teased cockily, feeling his tip press against my cervix, “But I told you it would fit, didn’t I?”

“Shut up.” I huffed out, managing a quick laugh. Satoru joined in with a chuckle of his own, and I immediately felt the tension and anxiety release from my body.

Satoru rested his forehead against mine, “Only if you make me, babe.” He challenged, retreating his hips before pumping into me again. I gasped to the feeling, unable to help my loud moaning and groaning with every one of his thrusts that followed. Though slow in speed, they had a good amount of force behind them, and the delicious friction of Satoru slipping his cock almost completely out before fully pumping back into me was starting to make a familiar, hot pressure build in my abdomen. Satoru continued to tease with his dirty talk as he peered down at me, “I think I have a better chance of making you scream my name. What do you think?”

“Ah—” I made a quick sound of surprise when Satoru mixed in a few shallow thrusts with his long ones, and my back arched on the bed, his dick perfectly prodding against the bundle of nerves deep inside of me, “Satoru…!” I cried, reaching down with one hand to grasp and attempt to pull his hips into mine.

“Yes, Lena?” Satoru said coolly with a knowing smile. He seemed so perfectly calm and in control, compared to my messy, lust-filled mind.

“Please!” I gripped and pulled his hip in tighter.

“Please what? Remember what I said earlier, about communication?” Satoru continued to stroke into me over and over as he spoke; I was honestly beginning to lose my mind.

“Communication is important…” I somehow managed with a cry, though it felt like my brain was melting every time Satoru hit my spot.

“That’s right. Now, what would you like me to do, baby?” Satoru cooed.

“Please, fuck me d-deep…!” I begged, still trying my best to pull Satoru’s hips closer into mine. I wanted more. More of that sweet friction he was giving me with every deep thrust. The way his dick stretched, pushed, pulled, and prodded the most sensitive parts of me; I wanted to be consumed by him and those sensations he was giving me.

“Like this?” Satoru abruptly picked up his slow pace into a quicker one, ceasing his long thrusts and fucking me instead with shorter, deep thrusts, all perfectly aimed at my a-spot. Instead of pulling out all the way with each pump, he remained deep inside, and the repeated stimulation to the area just beneath my cervix made me want to cry, it felt so fucking good. Satoru sat upright to watch me moan helplessly beneath him as I was completely pleasure-struck. He held the back of my left leg for leverage as he fucked into me, my breasts jumping from the force of each thrust. Satoru grabbed one and squeezed hard, his eyes visibly starting to grow cloudy with lust, “I thought you said I was too big… Now you want me deep?” He released my leg and instead wrapped his hand around my neck, perfectly squeezing the sides of my neck so that his grip was tight, but I could still breathe, “What’s the truth, Lena?” He was so sweet yet cruel at the same time—giving me exactly what I wanted physically yet repeatedly making me say exactly what was on my mind, even when I was too embarrassed or turned on to answer properly.

I cried out pathetically beneath Satoru, clenching tightly around his dick when he choked me, “Please, please don’t s-stop I need this…!” My words were slurred and hardly discernable, I was so drunk with pleasure. I could feel a familiar pressure building up in the pit of my stomach, and knew I was close.

“I know, baby, I know.” Satoru’s eyes looked dark, like he was beginning to lose himself in pleasure just as much as I was. He used his hand that was not around my neck to roughly comb away the white strands of hair from his face, forehead beading with sweat. He then reached down and started to rub my clit with the pads of his fingers as he perfectly fucked into me, over and over, “Why don’t you fucking cum for me?” Clearly worked up with lust as I was, Satoru spat the question between clenched teeth, more like a demand.

Something low in my abdomen twisted with excitement when Satoru spoke to me like that; and I knew that some sick part of me wanted him to be even more cruel to me. Right then, I wanted desperately for him to treat me however he wanted. I groaned messily to the triple attack on my body—Satoru harshly fucking into me, choking me, and gently rubbing my clit all at the same time. My pleasure rapidly increased from the additional sensations he gave me, and my eyes went wide with shock at the extremely intense orgasm that was quickly building up in my body. It was almost scary, “S-Satoru, g-gonna cum… really hard…!” I warned in an uneven voice, my hips involuntarily squirming around to free myself from the pleasure that was too much, and too strong. I even unconsciously clawed my nails at his lower back. But Satoru’s hand around my neck kept me locked square on his dick, that was now driving into me at an even faster pace.

Satoru bent close to me, looking directly into my eyes, “Mm-mnh… Don’t run, baby. You don’t get to run from this. You have to take it, Lena. Now do what I ask and fucking cum.”

I came with a scream at Satoru’s command, feeling tears well up in my eyes at the intense explosion of pleasure that continued in waves as he fucked me through it. My body convulsed harshly with each strong pulse of my pussy, one… two… three… four times; and on the fifth, my hips jerked so hard that I jumped out of Satoru’s grasp and on my side next to him on the bed. I panted heavily, trying to regain my sanity after an orgasm that strong. It was so much, so insanely strong, and so good that I felt the tears finally fall from my eyes.

Satoru followed me to where I’d jumped on side of the bed and chuckled; wiping one of my tears then kissing my cheek, neck, and shoulder, “You’re just a big crybaby, huh?” He said softly, kissing my cheek again, “You okay? That felt like a big one…”

I quickly nodded, wiping the remainder of my tears, “Shit, I’m always fucking crying on our dates, aren’t I?” I sniffled, turning to look up at Satoru after I caught my breath, “Yeah, I’m okay, just had the biggest orgasm of my life—no big deal.” I laughed once.

Satoru smiled, reaching up to stroke my cheek before pressing his lips to mine, “Glad I could be a part of that.” He hummed and closed his eyes, dipping his head down to rest his forehead on mine again. In our current position—with me on my side and Satoru hovering over me—I could feel his condom-covered dick twitch against my ass cheek, “Mind if I finish, baby? I’m really close… Or do you need a break?”

“Oh! No, I don’t mind!” I shook my head and lifted my leg, practically handing it to Satoru as he took it in his grasp and positioned himself at my entrance, “I want you to cum, too.” I said sweetly, grabbing his free hand and interlocking our fingers.

I moaned when Satoru pushed back in, filling me completely in one swift thrust. His forehead remained against mine as he pumped into me over and over, movements growing more and more erratic and unfocused by the second. I heard Satoru’s breathing become ragged and uneven, the sweat from his forehead trickling onto mine as he squeezed my hand. It was satisfying, being able to feel him unravel and lose himself in pleasure as I had, “Fuck… You know you get even tighter after you cum, babe?” Satoru straightened up a bit, enough for him to drive his hips even harder into mine, and enough for me to see his face better. He stroked in and out of me continuously, until I saw his jaw clench considerably, suddenly ceasing with a particularly hard thrust and a loud grunt. Satoru bared his teeth and groaned when he came, tilting his head back for a second, then offering me a few shallow thrusts and looking down at himself buried in my pussy, “Shit, Lena… You’re fucking unreal.” He glanced up into my eyes at the last of his words, then dramatically collapsed onto the bed beside me on his back.

I giggled at Satoru’s dramatics, turning on my other side to face him, “You okay?” I playfully returned his question from earlier.

“Yeah, the best.” Satoru exhaled, wiping his forehead before turning to look at me. He leaned over to peck my lips once… twice, then slowly slid the condom off his dick before slipping off the bed and standing. He tied a knot on the end of the condom and tossed it into the wastebin in the corner of my bedroom. And I appreciated this view of the man walking around naked my room in his full glory, insanely cut and toned all over. The view of his round, muscular butt when he bent over to retrieve and throw away the condom’s foil wrapper was particularly cute. Satoru turned towards me again as I comfortably slipped under my duvet, “You want some water?” He asked.

“Yeah, um, see that white pull-out cabinet under the vanity?” I pointed to it on the opposite side of the bedroom, “There’s a mini fridge in there with glasses and a water dispenser.”

“Well, that’s fucking genius; I was about to go back to the kitchen.” Satoru admitted, instead making a beeline for the mini fridge and filling up a tall glass of water. He returned to the bed and carefully passed me the glass as he slipped under the covers with me.

“Thank you.” I took a number of long sips, nearly drinking half the glass in one go. I passed the glass back to Satoru and he took a short swig before reaching back to rest it on the bedside dresser next to him.

“Of course.”

We gazed at each other for a moment, and I suddenly got up and reoriented myself so that I was straddling Satoru under the covers, a pleased and giddy grin on my face. I rested my hands on Satoru’s chest and felt him gently grasp and knead my hips with his thumbs in response.

“What’s gotten into you?” Satoru cracked a smile, curious to my sudden excitement.

I was just feeling playful. I bent close to Satoru’s ear, “You.” I whispered, “You got into me.” I started with a kiss to his cheek, then kissed down his neck, then to his chest…

“Mm…” Satoru hummed affirmatively, “It was really fun, huh?”

I sat up again and nodded with a smile, next pressing my mouth to Satoru’s in a brief yet passionate kiss. He spoke up again when I broke it.

“You wanna go again?” Satoru challenged with a raised brow.

I flipped my long curls behind my shoulder and tucked a loose strand behind my ear, sure that my hair was a complete mess now, but I was quite unbothered at this point, “Yes.” I nodded, and our lips came together once again—immediately diving into a series of quick, excited, and heated kisses, until Satoru suddenly broke away.

“Shit.” He let go of one of my hips and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“What?” I asked, a little concerned.

Satoru met my gaze once more, “I don’t have any more condoms.”

“Oh.” I bit my lower lip in realization and blinked down at Satoru laying beneath me.

“You on birth control or anything? If so, I could show you my negative test results if you wa—”

“I’m not.” I interrupted. I hadn’t been since I broke up with my ex… Work had picked up so quickly since I’d moved back to Tokyo two years ago, I hadn’t even thought about it. Well, not until now.

“Fuck.”

We simply stared at each other in silence, the unspoken, next natural question on both of our minds hanging heavy in the air: Should we just do it anyways?

[hailtothepumpkinqueen]

Conversations at the Saloon Part 1

(Based on Clint's 3 Heart Event, with a side of Farmer pining after the sad chicken man without realizing. Takes place after this. Part 2 here )

Why she went into the Saloon knowing damn well Shane was going to be there, she had no idea.

Well, that wasn't entirely true. She knew she didn't feel like cooking, not after getting knocked around in the mines all day. She knew the Stardrop Saloon was the only place in town to get a hot meal and a cold drink. And, as far as she knew, Gus didn't make deliveries. Pick up or dine in only.

But, even with all those factors, she didn't know why she would willingly step foot in a place where she had been yelled at barely 24 hours ago. Of course she could steer clear Shane(like he wanted), but it wouldn't stop the swirl of thoughts and feelings the sight of him drug up.

She didn't understand him. One moment they were commiserating, the next he was snapping at her to leave him alone, and the NEXT he was sending her a frozen pizza in the mail because he "wanted to write her a letter". What was he playing at?? Was she being punked? Did she misread the situation? Did he just...not want to associate with her in public? She had no idea, and she wasn't about to ask him after he basically bit her head off for just saying "hi".

Luckily, he was tucked away on one side of the bar and could easily be avoided. Unluckily, someone else was waving her down on the exact same side of the Saloon: Clint. Making direct eye contact and the "come here" motion with his hand in a way that was not at all subtle. She sighed heavily and hoped to Yoba Shane wouldn't notice her as she made her way over. This had better be important...

"Hello, Kat...Care to join me?" As if he hadn't just been doing his best impression of a flight instructor to get her attention. Pulling out a chair for her so quickly it made an awful screeching sound across the wood floor. If she wasn't so tired and hungry, his awkwardness would be kind of endearing.

"If this is about upgrading my tools, I don't have enough ore yet, Clint. I told you that already." Admittedly her tone was a bit snippy, but he was keeping her from grabbing something to eat and getting the fuck out. Sitting in the chair he provided and propping her chin on her hand.

"I know, I know. I..." he sighed and patted at his sweaty forehead with a napkin. "Let me just go ahead and tell you what's on my mind...I have terrible luck with women, Kat."

Oh dear Yoba, where the hell was this conversation going?

"I swear I'm a nice guy when you get to know me!" He continued, leaning forward on the table as if being able to see him closer would convince her of that. Before leaning away and dabbing his forehead again nervously. "You're a girl, Kat..."

"Last I checked, yeah." She replied flatly, half wishing the floor would swallow her up and she didn't have to be here anymore. But apparently the spirits were displeased with her today because in that chair, in this conversation she remained.

"What advice can you give me? What can I do to make Em--uh, girls give me a chance?"

Either he was very oblivious or very desperate, because he didn't seem to notice her eyes bugging out of her head. That was what he called her over for?? For fuck's sake, she hadn't so much as held hands with a man since college, how the hell was she supposed to give advice?

"I don't know, man. Just...act natural. Be yourself. Women aren't a hivemind, dude, I can't tell you how to get the attention of one specific girl." Whisper shouting and waving a hand in exasperation, still trying to avoid detection from one specific man, even though she was sure he knew she was there by now after the noise the chair made.

Sure enough, when she glanced in his direction, he was looking right at her with a curious expression. Their eyes meeting for a second before she looked away, hoping her hair hid her face.

"That's the problem...I do act natural...but I never have any success." Clint huffed, still seemingly oblivious to anything but what was going on in his head. Turning to where she had just been looking, but only because Emily was now walking their way.

She watched Clint stumble through making a food order, completely fumble a possible attempt to ask Emily out before she went to hand Shane a beer. She watched how easily the pair of them chatted, how Shane's face lit up in a smile like it was the simplest thing in the world. Feeling a twinge of...something in her chest. Something painful.

It shouldn't hurt, seeing him getting along with someone else. She'd seen how sweet he could be with Jas, with the chickens he loved so much. Seen him smile at them the same way he was smiling at Emily. Why did it bother her so much that he didn't smile like that at her, too? That she only got a hint of it before he put the walls up again?

Maybe she shouldn't be surprised he'd talk so easily with Emily. She was beautiful and bright and confident and seemed to ooze charisma like it was her purpose on earth to get along with everyone. Nothing like herself. No wonder Shane probably didn't want to be seen with her in public.

"I'm doomed..." Clint sighed next to her, watching Emily and Shane chat, as well. Almost certainly looking as crestfallen as she felt. What a pair they made.

"Yeah...me, too..."

[keyks-art-zone]

Another Pizza Tower OC

Gale the Changeling - A previous resident of the Gnome Forest who roams the nearby woods after the tower's fall (until she learns you need money to get things and they can't really sneak around a city). She can shapeshift into different creatures and people, but not shapes and sucks at acting. To earn money, she gets a job as the delivery gal for Peppino's Pizza. Fake Peppino/Bruno becomes her closest friend (after some beef like with Brick and Gustavo).