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[floristusa]

Popular Father’s Day Gifts Online

Father’s day is celebrated annually on the 3rd sunday of June month. This celebration began as an honorary tradition to father’s who were a part of the civil war, away from their families for peace and security. Now with the civil war all set in history we are still celebrating father’s day, why you may ask. Well the appreciation and love that fathers should get is still missing. Father’s day is a reminder that fathers too need attention, care and lots of love.

[vifilms]

THE SUNSHINE ON MY SHOULDERS STICKING LIKE HONEY

feat. contractor!abby x exgf!reader

content warning. eighteen+, smut, angst, some fluff sprinkled in, devastating dykes, nickname for reader (cherry), jealousy, long lost love trope, hazel (spoiler alert, she’s a cunt), just an emotional ass fic.

THE SUNSHINE ON MY SHOULDERS STICKING LIKE HONEY, she was the healing in a world that struck so much pain, a life you would like to forget, but can you truly forget just how much you loved her?

rayray sesh. been working on this baby for over a month and i’m very happy to post it on time! happy birthday, pookie — @sinstear �� this is my special crafted gift i wrote just for you on a day to celebrate just how amazing you are. erenboo, you deserve all the love in the world. i hope you enjoy this as much as i took joy in writing it for you. my love, sweat, tears, and cum are laced in it. special delivery. i love you so much, bub. always and forever.

✶ special shoutout to @hypnagogics aka my co-yap captain. thank you for proofreading my bigger projects. you are a godsend. my nonsensical typos would surely make it if it wasn’t for you. mwahmwah! you’re the sweetest, ily ♡

✶ header heavily inspired by the lovely @hcneymooners

word count, 14k.

❝ ⋮ ⌗ ┆𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞: 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝 ❞

The more you try to hide from it, the harder it’ll be when you face it — at least those are the words Abby had heard from her old man for as long as she could remember. Suddenly, nearly thirty-years later, they reverberated in her mind like a ring of a bell. A vibrating reminder of how her life remained the same, your love having limitations, requirements she never could have been aware of at the ripe age of eighteen. 

All she needed was more time, more understanding, and a patient heart that was never reciprocated. On a day like today, she’s reminded of 

In Jacksonville, there wasn’t much going on, and talk travels faster than the speed of lightning. Murmurs of your return started the moment Dina found out, then it spread like wildfire. All of it feels just like yesterday but the spring of her youth is a far cry away, just dust and bones to be found on the ashes of adolescence.  

If the world was perfect, Abby could avoid all of this. 

Maybe if her life had turned out the way she envisioned. 

But it didn’t and neither did yours. Not as of late. Although Abby had to be tightlipped about it, business and pleasure entangled, all of that nonsense floating around her pretty head. A voice she once thought she had forgotten comes back with a violent need to be recognized, a calming notion before it punches her in the gut. 

Not to mention, she just had to be on your father’s payroll, had to face the person she was never good enough for. All of it feels nauseating. Excruciating. 

Reminder of a wound she’s never recovered from. Memories high and low come flooding, and with you in her line of vision, it only gets worse. 

Way fucking worse. 

“What is she doing back?” 

“As if anyone would want her here.” 

“Abby, was she even supposed to be here?” 

The questions pile along with the bile collecting in the back of Abby’s throat. The pit in her stomach manifests a black hole, feeling herself succumb to the spin of everyone’s empty threats spilling from her friends to you. Abby can tell just by the way you’re downing the glass of champagne and picking up the next, coming here wasn’t your choice.

If you could have helped it, you would have never come back in such a public setting.  

“Abby, are you listening?” She sighs, but still unable to take her eyes off you. 

“Do I need to rea—” 

“Yeah yeah, all of you hate them. I get it.” 

“It’s not that simple. They aren’t good for you.”

There’d been murmurs through the small town of your return. That’s what happens when your mom gets sick, you come home and that you did. The anniversary of your parents, forty years strong, is the first public appearance. The absence of your brother’s appearance isn’t talked about, it’s brushed over, just like everything else, just like you. 

“Yep, I got it.” 

“I’m just looking out for you. They don’t appreciate you and—” Abby shoots her a knowing glare, annoyed with the intrusion of everyone thinking they knew best instead of herself. 

“Yeah, like I said, I hear you, but you don’t fucking know her. Neither do I, certainly not anymore.” 

Running a hand through her blonde-glistening locks, the sunset saturates her golden as she ignores Hazel, taking a sip of her beer as she takes you in. Everyone always has shit to say about you. Your parents, her friends, Abby’s parents, but no one really knows you. 

It’s not easy for you to let people in, you seem as harsh as can be to others, but Abby knows you’re quite the opposite. 

Different from everyone in the room, a polished cream suit and open collared button up shirt with your delectable collarbones exposed, your rings twinkle as you pet the husky, one you don't know belongs to Abby. If you did, your hand might feel repelled. 

It’s what you always wanted. A life out of here, out of the small town where you’ve always felt judged, persecuted, even ostracized when you came out — and you succeeded — leaving Abby behind in the process. Even if you didn’t intend to, it sort of just…happens. We leave the ones we love behind, even if it’s our last possible intention. 

Goodbye notions simmer and we forget about the love we once had. 

“Hazel, Dina was asking for you, she mentioned needing some help finding JJ’s pacifier?” 

“On it!” Abby chuckles as the cherry-haired girl flees into the other direction as Ellie laughs harder when she’s gone. 

“You’re welcome. She's like a dog with a bone when it comes to your beautiful ex-girlfriend.” 

“Watch it. Calling another woman beautiful, Dina might just skin you alive.” 

“Nope. She loves me too much.” 

Ellie chuckles as they watch you down another glass of champagne. Freeing your hair from the tight bun, your hair springs to life as it falls around your shoulders, framing your jawline as piercing eyes find the weeds poking through the freshly cut grass. 

A few people had offered up a sloppy introduction, a grievance of pity, before returning to their groups. Anxiously, you tear at the loose thread on the cuff of your sleeve. It gets longer and longer, avoiding everyone watching you. 

Pretending you don’t exist. You never do. Not in this wretched town where all dreams get sucked into a bottomless pit, where believers go to die. 

Abby nods, the feeling builds in the pit of her stomach as she yearns to get closer to you. Even after all the hurtful insults thrown her way years back, she’s conflicted. A missile is thrown into her life with your arrival and all of her friends, besides Ellie, tell her not to fall back into old patterns. Not to fall for your charm, not to be a victim to reckless love. 

The kind that left her empty for years. Abby knew the moment she fell, from the very first time they met, if you ever left her she’d never be the same again. You don't forget a love like this. It tears a hole within you before you even get a chance to think about it, their presence consuming your entirety, an empty promise of endless salvation dies on the tip of your tongue. 

Impossible shoes to ever be filled. 

Truly, Abby thought she had been in love before you, but she wasn’t. The feeling she’s been chasing for the rest of her life returns when she looks at you. Those bright eyes when you play with the pup, the gentle hand as your scrap his chin with the crescent of your blunt nails. 

She feels more looking at you for one moment than anyone she’s dated after you. 

It’s sickening. 

Still, her friends ridicule her any chance they get. Telling her of what you’re like, how you hurt her, what you’ll do when your claws sink into Abby. It falls on a hyper fixated heart. She can’t think of anything when all the blood comes rushing to her head, how beautiful you look when she sees you anxiously biting your bottom lip, something you do when you’re attempting to stop the tears from spilling. 

None of them knew what it meant to look in your eyes and wonder how someone so good couldn’t recognize the purity in your eyes, the love you give out when the world feels like it’s crumbling around you. They didn’t see the years of torture, the family that wasn’t so perfect, the anger you held wound so tight. You didn’t have anywhere to put it. Never could. Not when the image of the perfect daughter is meant to be upheld. 

Not a soul knows the information Abby does. There’s nothing more you love than to hide in the shadows, hoping to be forgotten, how you nearly crave to be eaten alive if it means an end to your misery. It isn’t lost on her how much she wants to shield you from it all. 

“Why don’t you go and talk to her?” 

Ellie points the glass of wine she’s been nursing to you, watching as you excuse yourself into the empty guest house. Your body is still viewable through the tall glass windows, your body disappearing from the common area of the small home. The exact one she’s been renovating per your mother’s request. 

“She’ll just—” Absentmindedly, Abby kicks the dirt with the toe of her boot, rooting her heel in the ground as she bites the wall of her gums, trying to center herself. Attempting to not let her mind wander into what if’s, what could have been. 

“What? Figure out you’re scared?” 

“I’m not scared.” Sighing into the palm of her hands as she can’t help but bite into Ellie’s comment, “It’s been years. For all I know, Cherry hates my guts. Not that it fucking matters, but I’m the last person they want to talk to. Plus, when she’s upset the last thing they want is to talk.”  

“You’ll do just fine, can’t be too bad. They were always sweet on you.” 

“It’s been years, Hazel’s right, in some sense I—” 

“Please, even you know the only thing she wants is to get in your pants. That part is lost on me, you’re too beefy for my taste.”

“Some people like that, dick.” 

“Your girlfriend sure did.” 

“Ex-girlfriend.” 

The rest of the night Abby avoids all of her friends, especially the meddling junkie, Hazel; fucking hazel. She wouldn’t let her rest. They never had done more than share a friendly hug and for some reason she always looked at Abby like she hung all the stars spreading across the galaxy. 

“Are you going to let Hazel think she has a chance forever?” 

Abby just shakes her head in omission. 

“There’s no chance, I’m not—” 

“Abby! I got you a glass of lemonade. Sweet with just a few cubes of ice, just the way you like it!” Ellie wiggles her eyebrows at Abby as if she has proved her point. 

As soon as Hazel turns around, Ellie goes right back to the pitch of her ex-girlfriend, trying to sell Abby on the past. The only woman Dina and her had liked in her mess of a dating scene. A long line of hookups, one serious relationship that ended so horrifically the cops had to be called, and then there was Hazel. A naive girl who had been harboring a crush for nearly a year, the time Dina had adopted her into their little makeshift family. 

You walk out of the guest house more comfortably. A pair of dark denim and a black graphic tee with the sleeves cut off. Abby smiles at how much you look like the woman she fell in love with, the youthful ache she still feels with every beat of her heart. The one you crushed in the palm of her hands without thinking twice. 

Abby’s throat constricts when you catch her staring, quickly looking away, biting at your fingernails before your father introduces you to the new neighbors. 

“What’s so important, Hazel?” Ellie bites. 

Hazel ignores her. All she can see is Abby looking right at you. 

Abby had realized she completely zoned out, her energy and focus harbored on you. Five minutes within your arrival and her head was already feeling the rapid hum of her heartbeat caught in the bottom of her throat as you looked at her again, just for a second longer before you turned the other direction, away from her gaze. 

“Abby—” 

Abby hums absentmindedly with you on her mind, infecting her thoughts like a former addict getting their first fix for years. The high. It feels even better than her mind could remember. The curious gaze in bright eyes feels intoxicating, too good to be true, and the fall feels higher than it ever was to begin with. 

“Yeah?” 

“She’s coming over here.” 

It only takes a few minutes before Abby takes a swig at her beer, wipes the sweat collecting on the palm of her hands. When you get closer, she notices the engraving of A.A. engraved on a glimmering silver ring. 

Did you keep it after all this time? 

“Tell her to leave—” 

“Hazel, for the love of god, would you shut your mouth?” Ellie barks as you make your way over to Abby. 

Abby tries to make her resolve hard, icy even, but it’s not. Her electrified blue eyes are warm, full of curiosity and wonder, her freckled cheeks are flushed from the heat of the sun and her barely there grin has you offering one of your own. 

“Abigail, hey.” 

Abby is surprised you hug her and she doesn't want to accept but it feels too rude not to. But the second her arms envelop around your body you fit perfectly into her. Just like all those years ago, you’re everything she loves. Like no time has passed, as if you didn’t rip her heart and stump out the love it once held. 

“It’s just Abby now.” Hazel interjects. 

“Sorry, I didn’t know, Abby, right.” 

“How could you? You’d have to be around—” 

Ellie gently elbows Hazel in the stomach, trying to silence her best efforts to scare you away from the treasury stock of a blonde she believes to be hers. 

“Abby, sorry. I’m just—” 

“You’ve always called me, Abigail. It’s alright. Promise.”

There she is. 

The charm that makes you fall when you don’t need to. It’s laughable that Abigail can make years of therapy, years of dating other people to get over her seem like a dream, as if it’d only just been the two of you all of this time. Like nothing had changed. 

But everything has. 

“Um, do you mind if we talk in private?” 

Abigail follows your lead into the empty house, the party rages outside as the two of you sit in the living room, neither of you knowing what way to take your best foot forward. 

“Sorry if I made things awkward with you and your girlfriend—” 

“Oh, uh, she’s not….we’re not dating or anything.” 

Shit. 

You wish she was. 

Abby doesn’t know what to think when the expression on your face wasn’t instant relief but instead turmoil within yourself. Your eyebrows furrowed as if you expected her to be in a relationship. It would leave you to escape from the overflow of feelings you had rushing through your core. 

“You look shocked.” 

“I just—” You bite your lip, looking anywhere but her, trying to put your best foot forward, like your father says, he’s the whole reason this conversation is even happening. “I can’t lie, it would have made this…easier? I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.” 

“What are you trying to do?” Abby has a bubbly laugh threatening to burst but she swallows it for the sake of your dignity. 

“Okay, well that’s not nice.” 

“Do you want me to be?” 

“Well, my dad he just thought that—” 

“Wait, you’re talking to me because of your dad?” Abby stands up from the couch, rubbing her hands over her flushed face. “Not even because it’s been years, but because — well, why?” 

“He was just encouraging me. I’m nervous, isn’t that fucking obvious? I can’t even look at you without feeling like I’m eighteen again.” 

She’s standing at her tall height, looking down at you as you begin to cry. 

Well shit. 

“Hey, hey—” Abby sinks to the floor on her knees, her body between your legs. “C’mon, there’s no need for all of that.” 

“I hate that you haven’t changed.” 

“Did you want me to?” 

No, you say just to yourself. Not trusting the waver of your voice to give her the truth. There’s always so much on the line with her. Everything feels heavy, final, an anchor to hold you down but also drag everything you are, tangled with her sweet, honey-filled baby blues. 

“Can’t you be mean to me or something? Even the playing field a little bit.” 

“Not even a little, sweetheart. We both know I never could.” Her fingertips trace your forearm, a shiver courses throughout your body, “I will admit, everyone says I should.” 

“They’re right. I deserve it.” 

“If we all got what we deserved, well, that would be such an ugly world, wouldn’t it? Just because you did something hurtful doesn’t make you cruel. It makes you human.” 

“But I do deserve the cruelty.” 

“Fine, I hate you.” Abby says with a smirk on her face, wiping away a stray tear, looking too fondly on the woman who broke her heart. She’s too kind for her own good. 

The giggle Abby omits rivals sunshine. 

“I just didn’t want it to affect the work on the house, everything between us, it’s complicated and I’ll be in the guest house while my mom’s—” 

“I know, you don’t have to say it. Your dad may have mentioned it to me. I’m sorry, I truly am.” 

“I am too. For everything. I shouldn’t have left the way I did. I was so young, scared, and I wanted you to hate me. It just seemed easier than having you actually miss me.” 

“I did miss you.” Abby's warm palm might as well be burning your denim jeans through as she touches your thigh. “You could have done the worst thing imaginable and I still would have. I’ve never had, uh, reason with you I guess. Love doesn’t know scorn, like a child with a knife, even if you can get hurt — sometimes it’s worth it.” 

The stars in her blue eyes hold the same light in them, too full of love, her older and refined spirit lays beneath them and she has become someone you have even more love for. It’s too damning. Abigail Anderson has always been more than you can handle, always outshining everyone in this small town even if she couldn’t see it for herself. 

“I’m surprised you came back for them, you know, after everything.” 

It’s not just them. 

“They say she doesn’t have a lot of time, so—” You sigh heavily into your palms, “And that’s not your problem, but thank you for being so cool about everything. Maybe we can be friends?” 

“Yeah, maybe.” Abby knows neither of you can’t. It’s never worked out that way. It’s all or nothing and she’s always been the all-in type of girl. She loves big, not caring if her own heart gets trampled in the process. 

Her love blinds like the sun, but it settles over your heart like the moonlight kissing the waves — you just hope the tide is strong enough to bring you home.

❝ ⋮ ⌗ ┆𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨: 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐧, 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 ❞

The first few weeks back at home felt like a breath of fresh air. As much as you disdained being home, the cracks of your family nearly breaking you in the process, you had her. 

Even if you didn’t really have her. 

The definite silence was not so, Abby still soaked in her warm heart, the one you hoped she kept. The best part of her. She’s too kind, even when you don’t deserve it, she still freely gives it. 

It bleeds into her work. 

Clearly, your father was more than fond of her. Several occasions they would be chumming it up, your father even grilling a few patty hamburgers up for them both when the clock struck noon. They always did love her, possibly even more than you, but to say they were devastated about the break would be a tragic understatement. 

Get her back. 

She’s a prize in this town. 

Abigail Anderson is the best you can do, you’re not doing better than Dr. Anderson’s daughter. 

But you never did try. You trusted the universe as a sign given. The people driving you out of this town sided with the woman you had broken up with, so you left and didn’t look back twice. 

Yet, she did, in more ways than you were even aware of. 

Because of her stupidly built physique, you couldn’t stop looking. 

Anchored into the heat, her muscles constrict as she helps the crew demo the tile of the master suite, the last touch of the renovation needs. Besides the final paint job in the guest house, Abby had finished it all. In all honesty, Abby was hoping all of it would be complete by the time you arrived back in town. Being around you on a daily basis, her friends telling her it’s only a matter of time before she’s back in your arms, it feels like a slap in the face. 

As if she has no self restraint. 

To be fair, she doesn’t. 

Abby’s gone to lunch with you three times, had coffee with you once, and she exhibits her obsessive memory — still having your order memorized — even if it's the most pathetic thing you’ve ever heard of. She still finds herself stuck between your teeth like cotton candy. 

It’s all friendly, supposedly, but it’s the easiest thing to slip back. 

Old habits do die hard. 

Right now, you’re just watching her work. 

You’ve been doing it a lot lately. 

Out of habit, nervousness, maybe it’s the anxiety flooding through your bloodstream. All of this feels erasable. Too much thrown at you, with her, it always happens to be too irreplaceable. 

The ghost you’ve been running from, the one that hides in the shadow, even if you’ve tried to stay on the path you’ve created. Dug from the ashes of all your failures, she’s the one thing you haven’t made right. The nights where you got too drunk, nearly texting her or calling her, the picture you still curated in a specific folder, the one you would look for when you’re the weakest. 

Being back in your hometown, the first person who ever truly loved you, it feels suffocating. 

It doesn’t help that she looks so good. Or that she’s even kinder. The love in her eyes is even more whole-hearted than they were ten years ago. Part of you tells yourself you couldn’t even help yourself if you tried. This is just how it’s supposed to be. The heartbreaker pining for the woman’s heart you shattered into pieces. 

All it took, a few cups of coffee and Abby taking you to lunch and paying — it feels awfully like a date but you keep your mouth shut. Her being present in your life is already confusing enough; the added weight would just be unbearable. 

But after today, you won’t see her again. Painting the final room in the guest house is the last duty she has to fulfill and the renovation is done on your parent’s property. The ache in the pit of your stomach is unsettling as you attempt to simmer through and wonder why the pain becomes so deep. As if the woman in front of you was scorning you alive. 

“You need something or are you gonna stare at me all day?” 

You watch Abby throw the paint roller back in the tray, running the brush in the sage green, before turning the attention back to the wall, waiting for you to respond. 

“No, I wasn’t staring.” Abby chuckles at that. 

Chuckles. 

“Yeah, sure.” 

If you could see her pouty lips, you’re sure that they’d be pulled into a smirk. Lately, she’s been enjoying this too much. Catching you staring at her for too long, biting the precious bottom lip of yours as she’s putting her muscles to work or when you caught her peeling the sweaty tank of her body for a new one, every inch of her skin glowing in the wake of the blistering sun. 

Her abdomen, toned with a not so subtle four pack, her v-line defined as it disappears into her jeans. It’s sickening. Really. It is. She catches your self control slipping through the cracks, dignity along with it as you give in to her adonis-like physique. 

The shock going through your body, going completely still as Abby just chuckles, winking at you before she goes about her day. Like it was nothing, like this is a normal occurrence for her. You’re not sure what thought made you feel even more sick. 

Women fawning over her or what happened after. 

But you didn’t have a right, you know you didn’t. 

You swallowed the unflattering buzz of sweeping jealousy until you couldn’t feel in anymore. It’s not an emotion you even deserve to feel. While the two of you had been getting closer the longer you spent with each other, you knew your boundaries well enough to know you still weren’t there, you never would be. 

The ghosts from your past made damn sure of it. 

“I can pose for you if you’re going to keep looking.” 

“I wasn’t—” 

Abby wipes the mixture of sweat, oils, and paint on the pair of old blue-denim. She lets her blonde hair out of the bun she wore, despite the icy temperature, her body runs warm. 

“It’s okay to admit it.” 

“Admit what?” Suddenly you become defensive, arms crossing over your chest. 

“That you’re still attracted to me.” Abby takes your curves in and nearly blows a low whistle, “You’re awful at hiding it.” 

“I-I’m not, this isn’t….you’re not, like, easy to look at, you know? Uh, ummm….” 

Standing there like an idiot as you struggle to get the words out, nearly impossible to get them released, your mouth staggering, unable to even keep them shut as Abby stalks you, your body pressed against the kitchen counter, the new one she installed days ago. 

Nothing comes out on the way you intend it to. Fuck. Did you offend her? 

“I’m not?” 

She whispers into your ear, her lips ghosting your skin. A free hand plays with the buckle of your belt before she pulls you closer by the fastened leather. It’s soft to the touch, making her want to sink her teeth into you, until her canines break the surface of your skin, claiming you as hers once again. 

Abby thinks about removing it off you, bending you over the counter and punishing you for it or even fastening the belt around your neck, pulling you along until you’re right where she pleases. The craving in the pit of her belly only stirs into an unmanageable peace the longer you stand there — squirming with satisfaction — waiting to be put out of your misery. 

Golden locks tickle your jaw, the static energy radiating off of her shocks your skin, goosebumps come alive on every inch of you as she makes her presence known. One fact you haven’t been able to shake, Abby Anderson is a force to be reckoned with. Ten years, ten full years, and your life means nothing now that she’s right in front of you. 

“Abigail, I don’t really think this is a good idea.” Abby waits for you to push her away, but instead you place your hands around her forearms but she’s so big, and it’s intoxicating that she stands taller than you. Her biceps the size of your head, veins protruding as she flexes, as if it didn’t make matters worse. 

“Then why don’t you just admit it?” Abby presses her pelvis even closer to yours and you wonder if you’re hallucinating the barely-there kiss to below your ear. “You want me just as much as you did back then. Ten years apart won’t change that. You still care about me, even though you wish you didn’t, you do.” 

“Abigail, we can’t go there, we both are—” 

“What? I’ve always been a patient girl. I can wait.” Loudly, you groan as she peppers kisses down your neck, before scratching at her skin, when she kisses the one spot behind your ear she certainly didn’t forget about. 

Abby digs her teeth in as you hiss, she enjoys the thrill of your soft whimpers, she’s barely started and you’re giving her just what she needs. The two of you know it, there isn’t a fix for this, the thread of a craving pulls until it’s fed. 

“Oh–” 

Rough hands hoist you on the counter top as she slots herself between your thighs, her frame protecting you as if you were a wild animal trying to be saved from extinction. The greed in Abby’s palm finds salvation when she touches exposed skin, silk to the touch — it doesn’t feel quite as sinful as she’s been told. 

She should hate you, right? 

You hurt her, didn’t look back twice, and you’ve never been the same. 

All of this is just a facade. The life you have, the future you always dreamed of building is thousands of miles from here and she just doesn’t fit within it anymore, everyone tells her she never did. A missing puzzle piece with a jagged edge, the more Abby tries to fit with your world, the further she pushes away. 

But she held onto the hope that your world no longer fit you and maybe — like a fool who believes in their first dream — she could be your world again. 

Sparkling, honey-blues dazzle their way into your heart once again, reminding you of everything you love, striking a reminder through your soul of just what you had hurt. The life you stole, the one you wanted to so desperately have but fear still swarms you. The memory doesn’t feel so distant, the past isn’t the past but lies as a reminder of the blood still staining your hands. 

With hesitance, you hold her full-freckled cheeks in your palms with a delicate hand, fearful any touch from you would burn her in the process. 

“Do you think this is a good idea?” You bite into the isolating air, threatening to swarm your soul but she finds you first. Abby’s warm breath feeds into the need blossoming like a seed rooted in soil, solidifying the growth of budding salvation. 

“I don’t know. Do you?” 

She’s so sweet on you, even as the trickle of poison burns her, Abby would gladly let it absorb every inch of her skin if it meant this. The wondrous arrival of a love once lost, her heart torn right down the middle. Unsure if giving into reason or a festered dream. 

It all grabs a hold of her the same, unwillingly to release her from the pure agony she feels when you’re not around. More dramatic than she intended it to be, the dagger once pushed through her heart, exerting every drop of blood until she felt unsatisfied iron saturating her tongue. 

She would even show gratitude if you let her. 

“Everything I think I know changes when you’re involved, so no, I don’t.” 

Leaning into your touch, Abby swears into the palm of your hand, her hands smooth over the fabric of your pants and your entire skin leaves a trail of fire anywhere her large, calloused hand scorns you. The weight of her love feels heavy, as it always has, but the temptation to carry every ounce of it is heavier than it’s been in years. 

With a terror in your chest, you blurt out the first thought entering you mind.  “You’ve aged really well, can barely tell you’re hitting thirty.” 

“Oh yeah? I can think of a few ways to show you.” 

Shit. 

A rapid heartbeat ready to burst, you’re not sure if it’s you or her. She’s inching closer, lips ghosting yours, her minty-ice breath makes home over yours. With a slight graze, you inhale a sharp breath, read for her to lean into you. 

Slam! 

“Am I interrupting something?” Immediately, you push Abby off of you, a judging pair of eyes scanning the two of you. 

The woman from the party looked like she could actually kill you with her bare hands. Then there’s Ellie sitting there grinning like the joker, one giggle away from sounding like the maniac himself. As if she was fully aware this would happen. The two of you are running off of pure animal instinct, unable to keep your hands off one another. 

“Abby? What’s going on?” The snip in the woman’s voice is evident, so is the possession she so clearly feels over your ex-girlfriend. The jealousy you feel over the thought sends an unwanted shiver up your spine. 

Then she’s looking at you, expecting you to disintegrate into nothing right in front of her. Like you had done something terribly wrong. 

Didn’t Abby say she’s single? 

“Chill out, Hazel.” Ellie rolls her eyes, smirking at the steam practically boiling out of Hazel’s ears. “Ready for that drink? Dina and Jesse are already waiting.” 

“Uh—” She looks back at you, avoiding eye contact with everyone. “Yeah, can you just give me a sec?” 

“But I really think we should—” 

“Down Hazel, god, you’re worse than a dog. They clearly were about to suck each other’s faces off. Move it.” 

Hazel clearly looks offended as she desperately looks at Abby, hoping for her to save a little bit of dignity but Abby just punches the bridge of her nose as Ellie escorts out an extremely frigid Hazel. 

Abby doesn’t miss the way the woman who has far too big of a crush on her tries to shoot daggers into you but you’re too busy focused on plucking your overgrown cuticles. 

As soon as the door shuts you bend over the counter, forehead pressed into the white marble of the island, settling for a frustrated groan even when you want to scream. 

“That bad, huh?” Abby stands behind you, watching as you lose it in front of her. 

“Your friends already hate me, was that really fucking needed?” 

There’s an itching, envious need to ask why Hazel seems to be protective over Abby, borderlining on obsession, but you keep your mouth tight lipped. Even if it’s the first thing ready to roll off your tongue. 

“They’re fine, Hazel is just—” 

“Protective.” You avoid her as she smirks, clearly enjoying the clear look of jealousy in your beautifully bright eyes. 

“Oh?” Abby is grinning, pearly whites shining as majestic as the moon. “I didn’t think you’d even feel like that about me.” 

As if it's instinct, she can’t stop how much she’s loving this. One moment of her lips on your skin and suddenly you want her all to yourself. Your head is spinning and her stupid, blue eyes won’t stop looking at you like a divine treasure. 

“I-I don’t know what to say.” 

You never did well with things out of your control, never really could. It’s why all of it ended the way it did. If you couldn’t somehow manipulate into what you wanted, it faded until you couldn’t hear it any longer. Abby faded into the noise, into your past, but maybe she is the noise and for the first time in ten years you can finally hear. 

“You don’t have to say anything but you can come with me.” 

“With your friends?” Abby nods. 

“All of your friends hate me and one looks like she might actually kill me. Why on earth would you think that’s a good idea?” 

“All of them are adults. They’ll handle just fine besides,  I want you there.” As soon as Abby says those words, your harsh seamer softens, rejection melts and dissipates from your vocabulary. She’s always been a difficult person to say no to. “You could use some social interaction, you don’t even leave this guest house.” 

“How did you know that?” 

“I have eyes?” Abby states it as more of a question, a giggle threatening to bubble out. 

“Oh god.” Abby laughs as she takes off her tool belt before finding her jacket and slipping it on her body. Grabbing her keys on the counter, looping the carabiner on the loop of her weathered denim. 

“Ready?”  

There’s a look of uncertainty in your eyes, nearly bleeding into an unwillingness to bend, but her words reassure you before you even get a chance to explain. As if she settled in your heart ten years ago and never left. 

“Don’t worry, okay? If anyone’s mean to you, I’ll set them straight, Cherry.” 

The nickname falls off her tongue, the sentiment hits you like a tsunami of emotion, bringing you back to every loving emotion she exposed to you for the first time. 

It shouldn’t cut you this deep but it will — she always will. 

❝ ⋮ ⌗ ┆𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞: 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐞 ❞

March 26th, 2013 

“C’mon dance with me!” Abby screams over the loud music of the party. Fluorescent lights, a disco ball and tequila raged through her body, the alcohol pumping through her veins as she finally mustered the liquid courage to talk with the girl she’s been crushing on all sophomore year. 

Her friends had been teasing her all night about it, but when the girl looked at her in disgust, shoulder checking her into oblivion, she couldn't help but take it to heart. Her blue eyes swell with tears, a waterfall raging within her as she makes her way to the bathroom, puking out her dinner at her father’s house. 

So much for prom night, right? 

Making a beeline for the bathroom, with yet another rejection to check off the list, stupid fucking after party she lied to her dad about going to. It’s all so stupid, of course Lacey wouldn’t be into someone like her. No one likes her, no one ever will, she’s just the lame screw up in this town who can’t like boys, not when the rest of the girls in the wretched town do. 

Even if her dad tells her, it’s what makes her special — it’s a bunch of horse shit. 

So, in the home of the girl she confessed her undying love for, she pukes her guts out in the bathroom until there’s a knock at the door and a soft yet concerned shout that follows. “Hey, are you okay? Sounds a little rough in there!” 

“Shit,  yeah, just one second…” Abby collects herself taking off her jacket as she rolls up the sleeves, residue of what she chucked up on the cuff of her shirt. Quickly, she rinses off and roles the sleeves up. 

Well, it didn’t get any more embarrassing than this. 

“Are you sure you’re alright? I can get someone it’s really not a pro—” 

Without a further beat, the door is swung open. Abby suspects to see someone she knows, but she doesn’t. It’s a fresh face and she’s never been more grateful. The eyeliner she thought Lacey would like was probably smudged all over her face, Abby had no doubt she probably resembled someone operating an oil rig of some kind. 

Just as Abby tries to talk, she feels another round come up and she runs to the toilet, sinking to her knees as more bile comes out. Way to go Anderson, you’ve managed to utterly humiliate yourself in front of two beautiful women tonight. Truly, there should be some type of an award for being the dumbest idiot on the planet. 

Somehow, she knows all of this will come back to bite her in the ass. There’s no way that she isn't the complete laughing stock of the high school until she walks across the stage in two years with a diploma on hand. Whoever you are, you’re sure you’ll tell the entire town. 

A stupid pathetic lesbian who can’t have one good night to save her life. 

One of the most important nights of her life. 

But she doesn’t hear a mockery laugh, a snide comment…she isn't even met with pure disgust. The third and fatal option. There’s a comforting hand on her back, reassuring her everything will be just fine, the other holding her hair into  a makeshift ponytail, ensuring there isn't a single strand getting tied into the mess of her sickness. 

By the time Abby’s done, she feels even more humiliated, her body running hot, cheeks aflame but you’re already running warm water underneath the towel folded on the shelf above the toilet. Kneeling down again, you angle her by the jaw, wiping the residue off her lips and you carefully wash away the black eyeliner smeared all over her freckled-cheeks. 

For a second, Abby notices you staring at her pouty lips but she doesn’t say a word about it. 

Turned out so wonderful the first time…

“Here!” You pull from your pocket, a pack of red labeled gun, cherry flavored, and pull out one piece wrapped in paper-tin foil. “For your, you know, breath.” 

“Is this your nice way of telling me I have bad breath?” Abby teases, one moment with a pretty stranger, and she already felt more like herself. Abby takes a piece of gum, unraveling the piece before shoving the strip into her mouth. 

“Well, you did puke.” 

Regretfully she chews as the taste turns sweet instead of mint, her face contorts in rejection but still she chews. It’s not exactly what she had in mind. 

“You don’t like Cherry flavored? That’s just bad taste!” You grab a piece of gum for yourself, throwing the piece of paper in the trash, consuming it wholeheartedly, almost moaning as you put on a show. 

“Whatever you say, Cherry.” The sun might as well be shining on you from just how warm you feel. Heat rising in your heart, blossoming through your chest, thriving from the attention of the sun, 

“Hey! That’s not fair. I don’t know your name.” 

“Well, I don’t know yours either…” Abby hints, tilting her head to the side with a smirk the size of Texas. For once, she finds this easy, talking to a pretty girl, flirting with a pretty girl — proving it didn’t always have to be so hard to have something this good. 

“Call me Cherry, it’s better than my real one, trust me.” You smile sweetly, fully willing to rot each tooth if it means you could feel like this. “What’s yours?” 

“Abigail.” 

The two of you just stare at each other like idiots, two losers, two outcasts and all of it started to make sense. Every heartache dealt out by careless handlers of the heart, each person who made you feel small, unworthy, who knew all of it could be healed by looking into the brightest pair of blue eyes, the warmest, full of honey and marvelous wonder. 

It feels wonderful, being this close to a feeling, a lover's dream in the sunshine of spring, kissing shoulders never exposed to the brightful joy, freckles sprouting like bees flees to honey. One more kiss of sunshine until the sweetness falls on your tongue, guiding you to the spirit of love and everything you ever lost. 

One person, one perfect person who makes your youth scream of joy again. Jumping off a cliff, plummeting into the cool ocean without second thought, hoping they’ll be there to jump off it with you. Even if it takes a lifetime of waiting — you’d wait your entire life for her. 

As long as she’s in the sun, freckles being painted by pure light, you’d soak in the sun right along with her. 

“Thank you.” She squeaks out the words so small, you nearly miss it. 

“There’s no need for thanking. Just doing the right thing s’all.” Your smile is so sweet, Abby nearly feels every part of her body rotting with sugar. “Do you wanna talk about it?” 

“There was just this girl and I really thought she liked me but she really didn’t and I have this thing where I get a lot of anxiety or nervous I kind of just puke. It’s totally lame, god, I can’t wait to get out of this place.” 

“Me too. High school sucks.” You agree with her, offering a small smile as you finish cleaning her up. “But she’s totally lame for not seeing how great you are.” 

Abby tries not to blush, but she can’t hit the crimson swell painting the apples of her cheeks and the tips of her ears. “Did you try to kiss her or something?” 

“I didn’t really get that far, she wouldn’t even dance with me. Not here, not prom, guess I’m not cool enough for her.” Pushing the metal frame of her glasses up her nose, trying to stop herself from biting into her blunt nails, nearly drawing blood. Now that she’s come down from her puking fest, she sees how beautiful you are. The kind of beauty that would bring her to her knees if Abby wasn’t already there. 

“Cool is overrated. Who cares about being cool? We’re all losers trying to figure it out.” You say it as if it’s the most obvious statement in the world, as if you’re confident in exactly who you want to be. Abby is envious of it. She wonders what it’s like to be so free — to not wonder what everyone is constantly thinking about you — if you’re good enough. 

You don’t seem to care. 

“If you still wanna dance, I’d dance with you. We can be losers together.” You offer up to her as you stand to your feet, offering a hand up to her and she takes it willingly. You grab the jacket to her suit, helping her slip into it and she smoothes the jacket over her frame. 

“You really don’t have to—” But you look at her with the most absurd gaze of refusal, eyebrows furrowed as it makes this cute little line between them.  Abby can’t help but admire it. 

“Oh, we’re going to fucking dance and show whoever this bitch is just what she’s missing.” 

Present day. 

There’s a lot to be said for how you let yourself succumb to her again, it didn’t take much, just a batting of blonde eyelashes and irresistible pouty lips and you’d fallen victim to Abigail Anderson. The hardest thing you’ve ever done was leave her. All these years later, you’re right back to where you were before all of this had started. 

It seems to shock all of her friends when the two of you walk on together and even more shocking when Abby throws her arm behind you, engaging in conversation here and there. Mostly, you tune out the conversation and mindlessly sip on the beer in front of you. 

Hazel isn’t happy about the predicament, cold brown eyes sport a simmering guidance of rage as she watches Abby’s fingers on your shoulder tracing random patterns into your skin. The arrival of your presence in turn makes her take jabs at you all night. Even with your silence, it doesn’t stop her, and when you have no visceral reaction she finally goes for something that brings silence around the entire table. 

“Why are you even here? Breaking Abby’s heart wasn’t enough the first time? Why don’t you run back to your sick mother and stop playing with people just because it’s fun for you.” Hazel bites and you feel the swarm of your tears begin to build and she keeps going, “Isn’t that why you came back? Not because you actually care but because your mom is going to die.” 

“Sorry, excuse me—” Hazel scoffs as you slither away and head towards the bathroom. As if she’s accomplished, she sips on her margarita, like what she just did was a service to everyone here. 

Ellie and Dina sit there in shock, trying to process what the fuck had just happened. Jesse sits there silently, discomfort written all over his face. But Abby? She’s filled with a soaring hot rage, face flushed violet as her knuckles turn white. Hazel immediately shrinks into the booth, unprepared for what’s about to happen. 

She thought Abby would be happy, kicking someone who so wrongly hurt her to the curb. You didn’t deserve her. You never would. Hazel deserves you. She’s been here, waiting for Abby to see her and love her, not you. 

“What the fuck is your problem? Cherry wasn’t even doing a goddamn thing and you’ve been attacking them all damn night.” Abby’s rage is palpable, steaming to the touch, and nothing like any of them have ever seen. 

“I did this for you! She treated you horribly! She broke your heart! She deserves it.” 

Abby pinches the bridge of her nose, tossing her head against the wall, “This has got to fucking stop. Cherry broke up with me goddamn ten years ago and it’s none of your business.” Hazel could practically see the steam rolling off her before Abby raised her voice even more, “You didn’t have a right to bring up her mom regardless of whatever happened. Jesus, if I want to be around her or want Cherry around, everyone here is just going to have to fucking deal.” 

“Abby, we’re just trying to look out for you. Cherry only ever thinks about herself.” 

“Well fucking don’t. I can handle myself despite whatever you think I can deal with. Stay the fuck away from her or you’ll live to regret it.” 

Throwing a twenty on the table to cover her tab, she finds you washing your face, trying to get rid of the puffiness in your eyes. When you see her, you turn her away, a lame attempt to stop her from seeing you like this. 

Weak. Overbearing. A winded rush pressing on your lungs, struggling to breathe — you didn’t need any of this. Not to be back right where it all destroyed you. Then here she is, the living reminder of your transgressions, your failure, the one thing you couldn’t fix. 

All roads lead to her. All of it is sick and twisted. The look of love pierces through your soul, scouring through the place you keep hidden under lock and key; the part that still loves her. 

It demands attention. To be heard. To be seen. To violate you and your dreams, to place her before everything else. A violent reminder of how all of this started. Before you could catch up with the tide, everything flips, your entire life becomes a reflection of what you feared. 

Abby has her life together and yours is coming apart. 

Everyone hates you for what you become. For how little you cared about leaving the first twenty years of your life behind, a chapter closed and discarded as if it never existed to you in the first place. 

“Let me take you home, alright? I’m sorry for Hazel she’s—” 

“It’s fine.” You cut her off, drying your eyes, or trying to but you can’t stop crying in the first place. “It was stupid of me to agree to this.” 

“You aren’t stupid, sorry, she was being a cunt. It won’t happen again. I won’t let it happen.” 

Abby carefully wipes your tears away, “Hey, let’s get out of here. Yeah? My place is just up the street. Just the two of us.” 

You nod as Abby leads you out, her palm feels welcoming in your grip, a homecoming you have been dying to feel. Her touch feels warm, perfect as her fingers interlock with your own. Like no time has passed, it’s easy for you to slip back into her grasp. 

Everything about her feels right. When she helps you get in her truck, the old one her father always wanted to renovate and it seems she did just that. The ride is only a couple minutes before she’s parking in the garage of her home. She opens the door for you, a hand on your back as she leads you towards the door leading into her house. 

What you expect to be a farmhouse, a hint of southern barn meets boho chic, but you’re met with something else entirely. 

It’s exactly what she talked about building growing up. Everything else feels modern except the cherry red kitchen with white accents and marble countertops. There’s cherries everywhere, but it’s subtle enough to the naked eye, you wouldn’t blink twice.

The memory comes back to you in a hot flash, one you weren’t fond of. 

“We can have it all. I’ll buy you a damn house, I’ll give you whatever you want, whatever you need, I want this, Cherry. More than I’ve ever wanted anything. I love you, please, can’t you see a future with both of us?” 

“But I don’t want to be here. You know that! My dad can hardly look at me because I’m with a woman, my mom tries but she doesn’t understand. Is this the kind of life you want? They remind me that I’m not good enough. Who I love isn’t good enough, not if I’m not with a man. Can you understand I’m dying to get out of this nothin’ town?” 

Abby gnaws at her bottom lip, teeth drawing blood as she sees you drawing within yourself. Pulling back at the first sign of hardship. Even Abby wonders if she’s worth fighting for. 

“You mean dying to get away from me? I’m in this nothin’ town you despise so much.” 

“Abigail, you’re taking words out of my mouth, that’s not what I’m saying.” 

“You just want to leave and I don’t.” You look at her, her adorable pout in a frown, arms she’s been bulking for the past couple years begin to show definition. The freckles she hates grew more prominent on her skin as she spent the summer working for father’s construction company. 

Her life is here, her future is here, but for once since the two of you met, your own two different paths and no matter how much you love her — it just won’t work. 

“We’re eighteen! Our entire lives are in front of us. I can’t stay here, Abigail. I just can’t. I dream of a big city, somewhere my stories will take me places, a life that I can’t find here.” 

“You got the scholarship, didn’t you?” Abby barks, her chest puffing out, jaw clenching as she pleads for you to tell her the truth. “Tell me the truth. You’ve been lying to me, hoping I’d change my mind?” 

“I wasn’t lying. I just—” 

“What? You were just going to leave one morning and never come back? Like I mean nothing to you?” Abby removes her glasses to pinch the bridge of her nose. “Like the past two years have just been what? A way for you to pass time until your real life comes along. Fucking great.” 

“I told you from the start, I want more. I need to do more! No one gets into NYU around here and certainly not on a scholarship. I have a chance for a real future, a way out from my parents, a new life, I’ve always wanted this. You know I have.” 

“And I’ve always wanted you.” 

Silence engulfs the room, a pindrop could be heard, the tension could be cut with a knife but Abby sees the wall closing around you. Covering her from the heart you slowly opened up to her, what she fought tooth and nail for. She always fought for you but it’s hard to do anything when you don’t believe this is worth saving. 

“You don’t even have the decency to ask me.” 

“What?” 

“You just want to write me off. You lump me with everyone else because you don’t even give me the chance.” 

“What are you saying?” 

Abby’s blue eyes turn into ice, all the warmth void as the chill sends a shiver down your spine. Her throat feels tight, like even if she swallows her own spit she’ll choke. 

“Do you love me enough to make this work?” Abby flinches when you don’t immediately answer, because she knows where she stands, she would follow you across the world if it meant that’s what you wanted. To make you happy. But she can’t help but feel like she’s splitting herself apart for someone who doesn’t care in the way she does. 

With tears in your eyes, they cascade down your cheek before whispering to her, “I don’t.” 

“Get. Out.” She murmurs through clenched teeth, using the sleeve of her t-shirt, one you gifted her, to wipe away the tears that wouldn’t stop coming. The overflow of the heartache racked through her body like she’s never felt before. 

You don’t love her. You don’t love her. You never loved her. 

“Abs, please, don’t make me leave like this. Can we talk about this?” 

“What’s there to fucking talk about? We don’t love me, Cherry. What else is there to fucking say?” 

You nearly scream, not sure why anything you’re saying isn’t coming out the way you intended it to. “You’re not listening to me I—” 

“Right. You just need to find a man, right? God, you’re just like Lacey.” 

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” You bite, and if looks could kill, Abby would be dead right now. She’s struck a nerve, the memory of sophomore year comes flooding back to her, back when all of this started. “God, fuck you. How could you possible compare me to the straight girl that pulled you along because what she really wanted was Daniel Collins to fuck her so stupid she ended up pregnant junior year.” 

“You’re leaving, when your back is pressed up against a wall, you’ll always leave, Cherry.” 

“But I—” You stop yourself before you could speak the forbidden words, the ones you’ve said to her a million times, the one you just refuted that you did even if she can usually call you right on your bullshit. But you’ve diluted her sense of reasoning and all she hears is her girlfriend of two years just told her she doesn't love her. 

“You what? What other lies are you going to tell me?” 

“Fine.” Your expression turns stone cold, “Let’s both be done with it then. There’s nothing left to fight for.”  

Prideful ego gets in the way of what Abby wants and she finally lets her head speak for her, “Sounds good to me.” 

“Are you alright?” Abby asks but then she notices you’re just staring at her kitchen and she’s never been so self-conscious in her life. She didn’t even think about it, she’s so used to others seeing it but it’s different when your muse is taking in the craft you created with them in mind. 

“Oh, right, the cherries.” She stutters out, scratching the back of her neck as she turns the lights on. It smells of vanilla and something oak, just like she smelled in high school. To others it may seem boring but it’s refreshing to know she’s still the same as she was. 

“You still did it?” 

“Yeah, it’s kinda lame honestly, maybe I should have done something else but nothing ever fit right with the rest of the house so.” Abby pops open a beer, somehow needing to have some type of liquor while you gawk at the work she created with you in mind. “If I’m being honest, I think it was just a way for me to hold onto you. I sure didn’t think I would ever see you again.” 

“Me neither.” You answered truthfully, the loss of Abby rattled you, even though you were better at hiding it. Losing her is still the most painful loss you had to endure, which she considers fortunate, but not fortunate enough. “I always thought about what would have happened if I hadn’t been so headstrong. I think I had to convince myself in order to leave, I would have stayed here for you if not.” 

“I find that hard to believe.” Even if she pretends not to be, Abby’s still bitter. 

“Why?” 

“You always knew what you wanted out of life and that wasn’t me.” Abby chews on her bottom lip again, picking the label of the beer before taking another swig. “Hell, you left before I even got a chance to say goodbye.” 

“What?” Eyebrows scrunched in confusion as you take a step forward, “Did you come to the house?” 

“Of course I did. I wasn’t going to leave things like that. Did you not—” 

“No, I didn’t know, I thought that was it. I didn’t expect there to be more for my sake.” 

The way she looks at you feels like she’s peering into her soul, the way she sees you so clearly, better than anyone ever has, chilling you to your core. Bits and pieces of your love located in eyes that glimmer only for her, light electrified the moment your sights are set on her. 

It feels like falling in love with a broken melody. 

You admire the imperfections instead of leaving at the bridge. 

“I waited on your porch for hours but then your parents came home, saying they just had gotten back from dropping you off.” 

In a matter of moments, your entire world feels flipped, like everything you had known for the last ten years, a terrible lie you wished to never know. A nightmare you would hope to wake up from. That’s all this was, you would wake up in her father’s home as you fought in the kitchen, you convince yourself not to let go of the best thing that’s ever happened to you. 

“You came back for me?” 

Closing the space between the two of you, grabbing her beer and placing it on the countertop. Abby takes an intake of breath as you invade every part of her personal space. As corny as it sounds, you do smell of cherries. So sweet, her bones feel weak with need, as if she doesn’t inhale the sugar she’ll just crumble at your feet, begging for just one drop. 

“Yeah, I cried in front of your dad who hated me at the time, might I add. After that, he was kind, I think because he saw how much I…you know…” 

You remember how much he changed when you came home for the holidays three years later. Naturally, you always accepted he had just come around over time, but it wasn’t that at all — the weeps of your high school girlfriend convinced him. 

“Guess he saw how much I loved you or something…I don’t know…” She shrugs like it’s nothing. 

Like she's nothing; the careless lie you let her believe. 

Even with her dominating physical presence, she’s always been shy about this sort of thing. Expressing her feelings never really came easy, even if she wore them with her heart on her sleeve, admitting them was different than feeling them. 

“You changed his mind.” 

“He would have gotten there eventually. I’m sure he liked whoever you dated after me.” 

“Hm.” You grimly laugh, “He didn’t. Not the two I brought home but he always spoke fondly of you, he definitely likes you better then he enjoys his own kid.” 

Patient she is watching you process the information, it’s almost too much for her to swallow. What if you had been home when she was going to say goodbye? Would this be your home with her? The dreams of kissing her in the kitchen, cherry inspired, the family home she always wanted to build for the two of you. Now she’s here with no one but herself. Withering away the soul of a woman who only wanted love. 

“He loves you and if he doesn’t, that’s his loss. Trust me, I know it too well.” 

The confession hangs on the walls like a memorial, taking a trip down memory lane, or more like the hell of your own making. Demons you conjured cast over your past as if they only exist in hollow halls. The deeper you go, the more your heart slivers in the cracks of her delicate grip. For the first time, you don’t mind when she presses on your heartbeat — demanding more with just looking at you the way she does. 

The way she always has. 

“Do you still love me?” 

“Are you going to run away if I tell you?” 

Lips ghost over you, her breath hits your face, making it flush with heat. She leans against the counter, wrapping your back with one of her arms, tugging you close to her. 

“Abby, I’m a mess.” 

“I know.” 

“I don’t know what my family is going to look like or my future.” 

“I know.” 

“Abigail, would you stop saying that?” 

“I’ve only ever cared about you, I don’t care if your life is together. I’m here and I—” She dips her head to kiss down your neck, decorating your collarbones with her lips as she creates a map back to where she wants to the most, “will take care of you.” 

Abby kisses you like the air in her lungs is expendable, as she has endless amounts to give. That’s all she is love, pouring into every ounce of you that she can find. With desperate abandon, she wants to wipe your memory of every wrong she ever did you — she only wants to remind you of the reason why she loves you. Maybe it’ll be enough for you to wake up in her arms again. 

For once, she might be enough. 

“We don’t have to do this, I don’t know what it all means and—” 

“Right now? I don’t fucking care.” Abby leeches off your neck, kissing and delicately sucking, grazing her sharp teeth against sensitive skin. “I just want you.” 

Thoughtless abandon goes out the window as she guides you back into her apartment, off the spacious balcony and corners you into her room. Letting you fall on her bed as she stands above you, as she strips in front of you. Making a show of it, torturing you for sport, before she goes in for the kill. 

The alcohol still alive in your mind as she pulls off, a freckled maze maps its way all over her body. The subtle blonde happy trails travels underneath her navel and disappears beneath the fabric of her denim jeans. Your own self-control begins to slip, but Abby is too concerned with evening out the playing field. Even if this is a long-lasting goodbye, she’s going to make it last. 

Slipping your trousers down your legs, she’s met with cotton boxers — soaked all the way through. 

“Is that all for me?” Abby snaps the waistband against your skin as you squirm underneath your touch, bucking your hips into the air. Impossibly desperate for her touch. 

“Y-Yes, It’s for—” Irrevocably your eyes roll back into your skull, “Abigail, oh shit, shit, shitttt.”  

Sneaking a hand in your boxers, she opens up your inviting folds, slippery and as Abby glides along, collecting your slick with the calloused fingers. You squirm and shift, bucking into her hand, waiting for more to be given to you. 

“Just say my name like that pretty girl, so good for me, aren’t you?” Abby removes her hand as she pulls your boxers off your legs and without being asked she slides them down your legs as she pushes your shirt up to your tits, exposing the swell of your breasts to her possessive eyes, waiting to lay claim onto what she’s missed for the past ten years. 

“I wonder if you’re just as…” Abby takes a beat before rubbing over your hard nipple along her tongue, her denim-glad thigh grinding against your thigh as she suckles at your breasts. “Sensitive.” 

She moans into your skin, using her free hand to play with your pussy, soft strokes to your clit as she elicits more moans from you. The force of her strength and weight keeps you down, the stutter of your hips chasing her fingers. 

“My pretty baby, not so mean and bossy anymore, huh?” She bites your nipple gently before whispering in your ear, “Did you miss me that much?” 

“I just want more, please.” 

In any other circumstance, she happily would make you pay for it. Wait even, but if she doesn’t have you in her mouth for another second, she won’t survive. You’re so beautiful, you’re perfect in every conceivable way. The years had in fact been kind to you, different from what she knew when the two of you had sex but god, she thinks you’re even more exquisite now. 

“More?” Abby removes what remains of her clothing, leaving you to gawk at her muscled frame, small tits frame her chest perfectly. “How about you sit on my face, angel? How does that sound?” 

She’s already made you come twice, just on her tongue alone, pushing for a third as she holds you by the waist, waiting for your overstimulated body to give into her once more. 

Abby makes everyone look inadequate when it comes to her, no one could touch you like this, fuck you like this, slither their talent tongue inside your waiting hold as you take her out for a ride. Muffled moans against your dripping cunt sends shivers throughout your spine, body twitching as you feel yourself hurling closer to the edge. 

You can’t help but ride her face as your head lies on the bundle of curves covering her mound and you’ve been too fucked out the entire time to do anything but you can’t help but notice the way her patient cunt is shining with her slick. Curiosity blooms within you as you notice the slight thrust of her hips, chasing a part of you that isn’t there. 

With no sudden warning, you vigorously rub on her wet folds, applying pressure on her bundle of nerves as you spread her sweet juices along her puffed lips. 

“Baby, nghhh, oh my god.” Abby slurps as she sucks your clit into her mouth before you fall right over the edge again. Her eager tongue fucks your through it with her tongue, letting your ride the high as your nails scratch her stomach, marking her as yours once again. 

Abby helps your weak body slide down her legs, flipping you over as your pussy falls against her, her legs spread open as your head rests against her sternum, feeling the increased rate of her heart beat thump against her chest. 

She smooths her hand over your hair, gorgeous hypnotic eyes pull at Abby’s heart. “We should get some sleep.” 

“We can…unless you want to entertain a thought I’m having.” Abby raises her eyebrow as rotate your hips, clit bumping against hers as she throws her head back, a string of curses fall from her lips as she grips onto your hips. Happily, she lets you take control, pushing her strong leg over your shoulder as you glide against her soaked pussy. 

“Oh fuck, fuck, holy fucking shit—” 

Perfect tits bouncing as you rock your hips against her movement, the more you look in her eyes, you feel yourself yearning for another release. It’s never been this good, never with anyone. The moans she whispers, kept in the secret coven of your love, the spells she casts to keep you near — it trumps anything you’ve ever felt. 

“Keep looking at me, Abigail.” The whine of her full name, only ever falling from your lips, the most wonderful symphony. It’s intoxicating how much she loves it. How much she loves you. Deep in her bones, even if she tries her best to pull away, she knows not a damn thing will ever compare to this. For this life and the next, she’ll be searching for you in everyone she meets. 

She can’t live another moment with you. Not after ten years of agony, fuck no, she needs you like she needs oxygen to breathe. You’re not sure how long it takes, but you don’t forget how Abby looks at you with a tender heart that basically pours out of her. 

“Baby, please. N-N-gh, I need you.” You push her forward, hitting a deeper angle than you were before until you hear just how wet she is with your forehead pressed against hers, “Show me how my pretty girl comes, yeah? Need a reminder, princess.” 

Abby moans out your name, her body fucking up into you, slithering her convulsing cunt against your clit as her defined abdomen twitches and only relaxes when you follow her lead, you body collapsing on her. Two hearts beats become one as the two of you fall asleep, a quiet whisper of I love you, but you’re not sure if it falls from your lips or hers. 

The morning air breathes lilies and fresh espresso, her sweet cinnamon cologne lingers in her sheets, where she held you all night with her heavenly embrace. Reality sinks in and then you’re afraid once again. You slip one of her button up shirts on, pulling on a pair of her sweats before your feet are met with the cool wooden floors. 

She’s sitting there, those stupid glasses she apparently didn’t get rid of. Making her look stupid cute as she read the velvet-green covered book in her large palms. 

It’s easy for her to tell how you feel, Abby knows you too well as she watches you with cautious eyes. You’re so afraid of it all. Always, you’ve been afraid of what she makes you feel, how close she pushes you to the edge of no return. A love you feel helpless to, especially when it eats you from the inside out. 

“Do you wanna leave? I can take you home.” Abby doesn’t even look up from her book, she sounds annoyed, completely different than her vulnerable demeanor last night. It puzzles you when she closes herself off. 

“Am I missing something? Did I do something wrong?” 

Abby folds her book, marking the page on the sharp corner before she takes off her glasses. “You don’t owe me anything if that’s what you’re worried about. You felt like you didn’t before. You in all your city glory.” 

Something happened. 

“Abby, what’s going on?” 

“You tell me.” She places your phone on the table and it’s the email detailing of your new book tour in Europe. One that lasts the better part of the year. 

“You snooped through my phone?” 

“I didn’t mean to, I thought it was mine, okay? I would never do that.” Abby sighs, “I really didn’t mean to fucking look. I just, it’s happening all over again, I’m losing you over something. I’m never what you pick and I can’t ever be enough for you. Even Hazel was right! All you do is hurt me and it���s my fault because I let you. I can’t keep chasing you. It’s a stupid dream I’m too dumb enough to let go of.” 

“So, that’s it? Last night was just what? A mistake?” 

“I didn’t say that—” 

“But you did! Fuck, I should have known things wouldn’t change.” 

“You should have known? This is the same reason why you left me. I’ll lose you, again, to something I can’t compete with. The both of us know it to be true. At least have the decency to admit it.” 

“Do you want me to apologize? I did what I wanted! I have everything I wanted. This is everything I’ve worked towards for the best ten years—” 

“But you don’t—” Abby puffs out her chest, standing taller than she has since you’ve been back. The words spill just like you did the night before, “You didn’t get everything, you made sure of it the moment you left me behind.” 

Abby has backed you into a corner, stalking you like you’re her prey but this isn’t how she wants everything to be. Looking into your dreary eyes, she’s transported back to when you shattered her heart, splitting into pieces that no longer fit. The harder she tries to piece them back, the more jagged she becomes. 

“I don’t want this. I’ve let go of it.” 

I let go of you, sounds entirely too painful to say. 

“That’s your plan? To pretend none of this has happened?” Abby’s tongue prods the inside of her cheek, a cocky smirk flashes your way. “Look at how well it turned out the first time.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Your arms cross over your chest, attempting to create some distance between the two of you, but Abby only closes you in. 

“Why do you still wear it?” 

“What are you talking about?” 

Abby reaches for your hand, you untangle your limbs, the pad of her thumb loving running over the silky skin. Her calloused hand feels rough, just as it always has, but it also feels right. 

The silver ring on your pinky, the one you lost and the one your father had conveniently found. But it was never him who located your perfect gem, nope. Not at all. Just Abby’s biggest fan, besides Hazel. 

The reminder of her leaves a sour taste saturating your tongue, but you have no right. It's her friend, and just because you’re not fond of her, doesn’t mean a thing. You’re just a ghost still lingering in her life. Even if she answers there’s nothing, Hazel looks at her like you used to. When the same protectiveness switched into high gear last night, she only thought of how much you would do the exact same thing Hazel did if the roles were reversed. 

Just maybe, not as cruel. 

Abby takes the ring off your thumb, it shines in the dim lighting in the room.

“The day I fell in love with you, three months into our relationship, I gave it to you. Do you remember what I said?” 

Simply, you nod. 

“Wear this for as long as you love me and when you’ve taken it off, I’ll know we’re truly done.” Abby hums, your eyes shut as her thigh wedges between your legs but it only rests there. “But I hope you wear it forever.” 

“Then let go of me, give it back, throw it away, but stop acting like you might still feel the same. I’m tired of being played. You know how much this ring means to me. Don’t leave me, again.” 

It’s a cop out for what she really wants to say, the both of you know it is, but you have the decency to let it swarm past without making a single comment. 

She’s begging for mercy. She’s tired. The lines on her skin are an indication of the hours she spends in the sun and the time passing by, engaging you in a never-ending tsunami of Abigail Anderson’s love. 

“Abigail—” You say her name like it’s a curse, a spell you keep casting to make her fall deeper in your endless abyss. “Just because it seems like a good idea doesn’t mean it’ll work out. What makes this time any different?” 

You slid away from her, needing to breathe, you can’t think when she’s too close. Serendipity finds home into honey blues, working its magic until she finds purchase in your heart once again. You’d let her get too close, more than you should let her allow. 

Abby, the heart. 

You, the head. 

The dreamer. The thinker. Forever intertwined by the deadly kiss of fate. 

“But if it did? What if we did?” 

Abby doesn’t want to beg, but she is. She learned her lesson the first time. She said nothing all those years ago, letting you take the relationship the two of you had by the reigns, your cruelty being the fatal blow to what the two of you had worked so hard to build. Naivety crushed the future right in front of her — the one she regularly dreams of. 

Each what if connected like constellations in the sky, each one just as bright as the next, Abby can’t make of which she wants. But Abby has always known it to be true, this has always been it for her but you’re so afraid. 

Still petrified to be loved. 

“I can’t let myself go through it again, if we didn’t? I can’t just—” You begin pacing, trying to get yourself into a position to clear your mind. The hope she has, it could kill you in your sleep. “I fucked up, okay? Last night shouldn’t have happened. I needed something and I used you. Is that what you want to hear? Will that satisfy you enough?” 

“I want the goddamn fucking truth, Cherry. Stop with the lies. Tell me you want this to end because you don’t love me anymore, or that you want to go on this book tour, not because you fucked up. I don’t care if you fucked me because you needed your clit sucked for the night. Tell me the truth, Cherry, please.” 

“Stop calling me that.” 

Abby chuckles maliciously, “Why? You don’t like to remember when you were in love, the only time you ever were happy, the only time you ever let anyone get close to you?” 

She attempts to get closer to you but you dodge her and walk to the other side of the room. 

“You’re quite literally running away from me. Anything but facing the truth, right?” Abby sighs into her hands. The muscles in her body are exhausted, her heart is over spent, and her mind is filled with you. Even if she doesn’t want it to be. “Do you think I want this? To feel like this? To put my heart on the line when you clearly show that you’ll discard it every damn time? Do you think this is enjoyable for me?” 

“Then stop! I’m not asking you to, just let me leave, let me go.” 

“Let the ring go.” Somehow, in your heat of emotion, you grabbed it back from her and didn't realize it had been placed back on your thumb. “You know it was my mom’s, how could you so selfishly keep this?” 

“What?” 

Fuck. Abby runs her hands through her hair,  gripping so tightly her sunkissed knuckles turn white from nearly being pulled from the root. 

“But you said this was—” 

“I lied! I was eighteen and scared shitless, okay? I didn’t want you to—” 

“You didn't want me to….?” 

Abby sighs rubbing her hand over her face, a habit she seemed to pick up in your presence. “If I tell you, you’re just going to run.” 

You grimace, tearing up as you look at the ring, it means so much to her and all this time she was perfectly fine with thinking you got rid of it. Abby never so much as asked for it back. But everything feels more final with the ring in hand, the shining promise of something more. But the naivety of youth chilled her bones, made her believe that love like this comes and goes. It goes. And goes. And goes. 

It never comes. 

“Do you want it back?” You dodge whatever omission she was about to let fall. It’s what you do best. Avoiding the future — she’s always been ominous, constantly you’re scared to believe in the faith of her undying love. The forgiveness of her heart pours like an overflowing well. Abby teeters you along the line of grace you don’t quite deserve.   

“No.”  Abby sighs before she brings herself close to you. “I want you back, Cherry. There’s nothing I’ve ever wanted as much as you. When you left, everyone told me it’s just because you're my first love. Time heals all, right? But it doesn’t. Despite your best efforts, I’ll always love you. You’re—” 

You take a step closer to her, “I’m what?”

“You’re the love of my life. If you walk at that door, it’ll take the rest of my life to fill the gap you leave. But if you don’t love me, then please, put me out of my misery and just leave.” 

Abby looks down at the wood floors, tears collecting in her eyes as she expects you to walk out the front door, leaving her in the dust. But the slam of her front door never comes, instead you sink down on your knees resting your head on her knee, waiting for her to look down at you. 

“What?” Abby grunts. 

“There was this cute, really nerdy blonde girl, she puked on prom night, crying over some straight girl and somehow I managed to fall in love with her despite all odds but you know what the real kicker is?” You intertwined her hands with her, your head tilting to the side as your dreamily looked into sunny-blues, sticking to you like honey,

“I never, ever stopped.”

[atskiruma]

his attempts at courting you

expl: he finds himself thinking about you more often, wanting to seek you out consistently, and giving you numerous gifts every day to see you smile

a/n: it has come to my attention that the last ff i wrote, (snow day) was not very well depicted for all readers to enjoy, i want to apologize for that and promise that i will get better at trying to make sure everyone is able to read it and enjoy it, my writings are targeted for all | unfortunately, i can not edit it right now seeing as there's a poll going on, but once that poll is finished i will change my wording in the ff

ask me anything masterlist

second person writing no pronouns used

Zhongli often felt himself thinking about you more often while he was working around the parlor. Even seeking out your name in conversations and listening more attentively when someone was speaking about you. It didn't confuse him though, he was aware of his interest in you.

You opened up the warmth in his heart and welcomed him kindly every time you two saw each other. It made him happy to see you happy, and this was evident when flowers were delivered directly to your door one sunny afternoon.

"These are for you," The mail lady said before turning around and walking away to do more deliveries. You didn't even get to ask who they were from before she was gone. Staring down at the bouquet of tiger lilies in front of you, you could only assume that the bright orange and black colors could depict a certain someone's hair color.

It was a nice piece on your kitchen counter and went well with the other decorations spiraling around your house. That was, until the next morning, you were greeted again with another gift. A bright orange vase to compliment the tiger lilies you received the other day. It was funny, why was he going out of his way to send you such nice gifts?

You finally managed to confront him when you saw Childe and Zhongli sitting together on the seats of an outside cafe. Walking over and waving to the both of them. They greeted you back, and small talk was given for only a couple minutes.

"I actually came over here to thank Zhongli," This caught his attention, and he turned to look up at you, "I really loved the flowers you sent and the vase goes really well with them too!" You said while smiling.

He nodded back at you, seemingly collecting himself extremely quickly at the fact you figured out so quick who it was. "I'm glad you liked them," He said.

"I came to give you this in return," You said," "I know it's probably not as extravagant as the ones you gave me, but I like it." Handing over the small gift box, he opened it and smiled softly at the item. It was a small keychain, nothing special, and it was decorated with a lovely orange seem.

That same keychain would be hung up right next to his bedframe, along with variant letters you sent him on the table accompanying it.

Diluc was someone who took courting another person seriously. He found it tradition since his father had spoken so much of it when Diluc was younger. He always wanted to treat the one he loved with respect and be as much of a gentleman as possible.

This was why you were taking a stroll with him through his grapevines on a sunny afternoon. He offered for you to come down to the Winery a couple days ago and you had just gotten around to accepting his offer. His hand rested on your back as he took you through multiple different paths and explained everything. As you strolled, he talked about things concerning the vine, his profits, the seasons they needed to be planted, etc.

You smiled at him, knowing it was something he took dear to his heart, and listened very attentively to what he was saying. In reality, Diluc was really hoping that all he was talking about didn't bore you in any way.

Then, the next couple of hours were spent sitting in his large dining room, eating food made by the cooks in his home. It was nice, and you were very happy that he wanted to spend this much time with you. Diluc even found himself watching you eat here and there, asking you if the food was good or if you needed anything else in the time being.

After everything was over, and the night sky shined over the two of you as you stood outside his doors, he leaned down and pressed a small kiss to your hand. Telling you how much of a pleasure it was to have you here, and how he wished you could stay longer.

Diluc even offered to walk you home, tediously not taking no for an answer, he reached down to take your hand and hold it the whole walk home.

Alhaitham was very closed off when he first met you, he was closed off with anyone in general. He found it strange that you always seemed to be there when he was thinking about you, and when his eyes would try and search a room in the akademiya for you.

He realized that something had to be done about this, so, he did what any other raging nerd would do, and researched about it.

You also found it odd when you'd see him looking at you from across the library, or holding the door open for you whenever you'd walking behind him. Alhaitham always seemed like the guy who only cared about his own, yet he was so evident in helping you out here and there.

Helping you when you'd be confused about a book, rewording your essays to make them better. Alhaitham seemed to want to assist you with almost everything. This was no different than today.

You found yourself back at the library looking down at a long-written parchment on the forest rangers' activities. Trying to figure out how you could make this work in the essay you were conducting on Sumeru's forest.

This was when you heard the chair scrap right next to you, and looked up from where you had originally been focused. Alhaitham took his seat next to you, slightly taking up more space than necessary with his manspreading.

"Do you need help with that? It looks like a longer report than usual for you."

"Longer than usual?" You shot back, "Are you saying that I'm not capable of reading this?" His eyes widened a bit and he instantly tried to retort his original statement. "No, no, I thought- Well- You know you usually read shorter reports in order to get more details. I didn't think you'd take something this large to account."

His confession made you smile, and you leaned in closer, "How'd you know how I like my reports?" At the response with your cheeky grin, a blush formed on his cheeks before he looked away.

"Scholars are supposed to be attentive, it's natural to know a few things you prefer in order to work best with you."

The response he sent back your way caused you to roll your eyes and turn back to what you were originally doing. "To answer your question, no, I do not need help, but thank you for offering."

That didn't seem to make him budge, because he kept sitting there watching you copy down and write words from the book.

"You misspelled climate."

The sound of a book colliding with his head echoed throughout the library.

Ayato enjoyed your company, a lot, so much that he seeks you out anytime he and his sister go down to festivals or strolls through the city. He always wanted to start up a conversation with you, and if anyone else walked by anytime he'd be down there, Ayato would be right next to you listening with a smile at whatever you said.

Ayaka loved you too and found it amusing that her brother was so interested in you. She often found herself trying to spark up conversations with you, asking if her older brother proposed yet in a joking manner.

You laughed it off, Ayato was nice but you were sure he had other rich and important people to concern his love life with. He was just a very nice man to talk with here and there, and you didn't seem to notice that you were one of the few he'd actually seek out.

That was, until, every time he saw you, he came with some form of jewelry or expensive item to give you. Asking you how your day was, what you were doing, and if you wanted to come to spend some time up at the estate with him.

"What about Ayaka?" You said with a tilt of your head in confusion. He smiled back and said, "I'm sure she'd rather stay down here and explore more of the shops.

Ayaka would have loved to come along, but before she could even turn around, the two of you were already heading back up to the estate.

He catered to you, made sure you were comfortable, and even asked if you'd like anything from his personal chefs. It was a bit much to handle, seeing as you weren't used to living so luxurious, but he was very nice about it all and understood.

The catering didn't stop after that day either, more and more people began to wonder why the Kamisato siblings were spending so much more time outside their palace. Ayaka once mentioned that you loved a certain color, and the next day Ayato was handing you a box with that color, and a necklace with the pearl containing that color too.

He even found himself marching over to you when he saw someone speaking to you in a more flirtatious matter. Moving next to you and asking if everything was alright while his hand wrapped around your own.

[mydarlingem]

ever since we met

guys we are SO BACK i bring gifts <3 didnt realize how much i would miss writing on here. currently working on rewriting old work and new stuff so i can get back to posting on a weekly basis. hope you have been well and enjoy!!

cw. sakusa kiyoomi eats pussy, what more could you need

wc. 1800

you met sakusa kiyoomi two years ago when he took over his father’s business. every monday and saturday at 4 pm, he knocked on the back door of your flower shop. big boxes filled with one the best flowers for you. it was also two years ago when you first opened the door for him that you realized you loved him. he was so sweet and kind, always taking time to ask about you and following up on events in your life. you figured he did this with everyone on his route. little did you know that your sweet kiyoomi did not ask questions about any of his other deliveries.

he was determined to get to know you, however long it took him. he knew the movies you saw, the terrible dates you went on, your favorite flowers and your least favorite customers. no detail was too small for him, because he did care about it all. he liked your passion for your work and your love for the people around you. ever since he knocked on that door monday at 4 pm two years ago he has loved you. he knows it crazy, and he can't rationalize it for the life of him but he knows it's the truth. he knows you probably don't reciprocate but god he can't help it.

“hey kiyoomi what did you bring for me today?” you say with a smiled as you prop open the door for him. the way you say his name makes him weak in the knees, he loves how comfortable you are around him. “besides my beautiful face, everything you had on your list and an extra case of snapdragons because i know you always run out by thursday.” he smiles at you and sets down the boxes. “you really are the best thank you” you say as you walk back over to the counter to continue cleaning roses. “how are you today my favorite florist?” he asks as he sets down the last three boxes in their designated spot. “busy and understaffed” you sigh. “glad to know things always stay the same around here” he smiles and hands you a clipboard for a signature.

he likes the way you sign your name, he can't explain it but it suits you. “you know you are the last delivery of the day, so is there anything i can do to help out?” he takes the clipboard back from you as you hold back from speaking for a moment. “i have so much to do are you sure?” you ask hoping it's not just pity. “i'm here for whatever you need” he says as he takes his hoodie off and sets his things down. you never realized how many tattoos he has, or how big his biceps were. maybe him staying was good for morale. “would mind cleaning some mums for me?” he nods and steps to the counter to start.

its quiet for a little, the silence isn't awkward though. you look over at him, he's so efficient. his hands are so perfect, how is he so perfect? his voice snaps you out of your trance. “how was that date you had last week?” he asks, not looking up from the flowers in his hands. “lets just say i won’t be seeing him again” you exhale softly, mentally pleading that the very attractive man across from you will not ask you to embarrass yourself further. kiyoomi laughs softly before speaking again, “i can't believe we have never hung out outside of work” he says as he continues to clean flowers. his heart was racing at this point, you made him so nervous he was hoping you couldn’t tell.

“i know it's so crazy! we have to do something soon” you say with a smile. “well what are you doing this weekend? there’s a new bar i want to check out and i’d love to take you.” “if i didn't know any better i would think you were asking me out on a date kiyoomi” you smile before looking up at him and making eye contact with him. “and what if i am?” he says still smiling, your cheeks were so hot, was he messing with you? “well i'd think you were joking” you say trying to control the tone of your voice. he sets his flowers down as he makes his way to the other side of the table where you stand with shaky hands.

“oh im dead serious pretty girl” he runs his hand along your jaw tilting your chin towards his face. he's smiling at you like you hung and the moon and stars just for him. hes so close all you can smell is his cologne, god did he always smell this good? you aren’t sure who leans in first but your lips touch and suddenly everything feels so right. hes holding your face in his hand but slowly becoming so desperate as he kisses you. the cold metal of his lip piercings feels so good against your lips. you can't seem to get enough of him and you wrap your arms around his neck. he taps your thighs as you wrap your legs around him, he gently sets you on the counter. he breaks away from the kiss breathless and rests his head against your shoulder “you're so perfect” he all but whimpers against the skin of your neck.

“i've wanted to kiss you for so long” you say as he kisses your neck, and you run your hands through his soft hair. he moans softly at the contact and lifts his head up to kiss you again. standing in between your thighs he wraps his hands around your waist, smiling into the kiss. he can't believe this moment is real, he can't believe he finally worked up the courage to to act on his feelings. the all too familiar jingle of the front door opening snaps the both of you out of your bliss. “fuck” you say as you hop off the counter, “hi ill be right there." you look back to kiyoomi “will you please stay i promise i'll be so quick”. he smiles “dont worry im not going anywhere sweetheart.” you smile and kiss him on the cheek before running off to the front.

this might be the happiest he’s ever been. you’re so soft and sweet and oh my god he loves how gentle you are with him. he loves the effect he has on you, in fact he may just never move from this spot in the hope that you kiss him like that again. “thank you have a great day” you chirp as your voice breaks him out of his trance. you appear into the doorway to the back of the door with a smile. “hi” you say as you make your way back over to him, “hi sweet girl” he wraps his arms around you again. “i close in about 30 minutes, will you come home with me?” you ask shocked by your own boldness. the way you are looking at him he thinks he might die. “god i'll be wherever you want me.” the effect you had on him was unreal. “let me drop off my truck and i'll be back in fifteen”, “be quick” you say as you twirl his hair with your fingers. have you always been this hot?

kiyoomi was convinced was losing his mind. he has never moved faster in his life. he doesn't even remember driving his motorcycle back to your shop. all he knew is that he was walking back into your shop with more determination than he's ever felt before. “hi handsome” you say as he drapes his body against yours. “almost done?” he asks as he kisses your cheek. “i have about fifteen minutes before i can go but i'm all done.” you turn to kiss him as he plays with the waistband of your jeans. the kiss is messy and hot, he felt weak in the knees. “i can think of a few things to pass the time” he says as he breaks away from the kiss.

you smile looking up at him, his face was flushed and you could help but be proud of the effect you had on him. “please let me eat you out” your jaw drops at his words. “here?” you ask and he grins “here” he says as he drops to his knees in front of you. you could finish from just looking at this beautiful large man on his knees in front of you. “god please” he's quick to unzip your pants and slide them down your legs. he places small kisses along your thighs as he moves to put your legs on his shoulders. he kisses you through your underwear and you whimper softly. sliding your underwear to the side he starts softly using his tongue, and puts a finger inside you as he continues.

you grip his hair and squeeze your thighs against his head as he quickened his pace. “harder” he whimpers into you and you squeeze harder. god his tongue piercing is incredible. you are getting close to finishing, and he can tell. he moans into you like this is pleasuring him just as much as it is you. “more kiyo” you moan out. he moves faster as he inserts another finger. the nickname could have made him cum in his pants. you are quickly approaching your high as you stutter out an “im close” he's moving faster than before, focused on you and only you. he's eating you out like a man starved, the cold metal of his piercing mixed with the warmth of his fingers had you seeing stars.

you moan his name as you finish and he cleans you up with his tongue. your legs were shaking as he stands up and licks the rest of you off of his slender fingers. “you're so incredible” you say as you wrap your arms around him and kiss him, the taste of you still on his tongue. “i've been dying to do that for two years” he says as he pulls away from you. “i love you kiyoomi” you say looking him in the eyes, "i've been dying to tell you that for two years" mustering the courage to confess everything to him. “god i love you” he says cupping your face in his hands as he kisses you again. “i love you i love you i love you” he says softly in between kisses. "ill spend forever making you feel it."

[vodika-vibes]

Secret Admirer

Summary: When you get a bouquet and a love letter left on your front porch, you jump to the logical conclusion that they were left for you by your boyfriend. Turns out, they’re not from him. And it bothers him a lot.

Pairing: Clone Commando Scorch x F!Reader

Word Count: 1321

Warnings: Scorch gets jealous and can't keep his hands to himself.

A/N: I was in a Scorch mood this morning, and so this was born. I really need to focus on my requests but, guys, I'm struggling right now. I can't wait until spring gets here.

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When the doorbell rings in the middle of the day, shortly after lunch, you’re surprised. People don’t visit you, and you’re not expecting any deliveries today, but it also wouldn’t be the first time your mom bought you something without warning you, so you pause your work and make your way to the front door.

By the time you open the door, there’s no one there. 

But, sitting next to your door is a massive bouquet of red roses and a pink envelope wrapped to the vase with a white ribbon.

And you just about melt on the spot.

Obviously, the flowers are from Scorch. Who else would send you flowers other than your long-term boyfriend?

A bit disappointing that he doesn’t know what your favorite flowers are, but it’s the thought that counts, right? You pick up the flower arrangement and bring it into your home, absently kicking the door shut behind you, and settle the vase on your kitchen table.

Gently, you adjust the flowers so that they don’t look squished, and you pull the envelope off the vase. You slide your finger under the seal of the envelope and pull the simple card out.

It’s really simple. Pale pink card stock with a flower design indented on the cardstock. And the text is written in a neat if not flowery, calligraphy. It’s pretty.

Not really your style, but pretty all the same.

You lean against the counter and read the note. It’s, quite possibly, the sappiest love note you’ve ever read in your life. It’s also the only love note you’ve ever received in your life, so maybe it’s always like this?

However, Scorch does compare your eyes to stars three times and your lips to the petals of a flower twice…which is weird. And not at all like Scorch. 

He’s never, in the year you’ve been dating him, compared you to nature. He doesn’t compare you to anything, as he claims that it wouldn’t be a fair comparison to the other things.

For a moment, just a moment, you think that this can’t possibly be from Scorch. But then you push the idea to the side.

There isn’t another person alive who would buy you flowers, and the weirdness is probably just a template that the company has for hapless boyfriends and husbands.

You wouldn’t be surprised, based on some of the gifts your father has gifted your mother over the years.

So you push the worry to the side and set the card on the table next to the flowers, and then you return to your office to go back to work. You need to finish all of your work so you can spend the next ten days with Scorch without interruption.

Several hours later, as you send the final email out to your supervisor, and then mark yourself on vacation for the next week or so, you hear the familiar sound of Scorch moving near the front door.

His armor is heavy, and he can’t help but make a lot of noise. “I’m home,” He calls from the front hallway.

“Welcome back,” You roll your chair back to push your office door open, “I’m almost done here, and then we can decide where we’re going for dinner.”

A moment later, Scorch appears at the door to your office, a crooked smile on his handsome face. He’s only wearing his blacks, and you can’t help the lovestruck sigh when you see him. He really is unfairly gorgeous.

His grin widens at your sigh, but he doesn’t tease you about it. Well, not yet at least.

“Should I go and dig out the wheel of restaurants?” He asks lightly as he steps into your office properly and wraps his arms around you from behind, taking a moment to press a light kiss against the side of your neck.

You reach up and bury your fingers in his messy curls, “If you want. We both know that’s easier than trying to decide what restaurant ourselves.” You tilt your head back and beam at him, “You have helmet hair, Scorch.”

He hums, and kisses your cheek quickly, “That would be because I was wearing my helmet all day.”

“Aww, you poor thing,” You tease lightly.

“It’s fine. I spent all day watching tooka videos…and then Boss caught me and beat my ass.”

You grin at him, “Serves you right.”

“Heatless, babe.” He kisses you three times in quick succession, “Anyway, I need to shower before we go anywhere. I stink.”

“Well, I didn’t want to say anything—” You squeak when he prods your side with a strong finger.

He hugs you tightly for a moment, and then releases you, “Finish up your work, pretty girl. I won’t be long.”

“I’m almost done. Promise.” You reply, a tiny smile lifting your lips as he takes your hand in his and brings your knuckles to his lips to press a light kiss there. 

Scorch then squeezes your hand and releases you so he can go shower.

Without his armor on, you can’t hear him move through your shared apartment, though when you don’t hear the shower click on in the other room after several minutes, you turn in your chair and frown at the door. 

“Scorch?”

There’s no reply so you stand and poke your head into the hallway. From your office door, you can see him standing in front of the kitchen table, but his back is towards you. 

“I thought you were going to shower?” You ask as you approach him.

He turns his head to look at you, and there’s a frown on his face, “Who’re the flowers from?”

You blink at him, twice. “Well, I thought they were from you, but now I’m not so sure.”

“Babe, I wouldn’t buy you roses. You hate roses.”

You tilt your head, “Did I…tell you that?”

“You didn’t have to. I’m an observant guy.” Scorch picks the note up and reads it, his nose scrunching up in distaste, “Whoever wrote this doesn’t know you at all.” He announces after a moment.

“Why do you say that?” While having a secret admirer is somewhat concerning, you’re slightly more amused with how Scorch is treating it. 

“He mentioned your eyes and your lips, but didn’t once mention your amazing personality.”

A laugh slips from your lips, “Yes. Because it’s my personality that caught your attention first.”

Scorch tosses the note in the trash, and then turns so he can pull you into his arms, “Well, babe, if the note mentioned your amazing legs or ass I’d have to hunt this admirer down and beat him to death.”

“Ooh, my hero~”

He grins at you and his hands slide down your body, making you squeak, “I changed my mind.” Scorch announced, “My shower can wait an hour or so.”

You squeal when he smoothly drops his hands to your thighs and lifts you as if you weigh nothing, and you fling your arms around his neck, “Scorch!”

“Mm, love it when you say my name like that—” Scorch replies as he leans in and bites down on your neck, and you know that he’s intent on leaving a bunch of visible marks on you.

“I’m still working—” You try.

He pauses and glances at the chrono on the wall. A few moments later, the chrono chimes 5 pm, and he grins at you, “Now you’re not. Come on, sweetling. Let me remind you why you picked me.”

“Seriously, are you jealous of a flower bouquet and a card?”

“A love declaration, baby. Not just a card. And, when I’m finished with you, you won’t care about either.” Scorch says confidently, as he carries you into the bedroom and drops you on the bed.

Your secret admirer shows up on your front step several hours later, only to get sent packing when Scorch opens the door shirtless, and covered in scratch marks and hickies. 

@kimiheartblade

@yoitsjay

@liz-stat

@bb8-99

@falconfeather23435

@dukeoftheblackstar

@continous-mistakes

@0revna0

@trixie2023

@mira-loves-star-wars

@adriennelenoir

@rebell-ious

@silly-starfish

@heidnspeak

@maniacalbooper

@padawancat97

@justiceandwar98

@bekah_curlygirl

@cdblake1565

@cc--2224

@omegaprime18

@wax-birds

@msmeredithrose

@tiredbi-peach

@badbatch-bitch

@sweater-sloot

@etod

@bekahcurlygirl

@lonewolflupe

@bad4amficideas

@clones-cyare

@kiss-anon

[riddles-fiddles]

Octavinelle boys with a pregnant S/O

Synopsis: I'm dealing with terrible baby ferver so I need to get this out of my system. Headcanons to how the boys react to your pregnancy all thorough the months (part 2) Characters: Azul Ashengrotto, Floyd Leech, Jade Leech Tags: SFW, fluff, domestic fluff Notes: AFAB gender neutral reader, cw pregnancy and birth

•·.·''·.·•ˏˋ°••·.·''·.·•ˏˋ°••·.·''·.·•ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

⁀➷ Azul Ashengrotto — make sure to give him the good news while the man is safely sitting down, or else you'll see him go weak on his knees. Azul prides himself on his collected demeanor and carefully woven expressions - vital skills for his business-oriented persona - but then he is inevitably crumbling down, staring at the positive pregnancy test wide-eyed, struggling to find something clever to say. His mind is racing wild but no rational thoughts are able to fall from his lips, so all he can muster is a very low, shaky "I am… going to be a father?"

Give him some time to digest the news and you'll be met by a very gentle, tender hug from the octomer. Azul is both thrilled and terrified of this new chapter of your shared life; he longed to achieve the same kind of love his mother and step-father shared with each other, to be cared for and desired in such a selfless and devotional way, inspired by the way their love reflected upon his own upbringing. On the other hand, however, his insecuriities threatened to surface once again, doubts and ghosts from the past whispering wicked lies about his worth as a future parent. He doesn't want to fail on you and the child, as a partner or a father, and though he's equally worried about the emotional aspect of parenthood, he sticks to the importance of material goods - they're more on his comfort lane and he does it flawless to ensure your growing family can have everything of need.

(Please leash him while shopping for nursery furniture or else he'll make the baby's room a monochrome nightmare)

Azul showers you with gifts almost everyday: jewels, clothes, accessories… anything he knows you like or make any minimal comments about, being his way of showing how much he loves and cares for you, and as you progress through the stages, he takes more leaves from Mostro Lounge. He loves his work, but you are the lighthouse of his life, the one he cherishes and clings to on stormy or bright days, and the pregnancy only fueled his sense of loyalty and sincerity to you. His cafe actually comes in handy when the cravings start, and Azul isn't even an ounce ashamed to take advantage of the students working under his contracts to request them to make whatever you hunger for, though it was a surprise at first to discover about that particular characteristic of human pregnancy; he was amused nonetheless, but then he will be more careful when handing your requests. He's a very attentive partner, though it could be hard for him to express all the emotions that bubbles within his chest, sometimes too worried about being 'too emotional', scared to say something and make himself a complete fool. He kneads the stress away from your body with careful fingers and helps you out on regular tasks - shampoo your hair, put your shoes on, change clothes.

When the big day finally comes, Azul is already set and ready to go. Fret not, for the darling octo-mer has picked only the best, comfiest and quietest room for the delivery with only the best nurses on the hospital and has already set a very special menu for you to indulge in after all your hard work. But suddenly he is panicking, the danger of human birth finally sinking in as he watches the way you writhe and sob on the bed, but he can't do much but hold your hands tightly and hope for the best as the nurses help you around. When his baby is finally placed over his arms and Azul gazes upon the serene features of the tiny bean, all his terrors and doubts melt away, exhaling out a sigh of relieve and renewed joy - Azul realizes he's madly in love with you and the frail life that lays withing his grasp. He understands that there's no need for him to be perfect, either.

⁀➷ Floyd Leech — very excited from the idea of having a mini Floyd running around the house, a pocket-sized partner in crime, but to expect he would be an exceptional partner is, unfortunately, wrong. Floyd is very complex and his emotions are hard to keep controlled, and now that you are pregnant, he becomes somewhat more intense because of your own hormones and the anxiety of parenthood gripping on his neck. He does tries his best to get his moods in check, though - he doesn't want you to be stressing over him, knowing how dangerous it could be, so whenever he feels like his mood is about to change drastically, he walks away to take a breath. Things can turn into quite a ruckus if you end up experiencing those annoying changes at the same time though, as Floyd struggles to understand why you're snapping at him all of a sudden when he was just asking you something. Jade helps him understand that you're extremely hormonal and how it affects your humor and helps you keep his brother's own on check.

He's a lot more possessive and protective of you now, if not clingier. Floyd will be wrapping his arms around your figure any chance he gets, and when in public he'll always be intertwining your fingers together or holding you by the waist, getting annoyed every time someone comes asking to touch your bump - "I'm the only one who should be allowed to touch my Shrimpy's belly! Strangers have no bussiness being so close to you." Going to the doctor is always amusing because that's the moment Floyd looks the most concentrated than you can ever remember. Human pregnancy is something so new and weird for him, he's totally enthralled; what do you mean you don't lay eggs? Oh, you're just like a whale! How fun! Though he is entertained from all the information he's learning, Floyd is lowkey terrified of the birthing process (he's flabbergasted to know human babies can come out the size of a small watermelon), but he does his best to calm you down, and if you'd prefer to get a c-section, then he'll totally support you! During the preparations for the baby's room, Floyd will prefer to decorate it with ocean-themed stuff, having a blast with the assorted toys you two have bought and you're worried he might be more excited with them than your child. You know that one meme of the dad stealing the kid's tricycle? Yeah, that's him.

The delivering day comes, and Floyd is a whirlwind. He's more scared than you and it shows, no more jokes or smart remarks to try and hide his desperation, only panic, and you need to calm him down, even though he's not the one dealing with hellish contractions. Also, for the love of all Sevens, do not allow him to drive. Once you two get in the hospital, Floyd makes use of scary eel privilege to swiftly arrange a delivery room for you and suddenly almost all the nurse staff is mobilized to take care of you. Floyd can't bear the idea of leaving you alone not for even a minute, so despite the recommendations, he'll sit through hours by your side even if he's tense and stiff, holding your hand tightly. Bless the nurses who'll be helping you, because they'll have to deal with Floyd going through all the emotions known to man. Don't worry though, once he knows his shrimpy and little fry are safe and healthy, he'll turn back to the usual easy-going happy Floyd.

⁀➷ Jade Leech — Jade is surprised to receive the news. Similar to Azul, he does have a bit of knowledge about human's particularities and biology, but he wasn't expecting for you two to be compatible, especially since he's a much more 'feral' kind of merman. Nonetheless, he's happy with the prospect of growing a loving family with you... though by the progression of months, he grows the most worried. He's relieved to see the way you glow, how you seem healthy, but intrusive thoughts sometimes creep on the back of his mind. What if something happens? What if your body rejects the child because of his eel-merman genes? What if— but then you come to him squealing about how you felt the baby's first kick, and suddenly he's relaxing, his heart washed from any lingering fears. He pulls you closer and lays his head on your bump, humming quietly as he feels the baby slowly settling down.

Jade does his own research just to be sure he's doing everything right and what to expect from the significant changes you two are inevitably experiencing, insisting on working out a routine of exams and appointments, always so attentive to every little detail and medical advice. The bad thing is, he strictly follows them, which means you won't be able to snatch something unhealthy for all of your pregnancy; even if you're trying to tiptoe your way to the fridge, Jade somehow knows, he's right there to remind you about 'doctor's orders'. He's got the best of intentions, though he may look too strict. But don't fret! As soon as mama Leech gets word about your pregnancy she's coming to help! Jade actually listens to her tips, recognizing her very valuable experience on the matter and trusting mama knows best. At least you get to eat some cheat food here and there - Jade's shocked and extremely entertained to be taught that humans believe that a baby could be born looking like a certain kind of food if the mother doesn't eat whatever she's craving, and so he indulges you into whatever you ask him to cook. Similar to Floyd, Jade grows more possessive of you, especially when out in public. He dislikes the attention your bump attracts, cautious of ill-intentioned people, so when your belly has grown to it's full glory, Jade gives curious passerbys a piercing cold look while you're not aware, and then carries on to grocery shopping, whispering sweet praises to your ear like the entire mall isn't turning heels as fast as possible the moment they land their eyes on you both.

When the baby's due date comes, Jade is the ever collected and relying gentleman you need. Since he's such a good observer and has kept track of every little thing during your pregnancy - mood swings, body changes, smell and heat - he already has a suspicion you're about to go into labour, so he has prepared everything you might need even before you can shout about your water breaking. It's so endearing how he already looks like a dad - diligently guiding you through the hospital halls, big maternity bags hanging on his shoulders as he coos quietly about how everything is going to be ok, how you're going to be a great parent and how much he loves you. If you ask him to stay with you on the delivery room, he'll gladly let you squeeze his hand into oblivion and look unaffected, watching as you work for hours on end with a ressuring smile and the most sincere devotion on his eyes, totally enthralled by your resilience.

[drpeppertummy]

following a lengthy academic discussion about the potential of delivery scenarios

[hunger, light stuffing]

"Thank you, have a good one."

"You too." Max's belly rumbled audibly, and the delivery girl flashed him an amused smile. "Enjoy."

He bumped the door shut with his hip and brought the bags to the kitchen table, then went to retrieve the plates while Marsha started rummaging through the boxes. He was absolutely starving. The delivery had taken almost an hour, and all Max could think about was that trusty gluten free grilled chicken salad from the trio's favorite local restaurant. He'd been thinking about it all day, as a matter of fact. Salads weren't normally his go-to, but this place made a good one, and their chicken was to die for. They were more well-known for their fried chicken, but the famously crispy breading was out of his diet. The grilled was just as good, though, as far as he was concerned. His mouth watered just at the thought of it. He pulled three plates from the cabinet and turned to see Marsha looking concerned over the food, brow furrowed.

"What'd you get again, Stringbean?"

"Salad."

"Well, I'm not seeing any salad," she said reluctantly. "Just a whole lot of pasta." Max's heart sank.

"I'll call 'em back," said Alfie, leaving the kitchen.

"Thanks, Alf," he sighed quietly.

"I'm sorry, Stringbean," said Marsha, giving him a pat on the shoulder. "I'm sure they'll send somebody out with the right order."

"I just hope they send 'em sometime today," he said with a halfhearted chuckle. "I guess it's a good thing Junie's staying over at Ross' place tonight." Junie had inherited the gift of celiac disease from her father, and had she been home tonight, she just might have been out of a meal as well, but Max could at least take some comfort in knowing his daughter would be well taken care of at her friend's house.

"They said they'll send the salad over right away," said Alfie, leaning in the doorway. "We'll wait for you. Hopefully it won't take too long, right? I mean, it's lettuce."

"No, don't wait," Max insisted, waving his hand. "Eat while it's hot. You know it's never gonna be as good."

"What, leave you standing around all pitiful like a starved puppy while we eat?" Marsha gave him a playful squeeze. "We could never do that to our poor old Stringbean. Well, maybe Alfie could. I wouldn't." Alfie shot her a look of mock annoyance.

"Seriously, don't wait for me. Who knows how long it'll take. I'll be fine. Promise. I won't even stare at you." Max leaned down to give her a peck on the cheek and retreated to the living room, doing the same to Alfie as he passed by him. He dropped back onto the couch with a sigh. His stomach growled impatiently, tensing up as a deep, longing pang twisted through it. Suddenly, he felt a weight beside him and a hand on his belly, and he turned to see Marsha at his side once again.

"Alfie's putting the pasta in the oven to keep it warm," she said, holding a finger to his mouth to shut him up before he could even begin to protest. "We're not eating without you. We'll be fine, believe me. Alfie's been snackin' all afternoon."

"Yeah? How about you?"

"I had a late lunch," she assured him. "I mean, I could certainly eat, but another half hour isn't gonna kill me."

"Might kill me," he chuckled, and she gave his tummy a gentle rub. His stomach felt hollow under her hand, and she could feel the vibration as another aching growl buzzed through it.

"Poor baby." She laid her head on his shoulder, and he draped his arm over hers. Alfie soon joined them and flopped unceremoniously onto the couch beside Max, giving his partners a good jolt as he landed.

"Now we wait," he declared, laying down and resting his head on Max's lap. Marsha ruffled his hair.

"You could be eating right now," said Max.

"Don't remind me. No man left behind," said Alfie, reaching up to give him a pat on the cheek. Max rolled his eyes.

"Well, I appreciate it. We can all sit here and suffer together like a family." Max wrapped his arms around his partners and gave them a fond squeeze.

It didn't take nearly as long for Max's salad to arrive as the original order had, but it still felt like ages to his empty stomach. Unlike Marsha, he'd had a pretty early lunch, and unlike Alfie, he hadn't had any snacks to tide him over. He'd already been starving when the first delivery girl came, and by the time the second arrived, he felt about ready to keel over, his aching tummy twisting up angrily as it begged for something to eat. Finally, though, about half an hour later, they were sitting together at the table, beyond eager to dig in. Max's belly rumbled impatiently at the smell of the chicken as he opened up his salad. It was up there with his newborn children on the list of the most beautiful things he'd ever seen, the golden-seared chicken still steaming upon the bed of fresh, crisp lettuce, decorated with cucumbers and tomatoes and olives, tortilla strips in place of croutons, crumbles of feta, juicy pepperoncini, a variety of delicious little additives that made for a filling, flavorful meal.

"Worth the wait?" Alfie asked through a mouthful of ziti. Max nodded, a look of blissful relief on his face as he savored the first few bites. His stomach grumbled eagerly as it took in its long-awaited dinner, the ache finally easing up with each bite.

Ordinarily, Max would likely have only eaten about half of the salad, saving the rest for the next day. Tonight, he finished the whole thing. It wasn't a massive salad, easily a single serving for most people, but it was certainly big for him, and by the time he finished his belly felt comfortably stuffed, just teetering on the edge of too full, pushing out snugly against the waist of his pants. He leaned back in his seat with a hand on his tummy, feeling thoroughly satisfied.

"Hey, since when do you clean your whole plate?" Marsha teased, reaching out to give his full belly a friendly pat.

"I'm compensating." He stifled a soft burp and remained still in his seat, feeling sleepy and content and wanting to give his stomach time to settle before straightening up the kitchen. Right now was the best he'd felt all day, and he didn't want to screw it up by upsetting his belly right away.

"Well, I'm glad you enjoyed it," she said with a smile, giving his tummy a gentle rub.

[incorrectbatfam]

Can Bruce read his gremlins a bedtime story?

Once upon a time—

Ugh, no. Go back and try again.

Jason, let the man read.

Not when it sounds like that. It's Sleeping Beauty. A fucking five-year-old can do it.

Alright, starting over. Once upon a time, there lived a princess in a castle.

Where else would she live?

I get what you're saying. Where was I? Right. When she was born—

Can we go back for a second? What kind of castle are we talking about?

Not again.

A good story has detail, Cass. Now give me the layout. Is it more mid-century or a little earlier? What fortifications do they have? Do the floor plans allow for guards to covertly sneak around? Are they prioritizing enemy intimidation or civilian—

Mid-to-late-century, reinforced walls with hidden cannons and watchtowers, they have underground tunnels, and civilian trust because their only enemy is Maleficent. As I was saying—

What's their contingency plan?

Tim!

The story is the contingency plan, you wet sack of hamburger meat.

Wow, spoiler alert.

Someone called?

I thought you went home?

And miss this trainwreck? As if. Too bad Tumblr doesn't have more colors because Duke would love this.

Huh?

It's a fourth wall thing. Don't worry, I've been working on my impression of him.

Let's see it.

Please don't.

"My name is Duke. I cry at Lord of the Rings."

In his defense, Frodo and Sam have a beautiful friendship.

Back to the story. When she was born, her parents threw a grand jubilee where all the kingdom and its fairies was invited. The fairies all arrived with presents—

You think they would have a baby shower before the baby is born, right? What, the first few days they're just going without diapers?

This was the Middle Ages. They believed in leeching the humors out for a common cold.

Also, you can throw showers after the kid arrives. Our own dad did it.

At least you weren't the guinea pig. Try explaining to a bunch of important rich people who brought gifts that actually, there is no baby, it's me and I don't need diapers or footie pajamas.

Says the guy wearing a Kid Flash onesie.

Says the one in a Superboy shirt and conspiracy theory pants. Pick a side.

I have two hands and I'm not ashamed.

Okay, there's a lot to unpack there—

Jason married Roy!

What?!?

It's for tax benefits. Not all of us can own a multi-billion-dollar corporation.

Your name's on the will.

Yeah but I'm never gonna get it 'cause Bruce isn't gonna die long enough for me to use it.

What do you mean?

He's talking about the retcons. You should ask Duke, he can see into other dimensions.

Ooh.

Ahem, I believe Father was telling us a story. I speed-read it so I know they all die at the end, but I'd like to hear your delivery.

Damian, you're reading this morning's obituaries.

Same thing.

Truelove'skissbrokethespellandtheylivedhappilyeveraftertheend. Terrible job everyone, now lights out.

[sk1bidi-n1k0-e4ts-people]

Not the end Dad!Tony stark x daughter!reader

Summary: after the end game, you and your father have some bonding time <3

Warnings: slight endgame spoilers but thats really it 🙂

A/N: in this particular fic, tony did not die cause my heart 😭 steve didn't go back in time for Peggy that was dumb. And Carol did successfully take the stones from thanos and snapped 👏

+•°+*°•++•°+*°•++•°+*°•++•°+*°•+

After the long battle between Thanos and the avengers, you and your father went home. You never thought that the tony stark would settle down and live the quiet life. But he did.

when you arrived at this new home, you walked inside and morgan immediately ran toward you. Wrapping you in a tight hug, you were aware that morgan was your new little sister given that tony had told you while on the battlefield.

You had always dreamed of having a younger sister, you could teach her how to be all sassy like you.

As a kid, you used to make tony pretend to be pregnant and in the delivery room. And when the "baby" which was just one of your baby dolls, was born you would name it something like daisy or kitty.

A few moments later, tony walked into the kitchen and made you and him a cup of hot cocoa.

You were sitting on the couch waiting for him, you had turned on a movie that you and him loved to watch when you were little.

He sat down next to you, handing you the drink he had just prepared for you. You leaned into him and he wrapped an arm around you, kissing the top of your head, he had missed stark movie nights, he had missed you.

You rested your head on his shoulder.

"Alright fill me in."

"Mmm" tony hummed looking down at you.

"Tell me about the last five years" you said looking up at him, he turned his head back in the direction of the tv and began to tell you all about the years he spent without you

He told you he always threw you a birthday party, he kept your room the same as it was, every piece of furniture in the same spot. and he said that all the presents were in your closet. and that he had photographs of you all around the house, and that he would show them to morgan and tell her all about you. He also said that she would ask him when she would be able to meet you, and he always responded with "soon". Morgan loved to hear about you, she thought you were the coolest person in the galaxy, even cooler then tony, she always asked for tony to tell her a story about you at bedtime. He kept going on and on, till Morgan walked into the room, immediately running toward you once again.

You picked her up and held her to you. You leaned to lay on your side, your back to the tv, and tony did as well.

You held morgan to your chest just like tony used to hold you when you were little, tony wrapped his arms around both of you. Tony was facing the tv and rested his head on yours. Your movie playing softly In the background.

You all soon fell asleep together ❤️

+•°+*°•+

EXTRA: when you woke up, you carefully took morgan off of your chest, placing her in tonys arms. You quietly creeped into your bedroom, which looked the same, you slowly walked toward your closet and opened it. You saw dozens of wrapped gifts with notes on top. When you read the notes, each one of them ended with "i miss you kiddo, i really wish you were here" you definitely cried a little bit that day.

Tags

@animealways // @white-wolf-buckaroo // @tonystark-au // @yummyangy // @zebralover //

[sweetiesicheng]

woozi - royalty

word count : 1,088

oh hey it’s been awhile

-

"i'll be back soon!" you announced as you left your home.

you lived in a large village, but your home was close to the outskirts of town. there was a river nearby and that was where you washed clothes and sheets. you walked over with a bag in hand and made it to the riverbank after a few minutes.

once you made it to your usual spot, you started washing everything you had brought with you.

as you cleaned, you started to hear someone singing, which made you look up. you looked around and noticed someone walking on the other side of the river, but you didn't mind them and continued washing everything.

"excuse me?"

you looked up and noticed the person no longer walking. he was staring at you with his hands in his pockets.

"hello," you greeted him with a smile.

"do you live around here?" he asked, seemingly curious.

"my family runs the tailor shop nearby. i'm sure you've seen it," you replied to him and looked down again.

"actually...i haven't," he mentioned. you looked back at him.

"are you new to town?" you asked him.

"i live in the center of the kingdom. i don't come out often," he mentioned. "just venturing out."

you smiled and looked down again, "the center. is it nice over there?" you asked.

"you've never been?" he immediately asked you.

"most of us around here stay here unless if it's to make deliveries. people traveling in usually go to the harbors, so we don't attract much attention," you shortly explained to him and put one of the sheets you had into a bucket. "i'll be off now," you mentioned, "nice to meet you."

"you as well."

—

"did you hear? the king announced that they'll be looking for someone to marry the prince."

"to who would the prince marry? the neighboring towns don't have any heirs to marry off yet."

"oh! maybe he's marrying a commoner."

"i highly doubt it. he'll probably marry someone rich.”

“the prince is so talented, he would need someone with the same level of talent."

you listened to people talk as you cleaned outside of the store. there was always gossip littering the town, and sometimes it was very interesting to listen to. after sweeping, you set up a sign and headed back inside to look at who was picking up orders today.

"y/n, we'll be back tonight," your mother said to you. they were picking up new materials that came from overseas from one of the towns with harbors.

"make sure to lock up tonight," your father instructed you.

"i will. travel safely!" you replied to them as they left.

after a bit, a few customers came in and you helped them before another worker arrived and took over for you.

"excuse me?"

you looked up and saw the man you had seen a few days prior.

"oh, hello again," you greeted. "what can i help you with?"

he placed down a jacket on the counter. you immediately noticed how nice the jacket was but also noticed a tear on one of the sleeves.

"do you think you could fix this?" he asked, lifting up the portion to show you the tear. "normally, this would be thrown out, but i like this jacket," he mentioned.

"this looks very expensive. would you like me to use expensive materials?" you said while examining it.

"i’ll be happy with whatever will stop it from tearing again," he replied. you nodded.

"we can have this ready for you the day after next," you said to him and gently took the jacket from him. "you must have a lot of money to afford something this beautiful," you said to him while looking at the jacket. you gently folded it and put it in a basket that was on a shelf.

"i'm grateful that i was gifted it," he replied. "should i make a payment now?"

"you can pay when it's done. i need to look for materials first," you answered. "what's your name?"

"jihoon. lee jihoon."

"jihoon? nice to meet you, i'm y/n."

—

after finding suitable materials, you finished working on the jacket that jihoon had brought to you. you were surprised that your parents let you work on such an expensive piece, but it meant more practice with expensive materials for you.

as you were about to open the store for the day, you heard the front door open. you stopped walking and saw jihoon walk in, closing the door behind him.

"oh, good morning!" you greeted him with a smile, "you're here early."

he grinned, "kind of in a rush," he mentioned.

"then let me get your jacket," you said to him and turned around. you walked behind the counter and grabbed the jacket from its spot. you placed it on the counter and noticed that jihoon had walked up to the counter. "does it look fine?" you asked as he started to examine it.

"i...i can't notice anything wrong," he replied after a few seconds. "wow."

you smiled from his response, "just doing my job. i'm glad you don't notice anything off."

jihoon placed a small cloth pouch onto the counter, and you could hear coins clashing together. "here, take this," he instructed you and opened the pouch. you noticed a bunch of coins in there, making you panic.

"what? no! this is way too much, even if i used more expensive materials," you said to him and pushed the pouch closer to him.

he shook his head at you. "please, just take it.”

"but i can't," you said to him. just then, the door opened and someone peeked their head inside. "oh, hello," you awkwardly greeted.

"uh...your highness, we need to leave. now," the person spoke before closing the door again.

you raised an eyebrow in confusion and looked at jihoon.

"did he just—"

jihoon picked his jacket up from the counter and put it on. it fit him perfectly.

"don't let anyone else know," he instructed. "when we first spoke, it was nice not being noticed," he said to you and headed to the door.

"are you the prince?" you asked him.

jihoon looked back at you and smiled at you. he brought his finger to his lips before chuckling and opening the door. "have a lovely day, y/n," he said before leaving, closing the door behind him.

you stood there with a smile and in disbelief at the information you just learned. "have a lovely day, jihoon."

[book--brackets]

Summaries under the cut

Lisel & Po by Lauren Oliver

Liesl lives in a tiny attic bedroom, locked away by her cruel stepmother. Her only friends are the shadows and the mice,until one night a ghost appears from the darkness. It is Po, who comes from the Other Side. Both Liesl and Po are lonely, but together they are less alone.

That same night, an alchemist's apprentice, Will, bungles an important delivery. He accidentally switches a box containing the most powerful magic in the world with one containing something decidedly less remarkable.

Will's mistake has tremendous consequences for Liesl and Po, and it draws the three of them together on an extraordinary journey.

Red Planet by Robert A. Heinlein

Jim Marlow and his strange-looking Martian friend Willis were allowed to travel only so far. But one day Willis unwittingly tuned into a treacherous plot that threatened all the colonists on Mars, and it set Jim off on a terrfying adventure that could save--or destroy--them all!

The Secret Seven by Enid Blyton

It's their very first adventure and the Secret Seven super-sleuths are already on the trail of a mystery! The gang are dressed in disguise, following a lead to a spooky old house in the snow...

Adam of the Road by Elizabeth Janet Gray

"A road's a kind of holy thing," said Roger the Minstrel to his son, Adam. "That's why it's a good work to keep a road in repair, like giving alms to the poor or tending the sick. It's open to the sun and wind and rain. It brings all kinds of people and all parts of England together. And it's home to a minstrel, even though he may happen to be sleeping in a castle."

And Adam, though only eleven, was to remember his father's words when his beloved dog, Nick, was stolen and Roger had disappeared and he found himself traveling alone along these same great roads, searching the fairs and market towns for his father and his dog.

The Squire's Tales by Gerald Morris

Life for the young orphan Terence has been peaceful, living with Trevisant, the old Hermit in a quiet, isolated wood.

That is, until the day a strange green sprite leads him to Gawain, King Arthur's nephew, who is on his way to Camelot hoping to be knighted. Trevisant can see the future and knows that Terence must leave to serve as Gawain's squire. From that moment on, Terence's life is filled with heart-stopping adventure as he helps damsels-in-distress, fights battles with devious men, and protects King Arthur from his many enemies.

Along the way, Terence is amazed at his skills and new-found magical abilities. Were these a gift from his unknown parents? As Gawain continues his quest for knighthood, Terence searches for answers to the riddles in his own past.

The Seventh Tower by Garth Nix

Tal has lived his whole life in darkness. He has never left his home, a mysterious castle of seven towers. He does not see the threat that will tear apart his family and his world. But Tal cannot stay safe forever. When danger strikes, he must desperately climb the Red Tower to steal a Sunstone. He reaches the top... ...and then he falls into a strange and unknown world of warriors, ice ships, and hidden magic. There Tal makes an enemy who will save his life and holds the key to his future.

The Children of Green Knowe by Lucy M. Boston

There are three children: Toby, who rides the majestic horse Feste; his mischievous little sister, Linnet; and their brother, Alexander, who plays the flute. The children warmly welcome Tolly to Green Knowe... even though they've been dead for centuries.

But that's how everything is at Green Knowe. The ancient manor hides as many stories as it does dusty old rooms.

And the master of the house is great-grandmother Oldknow, whose storytelling mixes present and past with the oldest magic in the world.

Sweet Valley High by Francine Pascal

Elizabeth and Jessica Wakefield are identical twins at Sweet Valley High. They're both popular, smart, and gorgeous, but that's where the similarity ends. Elizabeth is friendly, outgoing, and sincere—nothing like her snobbish and conniving twin. Jessica gets what she wants—at school, with friends, and especially with boys.

This time, Jessica has set her sights on Todd Wilkins, the handsome star of the basketball team—the one boy that Elizabeth really likes. Elizabeth doesn't want to lose him, but what Jessica wants, Jessica usually gets ... even if it ends up hurting her sister.

City Spies by James Ponti

Sara Martinez is a hacker. She recently broke into the New York City foster care system to expose her foster parents as cheats and lawbreakers. However, instead of being hailed as a hero, Sara finds herself facing years in a juvenile detention facility and banned from using computers for the same stretch of time. Enter Mother, a British spy who not only gets Sara released from jail but also offers her a chance to make a home for herself within a secret MI6 agency.

Operating out of a base in Scotland, the City Spies are five kids from various parts of the world. When they’re not attending the local boarding school, they’re honing their unique skills, such as sleight of hand, breaking and entering, observation, and explosives. All of these allow them to go places in the world of espionage where adults can’t.

Before she knows what she’s doing, Sarah is heading to Paris for an international youth summit, hacking into a rival school’s computer to prevent them from winning a million euros, dangling thirty feet off the side of a building, and trying to stop a villain…all while navigating the complex dynamics of her new team.

No one said saving the world was easy…

Carrie's War by Nina Bawden

Albert, Carrie and young Nick are war-time evacuees whose lives get so tangled up with the people they've come to live among that the war and their real families seem to belong to another world. Carrie and Nick are billeted in Wales with old Mr Evans, who is so mean and cold, and his timid mouse of a sister, Lou, who suddenly starts having secrets.

Their friend Albert is luckier, living in Druid's Bottom with warm-hearted Hepzibah Green and the strange Mister Johnny, who can talk to animals but not to human beings. Carrie and Nick visit him there whenever they can for Hepzibah makes life exciting and enticing with her stories and delicious cooking. Gradually they begin to feel more at ease in their war-time home, but then, in trying to heal the rift between Mr Evans and his estranged sister, and save Druid's Bottom, Carrie does a terrible thing which is to haunt her for years to come.

[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?

[gatheringfiki]

The following ficlet was written by @lazysaturdayonthebeach based on this photoset.

Fili/Kili, T

You might also be able to read this story on AO3.

If you’ve enjoyed this story, please leave a comment either in replies or on AO3.

This work is a sequel to Yule Father and the Thirteen Dwarves.

The List

—

Balin was sick.  He was very sick.  He was so sick that Odin had to split up his duties amongst the other dwarves.  There was nothing to be done, he had Man Flu.

Balin compiled and maintained Jólfadr’s library of records.  Each dwarf kept their own notes for planning and emergencies, but the official chronicles were organized and bound by Balin for reference.  Dwalin’s atrocious handwriting was a problem, but Thorin had very nice handwriting so they helped each other.  Bifur kept careful records to know how much wood he and Bofur had to cut for themselves and Oin, so that was covered.  Ori’s notes on the materials he and Dori used were passed on to Gloin for ordering from the elves.  Bombur did the same with his ingredient lists.  And Gloin knew every penny spent on everything. 

This close to Yule, however, Balin’s illness presented two problems.  The first was that Balin would have to choose between having several messy sections of his records or working late for many nights during Mörsugur to get caught up.  That was really only his dilemma.  The second was more dramatic.  Someone needed to devote many hours to The List.  And who had the most free time?  Fili and Kili.

Odin approved the plan immediately.  One day Fili would replace him as Jólfadr.  He had centuries to learn and would have a different name, but his mission would be the same.  Part of his success would be because Fili came as part of a pair with Kili.  Fili would be more light and festive and jolly than his current incarnation.  Kili would be his dark partner, dividing and sharing the responsibilities to support each other.  Still, their developing decision-making process would probably keep Odin laughing at inappropriate times for many, many years.  

“Dude, let’s put Dwalin on the naughty list. He’ll be so fucking mad.”

“Oh! Sneaks out of the house, naughty list.”

“Kili you do that all the time.”

They were currently arguing about whether to use Balin’s definition of naughty or what they got away with.  They would be the ones to know that line best.

Eventually, they created a process where Fili held and annotated The List while Kili spun the magic to focus on the children and their progress.  Someone who was naughty but made a sincere effort to be better would end up on the nice list.  But someone who acted nice in public but did mean things in private would end up on the naughty list.  Fili thought that, to have hope, people needed to know their efforts were what counted, not some unattainable level of perfection.

And so they continued throughout the rest of Ýlir, working diligently right up until the eve of Yule.

Fili listed each child, in delivery order, in his neat and distinctive runes.  He presented The List to Odin just in time for packing the sleigh to begin.  Jólfadr was so pleased that he declared the task to be Fili’s, and thus Kili’s, responsibility from then on.

Sleipnir was long healed by this time and had returned to pulling the sleigh, but Fili and Kili were very fond of the reindeer and kept them with great love and care.  And Balin was recovered enough to direct the packing process.  As always, departure was set for moonrise.  When Jólfadr and Sleipnir raced through the night delivering gifts to everyone marked nice and coal to those marked naughty (which was still a gift for many families), the dwarves feasted.  Tomorrow they would start the work for next year.

[rollinouttahere-writes]

So like when Lizard is an adult and has a kid with Koby will Crocodile accept the kid but completely and utterly act like Koby is non existent and his daughter just asexually had a baby?

Crocodile is that in law that fawns over their child and grandchildren but HATES the person they're married to. He never comes around to liking Koby, but he begrudgingly acknowledges that getting rid of him now would harm Lizard so he gets to live another day.

By the time Lizard and Koby are old enough to be starting a family, Lizard and Crocodile's relationship will be pretty solid. They're both past the point of angsting by themselves and have talked things out enough to have a normal and happy father-daughter relationship at least as normal as it can be for them

Pregnancy talk below here

Crocodile is going to be praying that they only adopt. While he never much cared about the fact that Lizard's mother, Akila, died from birth complications before, he really does now. It doesn't matter if every doctor on the planet tells him that such a thing isn't hereditary, he's terrified of his daughter suffering the same fate.

But let's say that she does take that route

Crocodile feels like he's on the verge of having a stroke for the entire duration of the pregnancy. He's also being weirdly civil towards Koby, at least when Lizard is in the room. Koby mistakes this for a bonding opportunity only to get humbled violently when Crocodile tells him that he's only playing nice to avoid stressing Lizard. If she doesn't make it he's killing Koby and taking the baby.

Koby doesn't broach the topic again.

Fortunately, Crocodile does knows what to expect during a pregnancy both from when Akila was still around, and also his own with Luffy. Things like weird cravings, morning sickness, and the general discomfort of the process come naturally to him and he's eager to step up to the plate while shoving Koby off of it

All of a sudden he "just so happened" to relocate nearby and is basically a constant presence. Lizard thinks it's a bit much, but she also understands why he's worried so she doesn't call him out. She's a little concerned herself if she's being honest.

The birth is stressful. Only the best of the best doctors are allowed to aid in the delivery and it is made known that they won't be leaving here alive if Lizard doesn't. Crocodile is so anxious that he's pacing constantly and smoking three cigars at once but gets snippy if anyone comments on it.

Everything does go well, and Lizard has to tell Crocodile to wait his damn turn to hold the baby when he tries to hold them before Koby even gets a chance to.

He already knew he was going to spoil the hell out of his grandchild, holding them only cements it further. The love is instant and intense. Not quite as much as it was for Lizard when he held her, but a very close second. And of course, he's already contemplating which of his bananawani he should breed to get the best possible offspring to gift to his beloved grandchild.

[strawberry-lemonade-kisses]

Write For Me

Notes - New Manga ending, Sanemi is a loser lmao

The doorbell chimed with the arrival of a new customer, another person looking for help in a world that has a neverending supply of it. You continued your task, leaving the customer to your father who ran the small mail house. It was mainly local delivery, run by you and your siblings but you occasionally wrote letters and even involved yourselves with the local school to help teach writing. After the battle that had taken place 2 towns over there were plenty of people displaced and many who didn’t know how to read or write. You had heard of the rumored demon slayer corps but considered it a tale of fiction, it was not.

“Y/N, can you help this young man with a letter, I have to pick up a letter from the Naraga house. Thank you” Peaking into the back your father gave a quick salute before disappearing again. You sighed, putting down the order form and going to the front where you had a small setup for writing. A man was already sitting at the table, his white hair sticking in every direction, he looked like a porcupine from the back and the thought had you stifling a laugh, trying not to embarrass yourself.

“Hello, I’m Y/N, I’ll be writing for you today, have you had a letter written from us before?” You were speaking before even getting a look at his face, rounding the table to sit across from him. The shock on his face was evident as wide violet eyes stared at your elegant form seated across from him.

“um” He looked around “Yuuta writes my letters, who are you?” he questioned a rasp in his voice, like he hadn’t spoken in days.

“I’m Y/N… Yiuta is running an early delivery this week and Tsuchiro is on his honeymoon so I’m in the shop this week. Is this going to the same recipient we have listed? Genya Shinazuawa?” he gave a stiff nod, lips pursed like he was thinking but wanted to say something.

“He’s my brother” You nodded as he continued to stare, watching as you organized yourself, pulling out paper and making sure you had ink, envelopes, and wax on hand.

“is this going to the Butterfly estate or the Himejima household? We have two addresses” you asked, looking over the form for the man in front of you ‘Sanemi Shinazugawa’ written in big bold letters, an exaggerated grumpy face written next to it.

“Butterfly estate, can you write my name on the back of the envelope?” You looked up at his request.

“Yuuta has it noted you request that I will make sure it happens. So what would you like me to write?” Your smile had his heart feeling like it was going to explode and it scared him, leaving him anxious as you went to work, writing everything he said with such precision he would have asked if you were a demon had he not been involved with their downfall. What witchcraft did you possess to have him so captivated. How could Yuuta, The obnoxious letter writer who made a joke of each of his scars, not knowing the weight his words carried when Sanemi left the store. How could he have a sister as beautiful as you, as perfect for him? The sun had dropped a piece of itself and that was you, wrapped in silk and seated across from him, brows furrowed as you sealed the letter he was sending to his annoying brother, stuck in the hospital while he healed.

“Shall I have the response forwarded to you or would you like us to hold it?” You had finally looked back up, the windflower pin in your hair glimmering as the sun caught it, holding tight to the gift.

“Um, he usually sends it through a crow, his mom writes his letters while he heals. She’s there with her husband and Muichiro.” You nodded like you knew what he was talking about, the blank look and half-baked smile making him realize he needed to leave and never talk to you again, he has shamed himself by not keeping his mouth shut.

“The Estate receives a lot of letters, they have worked hard since the large battle a few months ago, I wish everyone a speedy and safe recovery.” You sat back, smiling so large he felt like shielding is eyes and screaming, it was too much.

“Thank you”

“Is there anything else I can write?” he shook his head, standing so quick the chair fell back, causing him to panic.

“I- this is” He was rushing to pick up the chair, fingers gripping the edge of the chair as he turned to you, bowing low in his green trousers, the grey of his shirt brushing the tabletop. “I thank you for your help” He turned on his heel and marched out, the heel of his shoes clicking with each step on the wooden floors. What a strange man Sanemi Shinazugawa was.

[theladybrownstarot]

EXCHANGE-READINGS

~𝓛𝓐𝓓𝓨𝓑𝓡𝓞𝓦𝓝𝓢𝓣𝓐𝓡𝓞𝓣 ~

|||Sαɳαƚαɳ Iɳ Bʅσσԃ|Rҽαԃҽɾ Bყ Bιɾƚԋ|||

🐚 🍀||🕯Jαι Sԋɾҽҽ Hαɾι Bσʅ🕯|| 🍀🐚

~🕯|Hey,call me brown|🕯~

🍃🇸​🇦​🇳​🇦​🇹​🇦​🇳​🇮​-🇷​🇪​🇦​🇩​🇪​🇷🍃

🪷 INTRODUCTION :-

🍃Namaste 🙏🏼 I'm brown , An intutive tarot card reader and psychic who has helped a lot of people around by abilities and gifts by supreme divine father and mother .

🍃It's been a year since I started tarot and months I made my own blog both in 2023.

🍃 Let's dive in ourselves by practicing more purely.

🪷🐚🍀Kindly adhere to the rules- regulations :-

(1) Monthly exchange reading - 5 slots only .

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A recent exchange Feedback not months old with the person you exchanged. (Through Screen shots in dm) and (a fresh one). [OPTIONAL]

(3) No scam toleration, direct exposure even if the scammer gave me the reading back.

(4) Exchange Delivery Timeline[For both of us]:-

(4.1) Usual Duration - 7 days/1 week

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[ For 4.2 : The reader must provide a reason for not completing the reading, and if urgent issues aren't resolved within urgent duration timeline another 10 days shall be granted, further delays could lead to scam suspicion and exposure for same.]

(5) Code Condunct of Readings :-

(5.1) 1 question at a time to be asked .

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(5.3) Right to deny : For more readings for both of us.

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[For both of us]

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(8.5) celebrity

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🐚🪷 NOTE :

The following rules are made after several reading's experiences , resulted in facilitating comfortable rules for both readers .

Any criticism regarding rules won't be acknowledged .

Kindly follow the rules carefully.

🐚REQUIREMENTS🐚

(1) You need like and reblog this exchange post.[If you approach me].

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(7) kindly leave this emoji - ✔️ with your question in my D.M for exchange as a proof check that you read all the rules properly.

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The requirement section is mandatory hence agreeing for a reading without acknowledging the rules for sharing requirements will lead me to decline the exchange with you .

STATUS : CLOSED