#he was just out at the store that’s all

[hanasnx]

P-LINKS! — clark kent.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NOTES: must be logged in to twitter on browser/app to view these. otherwise it’ll say link not found | important note: mostly white people in these links i think. i’m still new to this & don’t follow a lot of accs, if you could rec me your fave poc main accs i’d be very grateful. WARNINGS: twitter porn nsfw links ノ hetero porn ノ fem reader ノ unprotected sex ノ size kink ノ objectification ノ vaginal fingering ノ gagging ノ oral ノ titty sucking ノ one vid of body worship that features feet ノ impact play ノ handjob ノ exhibitionism.

◈ making you feel safe and holding you down when he plays with that pretty pussy

◈ red kryptonite!clark tells you to keep still and then makes you gag on purpose

◈ minutes after you both agree you have to be quieter this time

◈ making a toy out of you

◈ sucking on your tits til you can’t take it anymore

◈ red kryptonite!clark making sure you remember not to run away from his apartment

◈ catching him in a rare mood when you can take dirty pics together

◈ sub!clark struggling to stay still

◈ red kryptonite!clark fucks your little mouth like a pussy because he wants to see how messy you’re willing to get for him

◈ you don’t know how to shut up when you’re close to cumming on just his cock

◈ how he fucks after you taught him you like it rough

◈ one of your fave pics on your camera roll, took him forever to agree to it

◈ slow saturday morning turns into keeping each other close—real close

◈ doesn’t matter if you chewed him out an hour ago for some argument you don’t even remember, you end up like this anyway

◈ he tells you he doesn’t wanna hurt you but still fucks you into the shape of his dick

◈ fuckboy!clark makes you fall in love just by holding your eye contact balls deep

◈ riding sub!clark like you mean it

◈ lifting you from your waist or ass, it doesn’t matter, you’re weightless to him

◈ what he sounds like kissing your whole body making you feel like royalty

◈ you wanna be the one to put in all the work this time, but he just can’t keep his hands to himself

◈ teasing poor sub!clark with a single finger

◈ the first time he’s gotta go down to the corner store for a plan b

◈ if there’s no privacy in the house, his truck works just fine

◈ ripping your panties clean in half to get at that pussy

@HANASNX 2024 | do not copy, plagiarize, or steal.

[verxca]

Imagine Jason being so soft and sweet and clingy with you that when his siblings see him in a store with you they have to do a double take. It would be extra funny if his family didn't know about you yet xD

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ ୨ ♡ ୧ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ [ imagine #04 ]

[ j. todd ft d. grayson ] ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆ ୨ ♡ ୧ ⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

── . ✦ in which dick spots something very unusual from his brother at the grocery store.

Late night grocery trips were preferable to Dick for two primary reasons; One, being as the stores were usually less busy, meaning less people would spot him. And two, crime was typically preformed at night here in Gotham, meaning he could keep an extra eye out. It was like killing three birds with one stone!

Turning the corner, Dick hummed a random tune to himself upon entering another produce isle. He was just here to pick up some cereal and butter, nothing too important. As he leaned down to grab what he needed, a friendly couple entered the isle from the other side— giggling and holding hands.

Not wanting to seem nosy or rude, he didn’t stare, still scanning to find the brand he liked.

“Nope- All they do is knock shit over, claw your back, and piss all over the fucking furniture.” The guys voice from across the aisle sounded familiar, a little too familiar— almost like his brother Jason’s. But he ruled that one out quickly… It was obvious that the dude and Jay acted completely different. Though, the mysterious guy did sound like one of his old friends from high school. Maybe it was him— Damn, how long had it been? What a coincidence to see him here!

Dick looked up— fully expecting to run into an old friend. Yet, the realization of his mistake came crashing down like a punch to the gut as the boyfriend moved his face into view, eyes still glued down to his girl. Oh, it was Jason! What was he doing here at this hour? Dick chuckled, looking back down before snapping his neck up for maybe the fourth time.

Wait— that was Jason?

“But, like- Same for dogs! You have to walk them twenty times a week, and pick up their shit too. No animals are easy to care for, but cats are definitely easier!” You argued with your boyfriend, squeezing his hand to try and enforce your point.

You two had been dating for a good couple months now, but still, Jay was ever so reluctant to get an animal! Every time you brought it up, he’d make the same five points. “Kay- That’s fair, babe, but-”

Jay teased once more, laughing as you tried to protest. Fuck, was it ever cute when you got all defensive like that. It was definitely Jason’s guilty pleasure, and he couldn’t help but tease you when the opportunity was in front of him— practically begging to be taken. Jay quickly leaned down for quick kiss, hands moving to your waist. He hadn’t even realized the two of you weren’t alone in the aisle, nor that the other person here was his brother.

You couldn’t help but just melt into your boyfriend’s touch as he kissed you— moving his lips down your jaw and neck. Your hands steadied on his abdomen, as he lavished your collar in desperate affection.

“Holy fuck.”

Dick was completely in shock. Jason was not only acting clingy with someone— completely vulnerable and desperate, but was also with a god forsaken secret girlfriend he had never told anyone about! It showed in the way he kissed the girl’s neck, and in the way he held her tight, that Jay was in love. But still, was this all some fucking witchcraft? How in gods name did someone get him to open up and act all lovey-dovey like that?

He didn’t know what to do, but sure as hell didn’t want to get caught. Dick slipped out of the asile, your collective giggles still faintly audible as he entered the parallel row. He was debating on taking a photo or not… but he didn’t want to invade the girl’s privacy.

Instead, he made a mental note of the encounter, checking out and leaving, already picturing the faces of his family when he’d bring it up at the next dinner.

[classyrbf]

pussy inspection with nanami can we have some degradation please and thank youuu 💞💞💞💞

PRINCESS PARTS! — NANAMI KENTO

SYNOPSIS...nanami always has to make sure that he always inspects his pretty princess

INFO...nanami x fem!reader, slight fingering, spanking, degradation, nanami being a tease, pussy inspection, nanami is kinda mean, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

thank you so much for the request pookie I hope you enjoy it!

as soon as you stepped out of the car from running errands all day (the errands being shopping with your husbands credit card) you got a text a from him asking to come to his office. You weren’t sure what the occasion was, but when you finally made it into the house with the millions of bags, you gingerly made your way over to your husbands office.

For some reason you felt a bit nervous. Nanami always calls you if anything important, he rarely ever texts, but you never question him on anything. “Ken?” You softly call out, seeing his office door is cracked, slowly opening it to see him sitting in his chair, sipping on a glass of whiskey. “Hi.” You smile. “I just came back from the store! I got these pretty dresses I think—”

“Come here.” He sternly spoke, his glass clinking on the wooden table as he set it down. His gaze never left yours, like a predator trying to intimidate its prey. “Come here,” he repeated. The silence was deafening bedsides the wood creaking under your feet as you hesitantly stepped closer. And when you got close enough he pulled you over his lap in the blink of an eye, leaving you breathless. “What’s this?” He held up your panties in his hand. You stayed silent looking down in shame. You could feel his large hand rub over the fabric of your sundress, toying with the hem of it as he lifted it slowly. “Ah,” he let out a chuckle, one that had a hit of annoyance.

“I’m sorry.” Was all you could muster. You knew we’re in the wrong. Before leaving to go shopping, you decided to wear any panties, but stupidly enough you left the evidence in the room for him to find. He fully lifted the fabric, exposing your ass to the cool air of his office.

“You left the house without any panties on? What were you planning to do, huh?” He swatted your ass, making you jump. “We’re you playing with my pussy on the way home? Playing with in the dressing room? Cause you’re that much of a desperate little slut.” He slapped your ass again, a small whimper falling from your lips.

“No, no! I swear I didn’t touch myself! I just…” You didn’t really have an explanation as to why you did it, only making it harder for him to believe your words.

“No? You sure? You know I have to check, right?” He squeezed the plump flesh of your ass, spread your cheeks slightly to get a good look at your cunt. He licked his limps, swiping his thumb over your slit. “Gotta make sure my pretty princess didn’t cum without me, yeah?” He spread your legs farther before taking his fingers and spreading your lips, watching the way your pink hole fluttered around nothing. He could see how wet you were getting, gathering some of your slick and rubbing your clit with it.

“Ken,” you whimpered, squirming in his lap. He ignored you, slapping your ass again as a warning to stop moving.

“I just have to make sure, baby. I know how much of a slut you like to be, showing off your pretty pussy. You’re just a dumb little thing who doesn’t know any better.” He slips his thumb into your pussy, moving it around and rubbing against your g-spot before slipping it out. “Why are you so wet?” He slaps your ass again.

“I’m sorry! It just…feels so good,” you explain, biting down on your bottom lip. You look back, staring up at him was such a desperate look, only to be met with his cold gaze.

“Use your words more. Tell me.” He gently caresses your face. “Is it this?” He slips his thumb back in, watching the way your jaw drops and brows furrow. You nod at his question. “Words.” He spanks your ass harder.

“Yes! It’s that! It’s everything! I like when you inspect my princess parts, and make sure I’m not misbehaving,” you confess. Kento hummed in response, slowly massaging your walls with his thumb.

“So you’ve been doing this on purpose? Leaving your panties around the house for me to find so you can get your pussy touched and looked at. What am I going to do with you?” He shakes his head, clicking his tongue at you. He slips out his thumb, rubbing your neglected clit in slow, agonizing circles. “Get up.”

“Wha-why?” You asked, confused. “Ah!” He spanks you once more. You quickly scurry off of his lap, standing in front of him and pulling your dress down.

He hands you your panties from earlier. “Put them back on and sit in your mess. You think being bad gets you rewarded?” He scolds you, watching as you slip your panties over your legs, pulling them up. “And don’t you dare sneak off and try and make yourself cum like the desperate little whore you are.”

“But, please,” you mutter. “I’ve been waiting all day. I know—”

“Do I need to repeat myself?” He clenches his jaw. You shake your head. “Good. Now, go and grab the new clothes you bought and put on a show for me, yeah? I’ll be waiting.”

[archangeldyke-all]

PARAMEDIC SEV MEETING HER WIFE AND SAVIN MG HERRRRRRRREEEEEE

lush i love ur ideas omg

men and minors dni

you never should've agreed to babysit for silco and vander.

so what if it's their anniversary and they haven't had a dinner date all year. it's their own damn fault for deciding to have four fucking kids. you don't know what you were thinking agreeing to this-- but you're certainly paying the consequences now.

claggor hasn't been too bad-- doing his homework at the counter as you cooked dinner, helping you figure out where they store their spices and pots.

mylo was alright in the beginning, but as the night grew on and he started getting tired, he started getting grumpy and irritable.

jinx is always up to trouble-- she's been trying to trip you up all night, cackling each time you barely muffle a curse as you stumble.

and now, you've caught vi sneaking a girl into her room.

"violet, how do you even have a girlfriend, you're ten!" you shout.

"i'm eleven, and cait's not my girlfriend. she's just my bestie. and we practice kissing with each other sometimes." vi says with a shrug.

"what made you think you could have her over here tonight?!" you ask.

vi shrugs. "she comes over every wednesday, dads just haven't caught her yet."

you groan.

"i-i can leave." the posh girl in front of you offers. you heave a sigh.

"no, stay, i can't let you walk home in the dark. i'll drive you home when the old men get back, alright?"

vi grins and slams the door in your face.

you turn around just in time to dodge a shoe flying down the hall. behind you, it smacks mylo in the back of the head.

"what the fuck!" the boy shouts, turning around with a glare. jinx giggles from the other end of the hall. you want to cry.

"please just go to your rooms." you whine.

mylo just growls, grabbing the nearest small object and flinging it back at jinx.

only-- he's grabbed a letter opener, sitting by a pile of mail.

you gasp as the sharp object goes whizzing by your face-- headed straight to jinx's chest.

and before you know what's happening-- you're reaching out and snatching the object out of the air.

for a second, it's silent-- mylo and jinx both shocked by your quick thinking and the dangerous situation you all narrowly avoided. then, jinx shrieks.

"you just tried to kill me!"

"i thought it was just a pen!" mylo defends. "you threw dad's shoe at my head!"

"it was his house slipper! it barely hurt."

"oh, i'm gonna fuckin' kill y-- you're bleeding." mylo says.

jinx blinks, the argument forgotten as she looks over at you.

it takes you a few moments to realize that the kids are talking to you. you blink down at your hand, gasping when you find it covered in blood, trickling steadily onto the floor.

"oh. shit." you whisper. the pain hits you all at once and you take a sharp breath. "oh shit." you whine.

"w-what do we do?" jinx asks. you walk to the kitchen, mylo and jinx following close behind you, both of them nervous and worried about you.

"gotta run it under some water and see how deep the cut is." you whisper, placing your hand under the running tap.

you and the kids wait anxiously for the water to run clear, but it stays consistently red.

mylo cringes. "i think you cut something important." he mutters.

you gulp, the shock and adrenaline of the injury wearing off, leaving you shaky and very aware of how much blood you're losing.

"should i call dad?" jinx asks softly.

there's a shriek in the hall, and claggor comes sprinting into the kitchen, concern on his face. "what happened?!" he shouts.

you grunt. "i caught a knife."

claggor's eyes only widen more, and then he's pulling out his cellphone. "i'm calling an ambulance."

you, jinx, and mylo groan. "no! there's no need for the fuss." you try to argue.

claggor walks over to the sink, gagging at the sight of your hand. "there's a puddle of blood in the hall! and you're still bleeding!"

"'m fine." you mumble, getting a little dizzy. claggor groans.

"mylo, take her to the couch and lay her down. jinx, call dad."

"y'r a good kid." you mumble, ruffling claggor's hair with your uninjured hand as mylo guides you to the living room.

jinx brings you a glass of water as you wait.

you, jinx, and mylo sit on the couch-- your hand held over a bucket to catch all your blood-- watching claggor pace a hole in the carpet.

vi and her girlfriend only decide to see what the commotion is about when an ambulance pulls up out front.

you feel stupid and overwhelmed and your hand really fucking hurts, but you really don't want to cry in front of all your nieces and nephews.

and then, because the universe hates you, the most attractive woman you've ever seen in your life ends up being your paramedic.

jinx answers the door. you want to die when you see the angel standing on the porch. "someone called about a stabbing?" the woman asks.

you chuckle. "let her in jinx." the woman and her partner walk into silco and vander's home-- her eyebrows raising just a bit at the sight of you and the gaggle of children surrounding her. "not a stabbing. a knife thrown and caught." you say.

"really!?" vi asks, just now catching up on the drama of the night.

"yeah, because mylo tried to fucking kill me!" jinx shouts.

mylo groans. "how many times do i have to tell you i thought it was a pen! and you started it!"

you might actually start crying now. you're in so much pain, you're so overwhelmed, and you probably look gross as hell right now in front of this goddess of a paramedic, who's kneeling in front of you with a concerned look as she gently grabs your wrist.

"ran, why don't you take the kids out to the backyard and play a game? give us a little more space to work in here." the woman says to her partner.

ran grins. "you kids like freeze tag?" they ask.

the kids all burst into excited chatter, following ran out to the back of the house. you sigh in relief.

"thank you."

"i'm guessing they're not your kids?" the woman in front of you asks. you laugh, loud and surprised. you suppose it's better than crying.

"oh, fuck no! i'm their aunt, which i don't usually mind, unless it means i have to fuckin' babysit." you pout. "the tallest girl with the blazer on isn't even theirs. caught her sneakin' in to see the redhead. apparently they're besties who practice kissing." you say with a roll of your eyes.

the woman in front of you laughs. "i had a few of those back in the day." you gulp, your eyes bulging out of your head at her words. she looks back up at you with concern.

"does it hurt?" she asks. you blink, not understanding what she's referencing before you finally remember your hand. the hand she's gently cleaning with alcohol.

"you like women?" you ask miserably. the woman in front of you blinks.

"...yes?" she asks. "is that a prob--" you burst into tears before she can continue. "woah-- what, hey! what's happening? does it hurt? are you okay?"

"sorry, sorry!" you cry, waving away her concern and covering your face with a hand. "fuck this is humiliating. ignore me." you cry.

she blinks. "this is the weirdest homophobic reaction i've ever gotten."

you laugh, snot and tears flowing freely as you giggle. "no!" you squeak. "no, that's not-- just fuckin'-- of course you're a hot lesbian. i get all dressed up every weekend and go out lookin' for someone and i get nothing. i cut my fuckin' hand open after chasing kids around all day and the universe sends me the hottest woman i've ever seen. and she's a lesbian. and i'm soaked in sweat and blood and i'm pretty sure i smell like pre-teen armpits." you cry.

the woman in front of you cackles, her pretty silver eyes sparkling as she starts wrapping up your hand. "just a little. but i smell like vomit." she says with a shrug. you giggle and wipe up your tears.

"sorry." you say again. she smiles at you.

"it's okay. you're cute. 'specially now that i know you're into me and not, y'know. a bigot."

you giggle, shaking your head. "don't flirt with me." you scold. the woman beside you laughs.

"you started it!"

"i did not! i was having an emotional breakdown and you were accusing me of homophobia. i don't even know your name!"

"sevika." she says with a sweet smile. "my name's sevika. and, for the record, you're hot soaked in sweat and blood." sevika says with a shrug.

you grin. "do i need stitches?" you ask.

sevika shakes her head no. "it was bleeding a lot, but you didn't cut too deep. just keep the bandages on for a the night and change 'em out tomorrow. you should be healed up in a few days. i'll give you some cream-- if you get infected or irritated, or it doesn't heal; go to the ER."

you nod. "does that mean you're leaving, now?"

she chuckles. "worried about the kids?"

"no, well, now i am now that you mention it." you say. sevika laughs. "i was just..." you trail off.

sevika's just doing her job. she's fucking fantastic at it-- but that's all this is. she kept you talking to keep you distracted, she flirted a bit so the pain wouldn't be so bad, and now she's leaving.

"you were just what?" she asks.

you shrug. "it's inappropriate."

"can't be as bad as the old man who answered his door naked for us earlier today." she says with a shrug. you giggle.

"maybe i could get your number? in case i need help changing the bandages."

sevika grins. "yeah? that's why?" she asks with a raise of her eyebrow.

you giggle and shrug. "and maybe so i can show you how nice i clean up. take you out to dinner as a thank you."

"yeah, alright. i could be into that." sevika agrees.

you grin, then scramble for a piece of paper and a pen, eagerly handing sevika the scrap of paper. she pockets it with a sweet, shy smile.

her and ran take off a few minutes later, and silco and vander get home right after. it takes you an hour to catch them up with the events of the night: informing them of their children's petty feuds, that their daughter has a girlfriend, and that they've got a giant puddle of blood to clean up outside their room. they thank you, and with a promise that you'll never have to babysit again, you finally head home.

it's been a crazy night. you're exhausted. the moment you get home, you crawl in bed, ready for sleep.

but right before you drift off, your phone buzzes.

it's sevika, the hot lesbian.

you grin. another text comes through.

i got this weekend off, wanna treat me to that dinner you were talking about?

you end up staying up the rest of the night, texting the paramedic and giggling like you imagine vi does when she's on the phone with cait.

alright... maybe this night wasn't all that bad...

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@lavenderbabu @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke

@strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed @dvrkhcld @sweetybuzz25

@sluttysierraaa @snake-in-a-flower-crown @ruiwonderz @littlemisszaunite @biblicalcrybaby

@blackgaladriel @nightlyconfusion

[heich0e]

when sukuna finally (FINALLY) commits and introduces you to his older brother—with only a bit of awkwardness, considering your brief but ill-fated first encounter—he's so quietly... pleased about how seamlessly you blend into the family. he's so smug about it all, in the privacy of his own thoughts.

he sits back and watches you and jin in the kitchen of his brother's apartment, tidying up the remaining mess from the meal you'd all shared together whilst chatting happily between yourselves. it's so easy having you here. so normal in a way that he never expected it to be.

you're the first girl he's ever brought to his brother's house for dinner. the first girl his nephew has ever shyly asked to read him his bedtime story, still rosy-cheeked from his bath and dressed in his little pokemon pyjamas. the first girl he's ever mentioned by name in conversation with his cantankerous old man—who had promptly asked, with a look of wide-eyed horror, "ya didn't go and knock some poor girl up, didja?" which had (to the surprise of no one) devolved into an argument.

but the way you've managed to fit yourself into sukuna's life (every part of it) isn't all that shocking, either.

it's you, after all.

how could anyone dislike you? how could they deny you anything?

you're the person who managed to leash someone like itadori sukuna. to tame him into... whatever the hell it is he's become these days. to bring him to his knees (in ways both proverbial and literal.)

the first. the only.

it's so normal now, having you around. waking up in your bed with you on a weekday morning before work. having a second toothbrush in his tiny, shitty apartment for you to use when you spend the night there. coming to jin's house once a week for dinner. babysitting yuuji with you whenever his brother needs a hand.

yuuji's been besotted with you from your very first meeting, and the adoration hasn't waned a bit since then—if anything, he's more obsessed with you than he's ever been. on the (increasingly rare) occasion that sukuna and yuuji are left to their own devices, the six-year-old talks about you constantly: asking where you are, what you've been up to, when he'll see you next. at the store, yuuji always points out the snacks he knows you like to eat and insists his uncle buy them to give to you. at the park, he makes his uncle take pictures of every dog they meet so that he can send show them to you later. before bed, he insists that his uncle call you so that he can say goodnight (and talk your ear off for at least thirty minutes about everything he did that day.)

frankly, sukuna can't blame the kid for being so obsessed with you—he clearly inherited his uncle's good taste.

but his older brother took to you just as quickly as his son. jin even got a bit weepy the first night you came over for dinner, while you were off reading yuuji his bedtime story and the two itadori brothers were out sipping beer on the apartment balcony. jin looked at his little brother with misty eyes, and earnestly told him how happy he was for him. how great he thinks you are. how lucky his little brother is to have you. sukuna had immediately wanted to pitch himself over the railing in mortification at the disgusting sentimentality of it all, but instead grunted out some unintelligible reply. something close to gratitude, maybe. an agreement even.

and that was that. your fate was sealed. you'd been accepted into this part of his life, the one sukuna'd never even thought to bring another person into.

and sukuna will never admit it, but maybe him and his embarrassing older brother aren't all that different after all—because he's pretty happy about it, too.

[comicgeekscomicgeek]

"Aw, geeze, that's awful. That's a shame a nice lady like you has got to through all this. And I promise, we'll be out of your hair as soon as possible. I'm sure you've got enough to deal with without us stomping around and poking into everything.

"Just one more thing, though. Something I just can't wrap my head around. You said your husband was in the catnip business, right? Never touch the stuff myself, but my wife and I, our nephew, he owns a dispensary. And he told us, he told us that it's a cash only business, because the banks and the credit card companies won't allow their cards to be used for any transactions. Can you imagine? Cash business, all up and down the chain, from buying up stock to buying it in the store! That's an awful lot of money to keep track of. So if he was going out to buy new blends of capnip, he'd have needed a lot of cash. But we talked to the bank, and they said he hadn't taken out in any money in weeks.

"Isn't that strange?"

[ddlydevotion]

Dating Luigi Mangione ࣪ ۪ ֢ 🦢‌ࣳ ! !

currently listening to: salvatore by lana del rey

a/n: I’ve been seeing many fics of Luigi where people portray him as rude/aggressive so I wanted to try something a lil different.

His facial expressions are always on point in every video we’ve seen of him, so I have a feeling he’d be a very active listener. You could be in the middle of telling him how your day went and a small smile would spread across his lips at the sound of your melodic voice. His eyebrows twitching with concern once you start to mention anything negative occurring. this is basically his face when he’s listening to you:

He would most definitely be the type to make playlists in your name while he’s thinking of you. He’s so in love with you to the point where he can no longer listen to his favorite music without thinking of you and the beautiful moments the two of you have shared. He also has a habit of sending you songs that he thinks you’ll like/remind him of you.

He loves being able to live life to the fullest and loves doing it with you even more. He takes photos of the two of you wandering around whatever city you’ve traveled to with a little $30 digi cam. He has a Polaroid of the two of you placed in his wallet.

Luigi doesn’t need a gift to be expensive in order to fully cherish it. You could give him a handwritten letter and he’d protect it with his life because you gave it to him. He can’t afford to lose any evidence of the love the two of you share for one another. He loves gifting you items that reminded him of you, things you mentioned enjoying, surprising you to go do something you’ve mentioned wanting to participate in. You don’t even have to mention any of these things more than once because he’ll remember.

His back pain can get incredibly severe and there comes days where he can’t seem to focus on even the most simplest of things. Having you there while he attends physical therapy, participates in yoga/gets helpful treatments somehow makes the pain a bit more manageable. Knowing that he can go to you when he needs something is enough to ease his anxieties in situations regarding his chronic pain.

As I’ve mentioned before, Luigi loves trying new things and exposing himself to unfamiliar cultures/locations. This fact goes hand in hand with his openness to trying new food with you. Oh, he’s never tried ____ before? Well, might as well try it now with you!

You make his travels so much more lively and notable.

Three words: skin to skin.

The loving warmth of your welcoming hands and fingers tracing shapes onto his muscular back makes him feel as if he’s on cloud nine. He loves being able to wake up to the sun peeking through the blinds and feeling your bare skin embracing him.

He has a HUGE family and mostly all of them have heard the lovely stories he has stored up about you. During the first Christmas you ever spent with his family, they made sure they had your favorite foods out on display. How did they know they were your favorites? Well, you have your boyfriend and his ramblings to thank for that. Despite not having spent much time with you, his family still found the time to provide you with your very own gifts. You’ve felt nothing but welcomed by their presence as they treated you like an old friend upon your first meeting.

You don’t really have to want for anything when you’re with Lu. You mention wanting to go see that movie that just came out? He already has a tab open on his phone to purchase tickets. He sees you eyeing something at the store but hesitate buying because ‘it’s too much’ ? Well, he’s putting it in the cart anyway.

Definitely calls you cute little variations of your name. His favorite terms of endearment to use for you are probably: baby, cutie, babe, princess, etc. was gonna put sweetheart but I’m not too sure

[sunderwight]

Thinking about what if SJ had left the Qiu manor a little earlier (some other final straw breaks the camel's back sooner), and actually manages to get a lead on YQ and follows it to Cang Qiong Mountain while YQ is in the thick of his "locked suffering in a cave" arc.

SJ arrives and is immediately struck by the needle-in-a-haystack-ness of the situation. The population of all the peaks put together is huge, and he has no clout to leverage, no reason to get people to care what he's there for and a strong reluctance to tip his hand about... basically anything. Even totally earnest intentions to find his childhood friend.

So SJ skips the usual disciple trials (none are being held at the time he arrives anyway) and just steals a disciple uniform for An Ding. An Ding has a lot of outer disciples. SJ doesn't even know which peak it is, he just sees the place that has the most faceless/nameless lackeys doing grunt work and goes okay, I bet they don't always know all their own by name and face, and he's correct.

The bluff works hilariously well. When he gets back to An Ding with his "fellow" disciples he just finds an unused storage room to sleep in, and even when he gets sort-of caught out at it the shixiong who catches him just bemoans the hazing/bullying on the peaks. When SJ establishes that he's fine sleeping in the store room, Shang-shixiong even bribes him to keep his mouth shut about the "bullying epidemic" by giving him a proper cot and blankets to use. So SJ doesn't even have to deal with being in a dorm.

He multitasks actually learning what cultivation he can from the other An Ding disciples and masters, and investigating all the other latest arrivals to the peaks. It isn't long before Shang-shixiong spills the beans about the rising star of Qiong Ding Peak, who came from apparently nowhere during the selection trials, matches Yue Qi's description, has the same surname, and disappeared mysteriously a few weeks ago.

Shen Jiu's gut twists around at word of the disappearance. He is all too aware of the kinds of things it usually means when handsome, talented boys with no family or backing just disappear mysteriously all of a sudden. He's heard things about the sort of uses cultivators have for people with a lot of raw talent and not a lot of knowledge or protection, too. Qiu Jianluo used to make it a point to explain exactly what SJ's cultivation talents could be used for (cauldron stuff), both as a threat and also as a warning against him trying to go outside and find a master. Even Yue Qi had sort of tried to warn him, in his own way, by demanding SJ always keep it a secret.

Yue Qi might have believed that the righteous cultivators in an official sect wouldn't stoop to such dirty, underhanded methods, and might have thought he was safe here. SJ holds no such optimistic illusions. The An Ding peak lord give every impression of the same kind of sycophantic public servants who used to take kickbacks from wealthier families in his home city, and even only glimpsed at a distance, the sect leader gives him the creeps.

Anyway, SJ eventually figures out that something is up with the Ling Xi caves, goes down and finds a sealed-off cavern with just a few cracks he can peer through. Cue reversal of the last time he saw Yue Qi, with the older boy now being the one locked away by a cruel master, and SJ having to whisper reassurances and promises of rescue.

[thecoochiefairy]

bloodhound. toji.

𑄽𑄺 warnings 𑄽𑄺 15.9K word count. blackfem!reader, toji fushiguro, mafiagangmember!toji , violence, dominant!toji, sweet!toji, aggressive!toji, sensual sex, black woman, vaginal penetration, rough sex, lil bit of sweet talkin’, creaming, oral [f], choking, praising, LOTS of dirty talk, condom-less sex, kissing, spanking, minors aren’t welcome!

━━ 𝒄𝙤𝒐𝙘𝒉𝙞𝒆𝙛𝒂𝙞𝒓𝙮 𝙩𝒉𝙤𝒖𝙜𝒉𝙩𝒔 .ᐟ this idea came at a random, kinda just for fun. loved it at first, started hating it as i wrote it? was committed to finish. idk. ugh. however, it was inspired by ‘the yakuza wife’ anime. anyways, a lot happened in the real world, sorry y’all. i love you. just enjoy. visuals.

EYES. THEY WERE ALWAYS RECEIVED TO HER BY THE STARE OF OTHER PEOPLE. It was common at this point, so much that it didn’t even offend her—But it should’ve.

 Instead, she brought her focus upon the dimly lit lanterns that lead to the end of the market, needing to make it back to Tokyo before dark. Chocolate brown panels above to protect the stores from rain, cherry blossoms sprouting along the poles as she passed by, watching as the bars and restaurants began to pack like sardines within a can. 

Back to the staring, she counted about three people today. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world. It just didn’t make sense to her—she’d been in Japan all her life, and she still felt like an outsider. She didn’t have fair skin, silky hair, or a petite frame. She was different, but he always reminded her there was beauty in being like no other. 

She’d make sure to grab a small carton of rouge strawberries, her favorite fruit at any time of day. Number four, the man at the counter gives her a strange look as she walks around the store, before suppressing his peculiar stare, replacing it with a respectful smile as she hands him 10,000 yen.

It was a silent two hour ride back home—she knew she was going to get chastised, especially being without protection. The familiar walkway of succulents swayed with the wind as she followed a pathway, now standing in front of the barrier that separated her from the machiya—or house— as he’d taught her to say. She glances up at the camera that tries to hide at the top of the gate, also looking down through the bars as she can see one of the guards pointing a gun directly at her. The groceries become heavier.

She sighs, “Are you gonna let me in, or shoot me?” 

When the guard recognizes the familiar voice, he lowers his gun at the same time he bows, constantly repeating, “Sumimasen,” as the top of the gate unlocks.

She gives a polite wave to the older women dressed in their housekeeping attire, they all greet her back, continuing to clean the front porch. She hears one of them call to help her with the groceries, to which she always waved off. Making her way inside, she quickly dropped the groceries in the kitchen, beginning to pull the items out of the bag as she could instantly feel someone behind her. She doesn’t have to look back, knowing it’s the man that’s assigned to follow her everywhere she goes. 

She exhales, “You don’t have to hide in the corner, Kenji. Is my grandfather awake?”

Kenji, a tall and muscular man, emerges from the shadows and makes his way into the kitchen. He stands by the fridge, hands behind his back. 

"No ma’am, he is still asleep," Kenji replies, his voice low and authoritative. He watches as she unpacks the groceries, his gaze unwavering. 

"You didn’t tell anyone you were leaving.”

“Would you have taken me down to Kyoto if I asked?” She raises an eyebrow, knowing the answer to that, “I needed fresh fruit. You would’ve gone out and got it yourself.” 

Kenji was an older, extremely serious man. Barely could get a laugh, smile, even the twitch of his face. He’d been the guardian of their family for years, but even he had his stresses when it came to her.

“That doesn’t mean you should leave the estate without me,” he replies stiffly. "You could’ve woken me up and I would’ve taken you.”  

“I made it back safely,” she counters, “No one recognized me, so it’s fine. You want a strawberry?” She takes one from the plastic, reaching it out to him.

Kenji eyes the strawberry for a moment, before reluctantly taking it. 

"It’s not about making it back safely," he replies, a hint of irritation in his tone. "It’s about the fact that you left without telling anyone. Anything could’ve happened to you." 

“Ahh, you took it from me! You’re not that mad, Mamoru,” she calls him the traditional term, “You can save all that intimidation shit for Jiji, not me.”

"Don’t call me that," he mutters, crossing his arms. "And don’t call your grandfather Jiji. Have some respect."

“What? Is Ojiichan better for you?” She questions as she reaches her hand out, “Here. Have another strawberry. You’re mean today.”

Kenji grumbles, but accepts another strawberry anyway. 

"Don’t try and butter me up," he mutters, taking a bite. "I’m not mean. I’m just doing my job." 

He leans against the counter, looking at her with a mix of annoyance and concern. He taps the piece within his ear, his eyes coming up as he says, “Your grandfathers awake.”

“I’m going,” she’s already beginning to make her way upstairs, “Don’t touch the groceries! I can put them up myself.”

She comes down the hallway, sliding the wooden frame of the door, pressing her hand against the translucent paper as her eyes follow to the sight of her grandfather. Smile lines creased his olive face, even when he wasn’t happy. 

She watched the housekeeper dab a cold towel against his face, walking forward as she tells her, “I’m here, you can go take a break,” she gives a light smile, offering to take the towel from her.

The housekeeper nods appreciatively and leaves the room, closing the door behind her. The only sound left is the soft breathing of her grandfather. 

He turns his head towards her, his eyes slowly opening. “You’re back,” he rasps, his voice weak.

She sits along the floor beside his bed as she softly replies, “I’m surprised you’re not raising your blood pressure to yell at me.”

Her grandfather manages a weak smile, wincing slightly as he shifts in the bed. 

"I'll save my anger for later," he mutters, his voice gruff. "What were you thinking, leaving without telling anyone?"

“I wasn’t gone that long,” she tells him, to which he says, “Bogo de hanashite kudasai.”

She replies, “You’re getting better at your English—can you not be difficult right now?”

"You still haven't explained why you went to the market by yourself."

“I went to your favorite market in Kyoto to find those dumplings you like, I wanted to make ramen,” she says, reaching out as she lightly dabs the towel against his face, “You’ still wanna yell now?”

Her grandfather's gruff exterior softens, and he looks at her with a hint of surprise. He can never stay mad at her. 

"No," he mutters, closing his eyes as he lets out a long sigh. "I suppose you did bring me my favorite dumplings."

“How are you feeling?” 

Her grandfather grunts, waving off the question. "I'm fine," he says dismissively, "You don't need to worry about me."

He notices the look on her face, and sighs. "I'm tired," he admits, wincing slightly as he tries to sit up more in the bed.

“You’ll feel better once I cook,” she mentions, “Do you want to try to take an actual shower today?”

“I’m too weak to stand,” he mutters, a hint of stubbornness in his voice, “And I don’t need help showering. I’m still capable of taking care of myself.”

“Yet you can’t stand?” She raises an eyebrow. 

She watches him lean back into the pillow, breathing as if he’d just done a marathon. The ball in her throat begins to form, and she hates that. She then says, “The man that would kill to protect his family, is now letting cancer take him in the dead of the night. You say I’m stubborn, and you wonder where that comes from?”

He grunts, turning away from her gaze. “Don’t start,” he mutters, his voice hoarse. “I’m an old man. I’ve already lived my life. I don’t need your pity.”

“And I’m not giving it to you,” she swiftly replies, “We could’ve found the best treatment in Japan. And yet here you are, wanting your final days to be in the walls of this home. The leader of the Yakuza—who’s gonna scare the city when you’re gone?”

Her grandfather glares at her, his eyes narrow and sharp. "I've made my decision," he snaps, "This is where I want to be. I'm not some coward who's afraid to face death. And don't talk to me about the Yakuza. I've done everything I needed to do for them." 

He lets out a deep sigh, his shoulders sagging as he leans back against the pillows.  "I don't need you to remind me that I'm dying."

She brings her head down, staring along the towel she holds. She says softly, “Gomen’nasai,” her throat becoming tight again as she continues, “I just wish you weren’t trying to run away from me.”

"I'm not running away from you," he says, his tone gruff but gentle. "I'm just tired. I've spent my whole life fighting and I just want to rest now."

She knows that. It’s just hard to hear. The man that raised her, taught her everything she needed to know, maybe even more. She hesitates, “Nani ka kiite mo īdesu ka?”

He nods, intertwining his fingers back together, laying himself properly back along the pillows beneath his body.

“Do you regret the life you lived?” 

The question is general, although she wants to be specific. She slowly continues, “I know you for who you are, but others don’t. They feared you, feared the people you brought in. You—killed people, did illegal things. Would you have changed that?”

Her grandfather lets out a long sigh, thinking about her question. He is silent for a moment, contemplating his life spent. 

"Yes," he finally says, his voice rough. "There are many things I regret about the life I lived. Things I did that I wish I could undo. But I did what I thought was necessary for the family." 

He looks at her, his eyes meeting hers. "But I never regret meeting your grandmother, and I never regret having your father. And I never regret bringing you into this world."

She suppresses her smile as she says, “You’re getting soft on me, Jiji.”

"I'm not getting soft," he mutters, rolling his eyes. "I'm just being honest. However, I have one dying wish.” 

She nods her head, waiting for him to continue. He then says, “You will be twenty-six soon, and all I ask is that you’re married before I die.”

She frowns, “That’s not long, Jiji, what am I supposed to do? Go out and pick a husband off of the street?”

Her grandfather smiles at her reaction, amused by her stubbornness. "No, obviously not," he chuckles, coughing a little at the end. "I don’t expect you to pick the first man you see. But you need to start thinking about it. You need to find a good man, someone who will take care of you after I’m gone."

“I can take care of myself,” she’s always told him, “I’ll be the first in your generation to be lonely with cats.”

Her grandfather grunts, looking at her with a mixture of amusement and annoyance. "Don’t be ridiculous. You’re not going to live alone with cats."

“I suspect you have a line up of men to offer to me?” She raises an eyebrow, “I don’t think I’m fond of being with those Yakuza crazies you keep under your wing.”

He studies her again, his eyes narrowed. "They’re respectable men. You're not a little girl anymore. It's time to start thinking about your future."

“I do think about my future. I’m trying to finish school to become a registered nurse, but you seem to tune out as soon as I tell you that,” she reminded him. Her grandfather was unfortunately an extremely traditional man, only seeing women to be taken care of by men.

"You're wasting your time with that," he grumbles, his eyes flickering back to hers. "You don't need to work. You have enough money to live comfortably for the rest of your life. And you certainly don't need to be a nurse. You're a woman, not a doctor."

“So what are you saying?” 

“I’m saying that I’ve found someone for you.”

Her frown deepens. She says, “Ojiichan, I hope you aren’t insinuating an arranged marriage.”

“An arranged marriage is not something you should reject right away," he says gruffly. "I know the perfect man for you. He's respectful, wealthy, and he comes from a good family in the Yakuza.” 

“What happened to not wanting me married off to a man like you or my father? The one who robbed, cheated, lied, killed? That’s what you want for me?” She sharply replies.

"Don’t you talk to me like that," he snaps, "I worked hard for this family. So did my son. I made sure we had power and a life most people dreamed of. This is a good man—strong, traditional. You will meet him tomorrow.”

Your eyes widen slightly, “What? ‘The hell do you mean tomorrow?”

Her grandfather looks at her sternly, his eyes piercing into hers. "You will meet him tomorrow. I'm not asking you, I’m telling you. You will get dressed and you will sit with him for tea." 

He raises a hand when she starts to speak, silencing her. "This is not a discussion. You will meet him, and you will be polite. Understood?"

When she goes to argue again, his hand raises further, her eyes catching the trail of ink littered along the back of his arm, knowing it followed all the way up his back, down his spine. It was a reminder of who he once was, and the authority in his tone also did that. 

He says, “This is my dying wish, Sayuki. You will do this.” 

The call of her full name, she knows it’s no room for argument. She wasn’t ready to meet anyone, let alone be married. But this was all he asked of her, and she wanted to respect his wishes in death. 

She nods her head, “Okay.”

Her grandfather’s expression softens slightly as he sees her nod. He lowers his hand, gesturing to the door, “Good. Now go make my gyoza, a dying man needs to eat.”

At this moment, she thought about poisoning his food. But she gave him something easier. A fake smile, a bow, and exiting the room. 

                                          𝓐ᥫ᭡

     CHAMOMILE TEA. That’s what she remembered from this interaction. When the next day came, it flew by just to spite her. It was now closer to the evening, the lanterns of the night beginning to light as she stood within the mirror of her bedroom. She turned her body as she looked at herself, the backless pale yellow dress flowing down to her thin golden heels, straps wrapped around the tattoos along her feet. The top of her dress tied into a bow around her neck, dark hair up within a matching claw clip.

 If there was a luxury her grandfather had given her, it was to dress however she chose. He’d shoot on sight for anyone that had an opinion on it. Tendrils flew around the caramel complexion of her face, honey brown freckles showing through her makeup despite her foundation, fox eyes slender beneath her lash extensions, pointing upwards along her face. 

She pressed the brown outline of her cupid's bow lips to mix with the mauve closest to her mouth, spraying herself of a sensuous vanilla and jasmine scent before she made her way out of the door, Kenji immediately following behind. 

She asked him softly, “Do I look okay?” Knowing the older man didn’t have much opinion, but she needed some type of reaction from someone.

Kenji looked at her, his expression stoic as usual, his eyes roaming over her figure, "You look beautiful," he said, his voice dry as usual. 

He paused for a moment, his eyes lingering on her face, "But you’re nervous," he added, “You’re squeezing your hands together."

“I know,” she sighs, “What if this is the husband of my dreams, Kenji? Like those dramatic movies I used to watch as a kid?”

He patted her shoulder reassuringly, "Just...try to act normal. And don’t punch him, at least not right away."

She huffs out a breath, “Thanks.”

She then slides the opening door to her grandfather's room, seeing as a housekeeper sat beside him, pressing a spoon to his mouth as she fed him soup. 

Sayuki greeted, “I hear a lot of noise from downstairs, Jiji, are your children already running amuck?”

“Don’t joke like that,” he said, his tone gruff, “But yes, half of the clan’s already gathering. They’ll be at a meeting while you’re on your date.”

“Did you have to do that the same day? I’d rather avoid the embarrassment,” she replies, “…You didn’t tell me my dress was pretty.”

“You look like a delicate flower, my child.” 

That makes her feel at ease. She then says, “Don’t let those idiots rummage the fridge, please? Those groceries are for you. I’ll be in the garden if you need me, okay?”

Her grandfather grunts, waving her off with a hand, "Don't show that attitude when you meet him. Don't be sharp-tongued or sarcastic. Act like a proper lady."

She keeps from rolling her eyes. Leaning down closer to the bed, she gives him a kiss on the cheek, before sliding the door closed and making her way downstairs. The men of the Yakuza filled the entire living room and kitchen, rowdy, loud, cigarette smoking, talking shit. Matching black suits, dark hair—an intimidation brought all along Tokyo. It was as if she hadn’t passed by, throaty laughs filling the house as they continued to play cards, arguing with one another.

She was back to following the path of plants, leading up to the gazebo that was surrounded by clear water, koi fish and flowers she’d planted herself, or even helped the housekeeper plant. Her eyes fell over the figure sitting on the inside of it, a table now in the middle of the seating area, small bowls, cups and mugs placed atop. She glanced back at Kenji who now stood by the door that led back into the house, far away enough from the garden, but close enough if anything happened. Her eyes gazed over the smoke that released from the cigarette in between his scarred lip, his frame unfamiliar to her eyes.

Her eyes slowly dragged over the man seated in her gazebo, taking him all in. His broad, muscular shoulders. His sharp jawline. His tall figure even when seated, long legs traveling for miles. Onyx hair and eyebrows furrowed, the dark suit he wore hugged against his large frame that could’ve exploded the seams of material. 

She couldn't help but find him attractive already—and maybe a little intimidating. She took a deep breath, gathering the last bit of her courage, and walked through the garden towards him.

She lifted her leg onto the step, taking him in even closer. When his eyes finally met hers, her heart thumped, as his face wasn’t the best at expressing his emotions. Her hands clasped together in front of her, and she gave him a respectful bow—although she didn’t want to—making her way to the opposite side of the table as she sat herself down. His hand was huge, two fingers molding around his cigarette, plump lips taking another inhale as he scanned her. A couple minutes of silence go past, before his deep, attractive voice is the first to speak. 

“Nihongo o hanasemasu ka?” 

She blinks, trying to hide the scrunch in her nose as she replies, “I prefer to use English. Why wouldn’t I speak Japanese?” 

He doesn’t give an answer, only using his eyes to frown at her. She does roll her eyes this time, briefly explaining, “My mother is black. I’m fluent in both English and Japanese, if that’s what you’re trying to confirm.”

He seemed completely uninterested, his expression still blank. He took another drag of his cigarette, blowing the smoke out, his eyes never leaving her. After a moment, he spoke in English.

“You’re not what I was expecting.”

“Am I supposed to apologize for that?” She raises an eyebrow.

He narrowed his eyes at her, his expression cold, but amused, “Nah. An apology is unnecessary.”

His eyes flicker over her figure again, the corner of his lip twitching slightly, “But an introduction wouldn’t hurt, yeah?”

She crossed her right leg over her left, clearing her throat in a way to retract her question as she replies, “Sayuki. And you?”

“Toji Fushiguro.”

His eyes traveled down to her legs as she shifted them, watching her move.

“It’s a pretty name,” he says suddenly, taking another drag. “Sayuki. ‘Longevity, long-lived’.”

“You knew that off the top of your head?” She questions, “I don’t know what your name means.”

He chuckled slightly, a rare sound, his deep voice making her heart thump again before he responded. 

“Lucky,” he says, blowing another stream of smoke out, “My name means ‘lucky’.”

“Are you lucky?” She tilts her head, “I would say the habit of smoking is relatively unlucky.”

“Are you worried about my health after ten minutes of knowing each other?”

The question throws her off a bit. She wasn’t trying to have the upper hand in this conversation, but she surely didn’t want to seem nervous. She felt her face go warm as she counters, “Smoking is a bad habit for anyone. My grandfather did it a lot, one of the reasons he’s on his deathbed sooner than I’d like him to be.”

He looked at her steadily, the light smoke from his cigarette curling into the air as he watched her through the haze.

“I’m not worried shit like life expectancy,” he says simply, “My job comes first. If smoking helps me get through stress, then fuck it.”

“You Yakuza men seem to never care about something as important as your health, or your life,” she points out, “You think if you got married your wife wouldn’t be worried about that?”

“Then why are we talking then?” She questions, “Isn’t that what we’re here for?”

Toji’s expression darkened slightly at her question, his eyes flickering with a flash of annoyance. But then he chuckled again, a mocking, arrogant sound. 

“My old man’s making me talk to you,” he says, taking another drag of his cigarette, “He’s your Ojiichan’s right hand. Wants me to start a family, continue the bloodline and all that bullshit. So here I am.”

Yup, there it was. Her patience was thinning. 

She then asks, “And you don’t want that?”

“Nah,” he said simply, “Not at all.”  

He then smirked again, his dark gaze piercing her’s, “Why, do you want to start a family, Sayuki?”

The way he said her name, emphasizing the pronunciation in their native tongue made her shift a bit. It was annoying. She answers honestly despite his tone, “I’m about to be twenty six, so a family would be nice. But I want my degree first, I’m studying to be a registered nurse. I wanna help people in ways my grandfather wouldn’t allow me to help him.”

"A career nurse," he repeats, “How noble and selfless of you."

She raises her posture up a bit, “What is that supposed to mean?”

His dark eyes dragged over her figure again, “You’re pretty as fuck—enough to marry an old millionaire, who’d pamper you ‘till the day you die.”

She now becomes visibly irritated, “I’m not tryna’ be a housewife and pop out a bunch of kids if that’s what you think by looking at me.”

“And why not? That’s what you were designed to do. A body like that and such a pretty ass face. You’d be worth the fuck.” 

Yeah, that was it. She takes the steaming tea in front of her, chucking it directly in his face, letting the actual cup follow after. She stands as she spits, “A disrespectful ass mouth like that, I can see why you’d still be ‘wife searching at your grown age. Go fuck yourself.” 

She’s already stomping away, fire in her eyes as she mutters, “Fuckin’ stupid ass nigga—Kenji! Let’s go!”

Toji’s eyes widen for a moment as the steaming tea is splashed into his face, his skin searing against the liquid as it hits him, cup following after. He looked to see the large bodyguard standing by the porch, and even he was shocked. All he could do as he watched her fly past him was give Toji a helpless stare before muttering, “Yes ma’am.”

In the past years of her grandfather being sick, the next five days was the first time she’d heard him curse in the longest. His anger trickled over to guards, staff within the house, even his men who worked for him. He was pissed after hearing what his granddaughter had done. She stayed in the room if she wasn’t checking on him, and the moment she saw him ready to go off, she would grow wings and fly. He’d be fine eventually. 

She was now within the living room, palms and feet pressed along a mat as she did her morning stretches, talking on the phone with her mom to tell her of the situation. 

“Chile, I don’t know why you’re calling me. Kenji already told me what happened—had your grandfather called, the man would’ve written his own eulogy. Doctor said his pressure is at an all time high,” her mom said, chuckling into the phone. 

Sayuki sighs, “I wasn’t trying to give the man a heart attack.“

“I’m sure you didn’t, honey. But you know that first impressions matter.”

She brings herself to her knees, halting her stretching as she deadpans, “Momma. I understand the cultures around here, okay? Respect is big and all that shit. Jiji taught me that. Ole’ boy was the disrespectful one. I just gave him a taste of his own medicine. Or tea, to be specific.”

“I know he was being rude, but you know how important this is for your grandfather.” 

There’s a pause between them, before her mother’s voice comes through the line again, a bit softer this time, “It won’t hurt to try and get along with him. At least for your Jiji’s sake, yeah?”

“That’s if I ever see the bastard again. You know Grandpa said? That he made some valid points in our conversation—he thinks all I’m supposed to make of myself is the perfect wife,” she shakes her head, raising her leg out to stretch the muscles behind.

Her mother is silent for a few long moments, before sighing again. “You know your grandfather is stuck in his traditional ways. You can’t expect for him to just change this late in life. Your father was the same way—just wanted me to pop out babies.”

She knew her mom wouldn’t have much commentary on this, considering she’d lived as a housewife for years before her husband's passing. She couldn’t handle the life Sayuki’s father lived, being within the Japanese Mafia—but her father in law refused to be without his granddaughter. So she let her stay in Tokyo, and went to the states to set out her own dreams.  

Sayuki sighs, “How’s the army treating you, Sergeant? Where do they have you based right now?”

Her Mom chuckles slightly into the phone, an amused sort of sound, “I swear they have me stationed in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. Texas, in the middle of this town called Waco. The people here are good ‘ol bible-thumping country folk. I’m terrified.”

Sayuki laughs, “You’ wanted to be head honcho so bad, now they’ got you in places you’ve never been before.”

Her mother is quiet for a moment, still chuckling, before she speaks again. “The job’s more stressful than I imagined,” she says, “But I’m getting the hang of it. I’m stationed at the base now, working with the new guys and whatnot,” She paused for another moment, before she sighs and continued, “I really need to get stationed back in Tokyo, though. I miss you and your Jiji a lot, you know.”

She hates that feeling of tightness in her throat. She told her mom to live out her dreams with her being an adult, and that she would be fine under the protection of her grandfather. But she also needed the only parent she had left. 

“I miss you too, momma.” 

She then hears the sliding door open to the hallway, Kenji appearing with a bow as he greets, “Ohayou gozaimasu. Your grandfather would like to speak to you.” 

Sayuki sits on the floor fully as she raises an eyebrow, “He’s awake already?”

Her mom’s still on the phone, a soft hum coming from the line before she questions, “He’s not a morning person. You’ really gave him a heart attack, huh?” 

Kenji replies, “He seems to be fine. He’s awake and very much alive,” He glances at Sayuki and bows again, before saying, “His orders were to bring you to his room.”

“Alright momma, I’ll try to call you before you turn in your phone again. I love you, always,” she doesn’t want to hang up, but her grandfather could be an impatient man, especially if he was upset.

Her mother’s voice filters through the line again, a familiar, comforting sound. “I love you, too. Stay safe, okay?” 

Then, she’s gone, and Kenji turns his attention back to her. The big man just silently starts walking, obviously expecting her to follow.

Sayuki follows him down the hallway, making their way to her grandfather's bedroom. She sends off Kenji as she slowly opens the door, to be greeted by a housekeeper who’s nervously patting his face with a cold sponge. She tells her, “You can go. Thank you.”

The housekeeper immediately scurries off, taking the towel and bucket with her. Sayuki’s left alone with her grandfather now, who’s sitting up in bed, a newspaper on his lap. His eyes flicker up to her for a few moments, still sharp as ever.

“Do you come in peace?” She questions, sitting herself beside the bed, “I see you have the newspaper. You must be in a good mood.”

“The doctor said my pressures have risen,” he starts, his voice still surprisingly even, “But I am still breathing. If you hadn’t annoyed me so greatly, I would probably have another decade in my life.”

“Oh? So it’s my fault now? How about you’ put your lil’ gang members in check?” She crossed her arms.

Her grandfather’s eyes widened slightly at her blunt words, obviously surprised. He looks at her for a few long moments. Then, he shakes his head, “I taught you to respect men. Why can’t you be a little more…well… gentle? Polite?”

“I was soft and feminine like you want me to be. He’s the one that said he didn’t want to be married, and that I wasn’t even his type. He doesn’t even like black women,” she rambles. 

As she sees her grandfather’s face, she rolls her eyes as she corrects herself, “Okay—he ain’t say all that. But he did say he was only there for his father’s sake.”

“It doesn’t matter what he said. “I know that boy’s a bit arrogant. A little rude too. But family is important. He’s my right hand’s son.” 

His eyes narrow slightly as he looks at her, saying, “And you have no choice in whether you marry him. You’re getting older, Sayuki. Twenty-six is not young anymore. I’m not letting you leave this house unless you’re a wife.”

“Is this my death sentence? What did I do to deserve this treatment?” She flops herself on the end of the bed, “Have you’ no heart?”

Her grandfather simply rolls his eyes, his expression unchanging, “Don’t be so dramatic, Sayuki. You know how marriage works in this family. I had an arranged marriage, and so did your father. The men pick their wives.” 

He paused before leaning forward a bit in the bed, asking, “...Why are women so damn stubborn these days?”

“Cause this isn’t the fifties, that’s why!” She exclaims.

He takes a deep breath as he mutters, “Now if I become as dramatic as you and die right here on the spot, you’ll be very upset with me.” 

He lets a few minutes of silence pass before he says, “…With your father not here, I won’t have anyone to protect you when I’m gone, Sayuki.”.

She sits up a bit, hearing as he becomes serious. She comes closer to him on the bed as she lays her head on his shoulder, “I can take care of myself, Grandpa.”

Her grandfather takes her small hand into his large, calloused one, his fingers gently intertwining with hers. He sighs, “You may be a strong young woman, but you’re too reckless. It’s not safe in this world. No matter how prepared you are to defend yourself.” 

He squeezes her hand slightly, “When you asked me the regrets I have—it made me think, with the kind of family I have, who’s going to protect my Mago when I’m gone? The people that hate me, the people that won’t be able to hurt me because I’m gone, so they hurt you?”

Arranged marriage sounded silly to her, but with the family she had, she understood where her grandfather was coming from. He wasn’t doing this to force anything on her. He just wanted to make sure she was safe—even without him. 

She squeezes his hand, giving him a kiss on the cheek as she suggests, “Maybe I can talk to him. But he needs to apologize. If he doesn’t, I’m not agreeing to this, is that fair?”

Her grandfather grunts again, his expression unchanging as a soft sigh escapes him, “He’s not a man to grovel. And you’ve already left a bad first impression. He won’t apologize for anything. That’s how we raised them, “He pauses for a few moments before giving her hand a tight squeeze again. 

“....But I will speak to him.” He finalizes, his voice low.

“See! Don’t you feel better when you talk things out instead of being violent? A lot of your issues would’ve been solved better that way,” she gives him a smile.

Her grandfather grunts once more, his gaze fixed on the window away from her, “Violence is good when there’s nothing else to talk about. But I’m glad you feel better—because you’ll be going with him to fetch some groceries to cook dinner tonight.”

She immediately pulls her hand back, stepping off the bed as she says, “Huh? A meal? Who he’ think he is—Buddha?”

“Sayuki,” He warns. 

He takes a deep breath, before continuing to speak, “You’re going to go to the store. Then you’ll come back here and cook for him. And maybe by then, you’ll have managed to impress him with your lovely personality.”

“Why can’t Kenji just go with me? You want me and Toji to go, alone, as if I don’t want to put a fork up his ass? You said you don’t want me traveling to Kyoto without him anyways,” she crosses her arms.

“Gengo,” her grandfather snaps, “Just because I’m old doesn’t mean I won’t break your ass in two. Toji will go with you. I’m tired of arguing with you. I want to take a nap.”

“Well go take your old man ass nap, then!” She exclaims, “And now you’re not getting any of your favorite fruits!” 

She opens the slide door, shrieking as a tall frame stands on the side of the wall, instantly recognizing the cigarette that hangs between the dark pink lips she’d seen days before. 

She exasperates, “Great—this was a set up! I don’t like anybody in this house.”

Her grandfather chuckles gruffly, a low, amused sound, just as Toji takes a long drag of his cigarette. He glances her way, still leaning against the wall as he speaks, “Good to see you too. I can feel the love.”

“Shouldn’t you be somewhere recovering from third degree burns?” She continues walking, making her way back towards the living room, purposely walking fast in hopes that she’d lose him.

Toji pushes off the wall, easily catching up behind her as he questions, “Why are you so hellbent on avoiding me?”

“Hm, I don’t know—maybe cause you told me all I would be is a good fuck? You remember that?” She pushes the door open to the living room, stepping back onto her yoga mat.

“Yeah, I remember clearly.”

He glances over her, adding, “Although, you’re a lot more interesting than I thought you’d be when this all started.”

She sighs, “If you’re doing this for some brownie points from my grandfather, we can wrap this up quick as fuck, Fushiguro. I’m not sensitive, okay? But what you said hurt my feelings. I was being nice to you, even if I wasn’t keen on this arranged marriage thing in the first place. I need to finish stretching, so are we done?”

At her words, Toji takes a puff from his cigarette, before taking it out of his mouth and crushing it out. 

“I’m here to apologize.”

She crosses her arms over each other, raising an eyebrow at that,  “Are you saying that because someone asked you to?”

“Why were you so pissed about some words that came out of my mouth?” He questions, “You could’ve easily ignored them.“

“You don’t even know me. You assumed that I’m some airhead ass girl that’s looking to be sold to the highest bidder. Well I’m not. I have my own dreams and ambitions, none of them involving a man unless I decide that for myself.” 

Toji looks at her for a few moments in silence. He runs a hand through his dark hair, before speaking once more. 

“So I hurt your feelings.” he mutters. “And you’re not some airhead. Anything else I should know?”

His stare was intense at times, and it made her feel naked under the SKIMS army green romper she wears, headband and glasses pulling her hair out of her face. Facing him, she reaches down to grab for her ankles, stretching her legs out as she huffs, “That’s your form of an apology?”

He does take the time to watch her stretch, but doesn’t comment on it, just saying, “Goddamn, girl. I’m trying. I’ve never apologized to someone without a gun to my head.” 

He takes a step forward, his head lowered as he stares down, now practically upside down with her. 

“I have a habit of saying shit I don’t mean. So I’m sorry. You can throw some more scorching ass tea on me again if you want.”

She pulls her hair out of her face as she stands up, looking around the expression on his face. It’s the same—eyebrows low, waiting for a response. But it doesn’t lack sincerity.

 She sighs, leaning down as she begins rolling up her yoga mat, “I’m not gonna do that. My grandpa will throw me into a pit of fire if he hears I assaulted you again.”

He watches her roll up the yoga mat, “You’ still mad at me?”

She looks up at him, tilting her head as she questions, “Do you want me to be?“

“I don’t know.”

He glances down at her, eyes lingering for a moment on her exposed skin, before he returns his gaze to her face, “If you’re not mad, what are you?”

“Ready to take this long ass train ride to Kyoto,” she finalizes, making her way around him, “I need to go shower.”

“What, no invite?”

“And somehow you’ve managed to lose points again,” she dismisses, slamming the door shut to her bedroom. 

When comes out of her bedroom an hour later, she steps into the hallway to glance along the full body mirror—as she usually did. She pulled her dark hair behind her ear as it was in straightened layers, her usual makeup along her face that consisted of cat eyed extensions, her lip combo of brown and mauve, lower eyelid filled with the matching dark brown of her lips. Her leather jacket clung to her frame, showing off a bit of her midriff as her pants mimicked the tops material, hips desperately wanting to bust out the seams. 

She notices Toji along the wall, tilting her body to the side as she states to him, “I don’t know what shoes to wear.”

Toji’s eyes flicker her way, a brief, almost unnoticeable glance at her frame, then back to her face, then back to her frame. He’ll shamelessly admit that his jaw tightened, and maybe he felt his dick jump. 

“You’ asking for my opinion?”

“Jiji is the worst dressed man on the planet, and Kenji is hiding so—yes.” 

She eyes him in the mirror as he walks behind her, turning her head as she notices the look he gives her. She raises an eyebrow, “What?”

“You look good as fuck, you know that?”

“You’re not telling me what shoes I need to wear,” she almost pouts, “I wanna go before it hits noon!”

Toji doesn’t respond right away, just looking her up and down again, his gaze lingering for a few seconds on her hips, before he mutters, “You’re hard headed as hell. I said you looked good. I didn’t say what shoes you should wear. If it’s gonna make you hurry up, you should wear heels.”

“‘Kay’,” she turns around, making her way back into her room with a twist to her hips. She finds a pair of her Dior black pumps, knowing she’d be fine in those for most of the day as they were comfortable. She sprays herself of her vanilla scent, shaking her head from side to side, throwing her head back to fix her hair. 

“You don’t have to watch me, you know.”

He pushes off the wall again with his foot, moving toward her now. He’s a very imposing man, his form broad and tall. He’s at least a full foot and a half taller than her.

“My fault. I have a hard time looking away. You’ ready?”

She grabs her purse as she nods, “Mhm,” giving him a quick head to toe. He’s more simple in his clothes, a long black sleeve that hugs his muscular frame, belt, jeans and hefty boots along his feet, hair tossed around the sculpted sharpness of his face. Her eyes flick down to his wrist as she sees the ink hiding beneath the material, coming forward as she pulls it farther up to fully cover it, “The point of your Irezumi is that it’s supposed to be hidden.”

His wrist feels like hot iron under her fingertips. He can’t help but look down at her as she touches his wrist, her head slightly tipped back to look up at him. Fuck, she’s gorgeous from this angle. 

He raises an eyebrow as he grunts, “I know that,” allowing her to fix his clothing.

“I can see it on the back of your neck too,” she points out, reaching up, wrapping her fingers lightly in between his neck and back, “You should put a jacket on.”

The tightness on his jaw returns, his gaze fixed on her as his voice drops to a low murmur, “Are you gonna let go any time soon?”

She hesitates, her fingers still sitting on his upper back as she questions, “Am I making you uncomfortable?” She then fully pulls herself back, “I’m sorry.”

“Did I say that?” 

“No.”

“Then why are you apologizing?”

Before she can reply, he’s already going around her, heading down the hallway to pull the Harley Davidson leather jacket over his body, her eyes also taking notice of the M9 gun he places in the back of his pants. He nods his head in the direction of the door, and she follows after, not before quickly diving into the room to give her grandfather a kiss goodbye. 

The train ride had been…interesting for her to say the least. With it being the weekend, it was one of its busier days, the train compact with people to a point where they had to stand. Sayuki leaned her back against the window of the train as Toji hovered over her, hand gripping the bar up top. When the train came to a stop, everyone began slanting forward, trying to catch their weight on themselves. Toji’s body connected to hers, pressing his chest lightly against her nose to keep her from moving. 

She inhaled quietly, the scent of his cologne trapping her nostrils, his jaw touching the top of her head making her heart speed up a bit.

He tried not to be too obvious as he watched her from his view, but damn, she was pretty like this too. Under him like this. It felt like she belonged there.

It didn’t become any better the moment they arrived in the bustling streets of Kyoto. The cherry blossoms hung along the top of the buildings, brightly lit colored signs coaxing in their next customer. There was a feeling coming to him he’d never experienced before, watching as she politely spoke to people who passed her, talked up the people who worked within the stores, complimented each woman's outfit she saw. Hell, she’d even crouched down, sneaking the sample of food offered to her to a homeless cat mewling close by an alleyway.

Toji was starting to realize just how opposite their personalities were, but God, she had a certain…charm to her. He’d been silent, watching her with a blank expression as she interacted with everyone they passed, never breaking that smile. Toji was gruff, blunt, intimidating—didn’t bother to look at anyone twice. Yet she was the opposite in every way. How could they ever be compatible?

She makes her way into a smaller market, empty as she knew it was more expensive than the ones on the outside. But this was usually where she bought all of her fresh produce. She glances at the man at the counter, seeing as he flicks his eyes up to her, sitting himself up more straight—as if he had to keep his attention on her. 

She looks around, “Is there anything in particular you like to eat?” She questions, turning herself towards Toji who stays close to the front door, lighting a cigarette between his lips.

Toji takes a long puff from the cigarette resting between his lips, his dark eyes following her through the small shop.

He takes a moment before replying, “I like fish.”

His eyes glance over her form, her ass practically calling to him in those pants. She was sexy without even trying. 

“How about Sashimi? Are you okay with yellowtail?” 

She’s so concerned with his taste buds, Toji only seems to notice the grimace the man at the counter continues giving her.

He looks back at her, and while his eyes are still focused, his tone is a bit more softened as he replies, “Yeah, that’s fine,” taking another long breath from the cigarette between his lips.

“Okay,” she says softly, talking more to herself as she decides how she wants to cook the fish. When she has all of her ingredients, she comes up to the register as she sees the fruits are behind the counter. She greets, “Ohayo gozaimasu, do you have fresh strawberries by chance?”

“No strawberries today,” he doesn’t return her greeting, cutting straight to her question as it’s nowhere near friendly. 

She frowns a bit, “Are you sure? I come here for them often, the lady that works usually gives me a good amount.”

“I said we don’t have any,” he replies again, his eyes lingering over her, “Are you done?” 

He’s clearly not looking at her in a very favorable way, a look of irritation and disdain written on his face.

From Toji’s stance, he can see behind the counter, looking directly at a box of what looks to hold strawberries. And as he notices the man now glaring at him, he raises an eyebrow, pulling the cigarette down from his lips, blowing out a puff. When Sayuki notices this as well, she turns back to Toji, putting together that he may have known Toji from being a part of the Yakuza. The owners of this store had to be from a clan that wasn’t too fond of them. 

She then says, “We’re not coming here to cause any trouble, I just wanted my strawberries. I can buy a bundle of them?”  She offers, beginning to rummage her purse for the money.

“We don’t serve the likes of you people,” the cashier spits.

And from the way he looks at her in disgust, it feels personal. Her eyebrows lower against her face, hating the way that once again—her feelings are hurt. 

She sighs, “It’s fine. Let’s just go.”

Toji’s jaw clenches, his entire body stiffening. Something about the way her expression broke had his blood boiling.

“Go? Yeah, nah. I’m good on’ that.” 

When he pushes himself off the wall, he’s already standing in front of the counter. In one swift motion, the shriek from this man fills the entire store as Toji has him by his shirt, tugging him halfway over the counter. He fights against the one hand holding him in a effortless yet painful grip, shouting as Toji casually sighs, “Shut up,” raising his cigarette, ashing the man on his forehead. He then takes it back to his lips as he talks, “Now see, we didn’t even have to do all this,” removing the gun from the back of his pants, tapping it against the side of the man’s cheek.

Sayuki steps back, eyes wide as she panics, “Toji! It’s fine!” 

It’s like he doesn’t even hear her, his eyes fixated on the trembling man in his hands.

“Strawberries, right?” 

When the man replies with a stutter, “Y-Yes, sir,” Toji’s expression doesn’t soften, “You got ‘em in back?”

He nods his head quickly, whimpering again, “Y-yes, sir.”

The sight of that man that just had so much mouth for Sayuki, now stuttering and terrified in Toji’s hold, Sayuki can’t help the slightly scared giggle that stumbles from her lips, shocked at what she’s witnessing.

That single sound of laughter reaches his ears, catching his attention as he slightly turns to glance her way, “Oh you like that shit, huh?”

 When he looks back at the cashier, his voice drops even deeper, “Apologize to the pretty lady.” 

The man replies instantly, “Yes, yes! I’m so sorry!” 

Sayuki is still giggling, watching as Toji shoves the man back so hard that he knocks into the wall of objects behind him, nearly falling onto the floor. He presses his gun back into his pants, adjusting his jacket as he mutters, “‘Made me get all out of character,” before he says, “Go get the strawberries before I actually get mad.” 

The man scrambles on shaky legs, pulling out the box of fruit behind him as he says, “T—Take them! Take everything you need!”

Sayuki politely takes two cartons as she gives him a smile, “Thank you,” as Toji tugs the register closer to him, knocking his fist down to it, watching as it opens, pulling cash out of the object. 

She shakes her head, “Now you’re doing too much.” 

“They don’t call me a criminal for nothin’, baby,” he puffs out some smoke, “You’ hungry?” 

She sighs, keeping her complaints to herself as she puts all her groceries within her tote bag as she sighs, “Starving, actually.”

“Good.”

He takes one last drag from the cigarette, before flicking it to the floor, watching as the man flinches, thinking he was gonna toss it towards him. 

“C’mon,” he gruffs, “It’s on me. Or him, in this case.”

They make it to a restaurant a couple of blocks down, Sayuki placing the strap of her tote against the chair behind her, giving a polite smile as the waiter places the food down against the table. She glances up at Toji, taking the mini slice of pizza as she questions, “Are you gonna smoke in every building we go to?”

“You gonna bother me every time I do?” he shoots back.

She scrunches her nose, “You’re supposed to be nice to me. Wanna bite of my pizza?” She offers, raising the slice towards him.

He raises a dark eyebrow, a huff of a laugh leaving him as he leans forward, his jaw parting slightly as she brings the pizza to his mouth, biting into it. When she pulls her hand back, he chews silently before replying, “I didn’t shoot that dumbass in the store, and I just took a bite of your food without arguing. I’m Peter Pan at this point.”

The laugh that falls from her mouth is bubbly, wrapping her full lips around her straw. Once again, she’s back to noticing him staring at her, she raises an eyebrow as she says, “Why are you always just looking?”

“Can’t help it. Got some pretty ass lips.”

“Quit flirting,” she moves her hair behind her shoulder, glancing down at her phone to distract herself from the warmth that comes along her face.

She then hears him remind, “You never told me how school was going.”

She peers her head up, “Why do you care now?”

He doesn’t even look phased by the question, “Can’t I ask? You’d rather I don’t show any interest in you?”

She sighs a bit, “I don’t think you’d know anything about it.” 

Toji’s eyebrows raise up at her response, “Why you’ said that shit like I’m uneducated?” 

He leans in closer, his knee now touching hers beneath the table, the feeling intimate, “Talk to me.” 

She tilts her head, trying to adjust her knee away from his, but it’d be too obvious to completely shift the way she sits. So she leaves it there. 

“I’m tryna’ get my Bachelors in Science. Meaning I have to take some stupid ass, hard ass class like Pathophysiology. They teach shit like that in the Mafia handbook since you know everything?” 

“You don’t need a degree to know how the human body works, baby,” he replies, “Seen a lot of dead bodies in my time.”

“Gross,” she dismisses, “Hearing that makes it all the more worse. This is harder than college advanced math for me. Maybe I’m just stupid or something,” she presses her lips together, leaning her head in the palm of her hand, placing her elbow against the table. He can see the change in her expression, the way her mood visibly drops. 

“Baby,” he sighs, her heart fluttering a bit at the pet name, “You can’t really think I was callin’ you stupid.”

“I know you weren’t. It’s just— I’ve taken this class twice, and I’m someone who believes shit happens for a reason—maybe this isn’t my path, cause I’d be able to pass if it was meant for me, right?” She blinks, her lashes fluttering heavily.

“Or,” he interjects, “Maybe you need to learn how to ask for help instead of just assuming you’re incapable of passin’.” 

He can see her brain processing, a slow flicker of shock and confusion in her gaze. When she just stares at him, silent, he confirms, “You don’t gotta deal with all your problems alone.”

“This is where you just say I’m pretty and my brain is big,” she rolls her eyes, picking a pepperoni slice off her pizza, chewing against it to distract herself.

“Baby, I’ll call you pretty whenever you want. But I’d like it even more if you’d admit you’re smart without me havin’ to remind you.”

“My dad was really good at math, it must’ve skipped a generation,” she gives a weak smile, a tinge of sadness hidden beneath her expression. 

Toji’s jaw clenches at the sight of such a weak smile on her face. Something about how sad she looked bothered him, and maybe he wanted to get back that bubbly expression she’d just had moments ago. 

“You’re smart, Sayuki. It never skipped a generation.”

She tilts her head a bit as she replies, “I think you’re just saying that cause you have a lil’ crush on me.”

“Damn, guess I’ve been figured out.” 

That actually makes her giggle, and to see that return to her face does make him relax a bit. She then offers, “Want me to feed you again?”

He glances down at the offer, looking back up at her, his head tilting a bit as he grins, “You miss my mouth already? Greedy ass.”

The stark contrast of their first interaction up until now was nothing that Sayuki had ever expected. She wasn’t the one to believe in fairytales, or have these high hopes when it came to the possibility of a relationship. But this was something she hadn’t felt with anyone in a while—romance. 

Maybe she was starting to like him— maybe she was love bombing him. She wasn’t entirely sure. She noticed small things, like anytime his stride was longer than hers, he’d slow down to walk more behind her. They were now walking through the quiet night in between two buildings, planning to make their way back to the train. 

When she caught onto his purposeful walking tactic, she took hold of his hand, tugging him forward a bit as she became annoyed, “You can walk faster.”

“You keep tuggin’ on my arm like that, I’ll think you’re desperate for me to touch you or somethin’.”

She rolls her eyes, “Don’t be cute. I’m not.”

But as she feels his long strides slow down, she turns behind herself, now feeling as her back is being lightly pressed along the wall. Her head tilted up as his jaw reached her nose, his body having to hover for her comfortability.

He places sturdy hands on either side of the wall, pinning her in place. His eyes hold a dangerous gleam in them, the playful attitude continuing as he looks down to her. 

“You’re quiet. Tell me what you’re thinking.” 

He leans down, his face a lot closer than before, the distance miniscule. 

She takes a deep breath, kneeling her face closer to his, scanning the dark grey of his eyes. She then admits, “I um…I had a nice time with you today.”

“You did, huh?” he muses, “Good.” 

She smacks her lips at that, turning her face away. One of his hands leaves the wall, moving to grip her chin between his thumb and pointer finger, tilting her face to look back at him. He hums, “What other shit you wanna admit while you’re at it?”

“That I like you,” she blinks up at him, “And…that I hope you saying you liked me too in the restaurant wasn’t just talk.”

His hand moves up further, his fingers moving along the skin of her cheek slowly, “How about you quit doubtin’ me?”

One thing he’s good at doing is making her easily irritated. Her eyebrows furrow as she looks at him, “Well why can’t you just say it again? You always gotta answer my responses with a question. You can just be so—“

Another thing she couldn’t stand about him—he was smooth. There should’ve been no way that he caught the rest of her words within his mouth, gripping her in a kiss to shut her up. His hand grasps the back of her neck, tugging her hair a bit to keep her head tilted up. A baby gasp pulled from her mouth, tugging at the bottom of his shirt to keep herself steady. His mouth was warm, tongue heavy, her eyes slowly fluttering shut at the taste of him.

And god, that gasp of hers was music to his ears, pushing his tongue further into her mouth in response as the hand once on the wall slid down to grip at her hip, using it to pull her against his body. It wasn’t rushed, instead slow, his tongue twisting slowly around hers, his teeth catching gently against her bottom lip in a way that couldn’t be an accident.

She’s so drowned within him, she has to reach up and clasp her fingers around his jaw, pushing his mouth back as she presses her forehead to his, breathlessly giggling, “We’re gonna miss the train…”

He leans forward again, and for a second, she thinks he’s going to push for another kiss, but his nose brushes against hers instead, his tone lower as he questions, “You’ that eager to go home?”

“I’m just—“

“Yo, Yakuza boy!”

They both halt, Sayuki pulling herself away as she looks to the end of the alleyway, seeing two men beginning to walk towards them. They weren’t familiar to her, but she had a feeling this was men from another clan. The way they walk towards them—it’s not inviting in the slightest. 

“We heard how you robbed the market a couple blocks down, thought we’d come politely ask for that money back.” 

She knew Toji wasn’t afraid. But in the sense of her being with him, she could see the way he lifted his head, glaring at the two. He lightly took her body within his arm and pushed her behind himself.

“We can do this shit later. I got a woman with me,” he warns, “Your cashier boy pissed me off, I was teaching him a lesson.”

The two men glance between each other, before going back to Toji, taking another couple of steps forward. One of them grins, his tone mocking as he responds, "And? We didn't ask for the life story."

Sayuki grips her fingers against the jacket he wears, trying to pull him back as she muffles, “Let’s go, Toji. We aren’t in Tokyo—“

“Leaving so soon?” 

She turns, seeing another man coming from the opposite end of the alleyway. They were now surrounded, and this one carried a crowbar within his palm.

Toji tenses visibly, his arm tightening around her as he glares at the three men surrounding them, his eyes flickering from each one.

“You’ got a fuckin’ death wish?”

“I think you do,” one of the guys counters, “You know this is our turf. Now shit has to get a little ugly in return. We’ll just strip you down, call it even, cool?”

Sayuki steps from behind him a bit, coming towards the man with the crowbar as she quickly says, “I don’t mind bringing the stuff I took from the market back. It’s no problem—“

But just in that millisecond, it’s as if someone cut the lights off in her brain. She doesn’t register the knuckles that crush against her face until she slams against the ground, her hair falling over her jaw that throbs the minute she feels pain register. She grunts, her ears ringing, palm dragging against the cement to try to bring herself to reality as she can now hear fighting above her.

Everything seems to go silent for Toji when he watches her fall to the ground, a heavy rush of red flooding his vision that he’s never felt before. When he sees her hands desperately gripping the ground beneath her trying to get up, a voice in his brain snaps, and he’s charging at the guy that hit her before any sort of rationality can make an appearance. All three men are surrounding him as he swings, forcing his weight down into every punch he throws.

Within seconds, one of the men is clutching his abdomen, another bent over on the ground, and the third—crowbar in hand—struggling to stay upright as he raises the bloody metal weapon in the air to swing down against Toji’s head.

Her vision is a bit blurry, hand trembling as she reaches for the wall close to her, eyes opening as she begs, “T—Toji…stop…” so quiet that she knew he couldn’t hear it. 

She could see as he picked up the man bent on the ground, beginning to plummet his fist into his face. He won’t stop.

She can hear the blood against his knuckles, the crack of bone shifting beneath his punch, the small grunt each time he swings forward. Her body feels cold, a sense of fear exhilarating her skin like no other. Seeing him mercilessly beat this man was a reminder of who he could be—who he was.

“Toji…” she pushes her voice out more, “…Please stop! You’re going to kill him…”

As she pleads, the punches continue. She watches as the man with the crowbar drops the weapon, pulling a pocket knife from his pants, rushing over as he lunges into Toji’s side. That makes Sayuki almost sober up, watching as he drops the man in his hands, hitting the ground with him.

Toji grunts out in pain, his hand moving to grip his side. He can feel the way more blood pours from the wound, soaking the side of his pant leg and jacket.

An anger she hadn’t expected seeps through her entire body. Even with a throbbing jaw, a weary vision, she scurries forward as she grabs the crowbar the man originally held, raising it as she swung harshly at him, watching as he slammed against the wall from impact. She reaches within the back of her jacket, pulling a bigger pocket knife as she jabs it within his side, using her strength to hold him against the wall, ignoring the curse he lets out. 

She grits her teeth, “Now you’ll both have matching scars,” twisting the knife within his body, ignoring his painful shout.

Toji pushes himself up with a low grunt at the sound of her voice, his hand still covering the spot where he was now bleeding, pissed at how own vision was becoming blurry, hearing the shouts of the man, seeing his shadow glide by as he took off from the alleyway, knife still within his side.

Sayuki throws the crowbar within her hand, rushing over to Toji as she drops to her knees in front of him, pressing her hand against his wound as her eyes chaotically scatter over his pained look, “Hey—hey—look at me…” Her own hand becomes painted red, “Shit!”

Toji’s eyes are screwed shut for a couple of seconds as her hand presses against his, body flinching at the pain. But when he registers her voice again, his eyes snap open. The feeling of her hands against his skin is enough to help clear the darkness that was starting to take over his mind. His hand moves from his side to grab hers.

“I’m fine,” he mutters.

“No you’re not,” she croaks, her vision returning to a blur, clearing as warm tears slide down her freckled cheeks, “You’re not. I’m calling for help, okay? P—Please stay awake,” she’s holding his wound, clutching the side of his neck, her heart beating outside of her chest.

Toji’s eyes look at her, seeing the worry across her face. He knew he had to stay awake, not only for her but for his own damn sake if he didn’t want to bleed out in some alleyway— her touch on his neck was making it near impossible for him to keep his head up.

 He huffs out a short breath, “Don’t…call anybody.”

“Don’t be fucking stupid right now!” She softly panics, fingers trembling as blood rushes over the screen of her phone, dialing someone, anyone at the moment. The phone slides farther away from them as she tries to pull him up, desperately taking his jacket off to press it against his stab. 

She’s rambling in panic, “They hurt you—I’m so sorry…”

Toji feels his balance stagger a bit as she pulls him up, the action forcing a hiss of pain from his mouth. He leans his weight against the wall, his eyes flickering to the phone on the ground. His jaw clenches, the thought of any of this being her fault pissing him off, “S—Stop apologizin’…not now…”

“I can’t,” she cried, terrified at the sight of him, her face entirely red, breathing unleveled as her chest heaved.

Toji’s heart twists at the sound of her crying. He wants to reach up to wipe her tears, but the pain in his side makes it nearly impossible. 

“Don’t cry,” he practically pleads with her, the thought of her crying any harder making his head spin.

In Toji fashion, he raises his free hand up to reach for her body, pulling her close to him. He wasn’t dramatic, but seeing his vision blur might’ve had him tense, and if he did pass out, he had to make sure she was still there. 

He grits out, “You…had a knife on you this whole time?” 

She blinks through her tears, sniffling as she registers the question. She nods her head, trying to keep herself calm. Even stabbed, he was able to form some type of amusement, a tired huff of a chuckle blowing against her face as he said, “You really are my fuckin’ wife.” 

She can’t help but laugh in return, the weakness of his voice making her cry harder. Toji couldn’t help it, holding her felt good, especially in his current condition. His hand moves to tangle within the ends of her hair, pulling her closer to his chest as he leans his head back.

He couldn’t tell how much time passed as the lights of Kenji’s Cadillac Escalade illuminated the dark alleyway. But it didn’t matter, he’d passed out—Her touch being the last thing he could feel.

                                     𝓐ᥫ᭡

SAYUKI LOOKED WITHIN THE MIRROR, head in her lap as the housekeeper continued to press ice along her bruised jaw, tuning in and out of her grandfather's chastising. Even in sickness, even on his deathbed, the man had a voice on him. 

She sighed, “You’re going to run your blood pressure up if you keep yelling like that, Jiji.” 

He makes a clicking noise with his tongue, the action clearly disapproving. His eyes glared at the bruise on his granddaughter’s face.

“Of course I’m going to raise my goddamn blood pressure. You were assaulted. I’m going to have those bastards heads sent back to their families!”

“Me and Toji stole from a market in Kyoto,” she reminds, “We didn’t know the store belonged to a different turf.”

“I don’t care where you were—“

He grits the words out between his teeth, his eyes narrowing. Kenji, standing in the doorway, gives the older man a look telling him to relax. The old man huffs, closing his eyes for a moment.

“How does your face feel?”

“Like I fell off my bike, Ojiichan,” she softly replies, “Is Toji alright?” Her patience is wearing thin, no one telling her any updates of him since they took him down to the basement, calling along their underground doctor.

The older man sighs, “The doctor stitched him up. It appears he didn’t lose that much blood…he was lucky,” he grumbles, his eyes flickering back to her face, “You two should’ve known better. We don’t need another incident like—“ 

He stops himself, not wanting to bring up the past. He then says, “He’ll be in one of the guest rooms tonight. You should go check on him. I would like to go to sleep.”

She knows he’s upset, but she doesn’t want to make it any worse. She leans down as she gives him a kiss on the cheek, bowing as she allows the housekeeper to get him ready for bed. She gave herself time to relax, showering off the blood on her hands and body, throwing an oversized tee on herself, slipping along her house slippers as she goes in search of the guest bedroom along the opposite side of the house. It’s dim within the hallway, quiet as she pads her feet against the floor. She doesn’t know why she feels nervous. She stands in front of the sliding door, halting herself there as she takes a quiet breath. She knocks along the wooden part, not wanting to intrude.

Toji is sitting at the edge of the bed, shirtless as he looks over his stitched up wound. He had scars all over him, but the newest one was different.

The doctor was right—One wrong move and he could’ve died. That thought makes his jaw clench.

He huffs out a breath, replying, “Come in.”

She slides the door open, closing it behind herself as she looks over him, now seeing his Irezumi face to face. The colors strike upon his skin, body painted in ink from the top of his back to his tailbone, traveling all across his arms. It’s like he wears another shirt. Even through the ink, she can see the stitches along his side. She comes forward as she kneels herself in front of him, placing a gentle hand close to his injury as she asks, “How does it feel?”

Toji’s eyes watch her as she moves before him, taking in all of her features in that oversized shirt and her house slippers. Her face is bare, freckles prominent, dark hair curly and damp, stretching down her back as she’d just gotten out of the shower. He had never seen her look so small —maybe because she rarely looked so vulnerable.

He reaches out to place his hand on top of hers, his eyes flickering to the sight of his wound, his expression showing how bothered he was. 

“Hurts like a motherfucker.”

He immediately catches hold of the bruise against her jaw, grunting to her, “Tell me it hurts. Don’t lie to me.”

“It doesn’t,” she promises, “I’m fine.”

Toji makes a disapproving noise in the back of his throat. He brings his other hand to her chin, gently turning it to see her from a different angle in the light. 

“I know you’re pissed off, but I’d rather you just say that you’re glad I’m okay,” she tries to lightly joke, “My grandpa’s given me enough shit about my injury.”

His head cocks to the side as he gives her a look, “You seem to know me already.”

His grip on her chin is still tight, his thumb softly moving across the skin, “You have no idea how pissed I am that this shit happened….all because of me.”

She exhales, her mind flashing of memories she didn’t want to be reminded of. She rubs her thumb across his arm, flicking her eyes up as she admits, “The moment I saw you on the ground…it just—it made me remember how I felt…seeing my dad like that.” 

She hates that she feels her body go cold, finding it so hard to talk about this. 

“It happened all the same—walking from the market, being trapped by members from another clan. They stabbed him, killed him—enjoyed how I cried for them to stop.” 

She can feel the tears in her eyes. She swipes her fingers under her cheeks, feeling her hands trembling as she shudders, “I just…I was so scared,” she tremors, “You can’t do shit like that, Fushiguro—“ she's hyperventilating at this point, “I can’t lose someone else like that…” she brings her hands to her face, sharply inhaling as she full on cries.

Toji feels his chest shift at the sound of her broken voice. Seeing her cry because of him, seeing her so terrified—it does something to him.

He pulls her from her kneeled position to place her in his lap, his arms wrapping around her body to hold her close. He didn’t say a word for a while, letting her cry into his bare chest as his voice lowered, “I’m sorry.”

She cries into his neck, clutching him tighter, feeling all of her emotions pouring through her body. Her cries are then encapsulated by his mouth as he grunts, “C’mere,” pulling her into a kiss, the mixture of her mouth trembling beneath his making him groan.

It’s messy. Her tears mixed within their kiss. Her body shaking between his, her sobs breaking against his lips as he continues to kiss her. Toji felt a pang in his chest at the action, his arms pulling her body closer to his, fingers tightening around the shirt she wore. His injured body ached, but having her so close to him like this was worth it.

Toji’s hand moves to the side of her face, pulling her in for a deeper kiss, tongue dragging her mouth around with his. She tasted like warmth, a home that he never knew.

His free palm comes under her shirt, gripping the skin of her ass to twist her back onto the bed, body now hovered above hers. She quickly hesitates against his mouth, “Your stitches, Fushiguro…” pressing her hand along his chest, not wanting to hurt him.

“Did I say you hurt me?” 

“No—“

“So give me your mouth, I want you bad as fuck right now,” his nose nuzzles against her neck, the ticklish pleasure making her eyes roll back slightly.

She pulls face down to meet him, bringing her lips close to his mouth as she says softly, “Go slow, please…” pressing their noses together, breathing hesitantly against his mouth.

Toji’s face darkens, his eyes looking intensely into her own as his pupils dilate. He wasn’t exactly a gentle man—but he wanted to try for her sake. 

He clutches her by her neck as he pulls their lips back together, head knocking back in a motion as he kisses her, the weight of his body overpowering even as he tries to be soft. His hand presses against the bare skin of her hip, dragging his thumb along the goosebumps forming. When Sayuki’s eyes flutter open, she flicks them up to the mirror above, engraving the ink along his back in her brain, locking her fingers into the back of his hair to have his mouth fall more into hers, dropping her lower lip to release a shaky breath.

Toji’s hair was soft between her fingers while his touch was firm along her hip. His tongue flicks out to catch her mouth just before it leaves his.

She reaches below herself as she arches her back off of the bed, face warm as she pulls the end of her shirt upward, peeling the material from her skin. To see his glare at the sight of her, she pulls his shoulder down to press her chest to his, hating how he stared.

“Don’t do that,” he grunts, raising himself back up, pulling one of her hands above her head as he slips his fingers through hers, eyes burning at the sight of her bare skin. Her brown nipples, caramel skin, she’s glowing beneath the dim light of the bedroom.

His mouth travels, sucking her nipples in between his full lips, her body arching towards him the more he lowers himself. His arm holding one of her hands keeps her in place, her body wanting to pull away, all while wanting to pull closer to him.

Toji’s tongue is rough and wet against her, tracing the skin of her neck line and collarbone. He wanted more of her—all of her. Her taste and her body makes his head spin. 

His body, firm and muscular keeps her pinned against the bed, her chest rising and falling heavily as he kisses down her stomach. Toji grumbles against her, biting the skin along her hip, “I can’t fuckin’ get enough of you.”

The sound of his voice makes her breathing become heavy, her thighs shuddering as he makes out with the skin of her leg, swirling his tongue up to her ankles, kissing along her feet—he was everywhere. It makes her grip the material of the sheet beneath her, his mouth gliding down to the back of her thigh, making her shakily release, “Toji…”

He loves the sound of his name on her lips, almost as much as he loves the taste of her skin. Her body shivers beneath his touch, her toes curling as he leaves a trail of kisses all the way back up her leg. 

He growls against her, “Say my name again,” he pleads, “Say it.”

His large frame is able to keep the intertwine of their palms together as lowers himself down, locking his other palm against the back of her thigh, tugging her lower half even closer. Her heart beating in her ears nearly implodes the moment she feels his mouth drag up the folds of her pussy that keep her clit hidden, and she full on gasps, the sound shuddering as her head knocks back against the pillow, breathlessly whining out, “T—Toji!…”

She’s warm and wet—thighs shaking as he holds her by the ankles, locking her knees against the sheets of the bed, tugging her down to meet the lap of his tongue. It’s flat against the nub of her clit that swells at the connection, her arousal collecting against his jaw, Sayuki’s skin trembling involuntarily as he’s already slurping.

She couldn’t remember the last man in between her legs. But Toji knew exactly what he was doing. She wants to snap her legs together, warmth forming along her cheeks as she desperately reaches for his hair, taking the air out of the room with her pouty gasps. His hands grip her ankles tighter, the spread of her legs making his mouth become deeper, Toji grunting as his nose pressed into her slick folds, tip of his tongue circling the sensitive bud before sucking it gently between his lips, giving opened mouthed kisses. 

"’Pussy never tasted like this,” he groans against her heated flesh, his voice low and husky with desire, “I could eat this shit all fuckin night." 

He’s back to lapping at her, alternating between long, slow strokes and quick drags, almost lost within her taste.

She shudders, “W—wait— baby—“ the pet name falls from her lips naturally, although she’s shy to release it, another pant coming from her as he raises her legs right in front of her face, closing them in so she isn’t able to see him eating away at her. 

She whimpers as her knees press a bit to her chest, dragging her nails against the skin of her thigh, laying her head against the pillow as she forces herself to fully relax. Her eyes flutter shut as she whines again, “Go slow, baby…” she keeps reminding him, “Gonna cum if you keep doing that…”

A deep growl vibrates through his throat, “Sensitive as fuck,” the vibrations sending pleasant tingles through her wet heat as he continues his assault. He’s pushing his mouth deeper, swirling his tongue around languidly, slow in his speed, weight in his efforts. He suckles the sensitive nub greedily, his lips sealing around it as he applies just the right amount of pressure.

The way he listens, his mouth runs off against her as he grunts, grinding her hips to lead back onto his tongue, “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, baby—fuck,” sucking her pussy so sensually into his mouth, the sounds it creates—she does the worry of her pleas as her eyes come down, watching as she gushes unexpectedly into his mouth. Her upper body arches up as she trembles, gasping deeply within her throat as she cums.

A moan flies from her lips when she feels him spank her, leaning up to capture the broken sounds she makes, dragging his palms along the back of her knees, already locking her legs over his wide shoulders. Her mind is within a pleasured frenzy, and she has to tug her fingers back into gripping his hair, giving herself a sense of control as she pants again, “S—Slow, baby…please…”

Toji was anything but slow, his mind hazy and cloudy as he felt his body throb with need. She was soft—like everything he could’ve ever needed.   

His lips, wet and lush, move against her, a small grunt leaving his mouth, “I hear you,” he mumbles against her skin like a prayer,  his hands gripping her waist to pull her further against him. Her eyes knocked down to him removing his pants, hearing the slap of his tip kiss his abdomen briefly—it’s heavy, smacking politely against her clit, but the size made it impolite. 

He pulls his mouth back from hers, pressing their foreheads together to listen to her breathing, pleas within the music of her voice. It’s as if time halts itself, Toji taking her free hand and locking it back above her head with his, his other hand wrapping along her ankle, pressing it farther into the bed. His face frowns atop of hers, keeping a focused attention as his tip nudges in between her sensitive folds—Her lower body aches with a rush of pleasure as he sinks himself in, mixed with an erotic pain she hadn’t felt in so long. Her eyes fall shut as her head falls back into the pillow, her body shuddering as she whimpers, twisting his hair within her fingers as she knocks her forehead back to his. 

Their lips brush along each other as he rolls his hips forward, spreading her legs wider, it makes her stutter out a whimper again, “Baby—I can’t—Mmmph,” squeezing his palm as he holds her down, feeling as she tries to escape. 

“‘Not even in your shit for ‘real, baby,” he grunts against her lips, “Make this dick yours, you got more to take.” 

She moans brokenly at his voice, pulling his mouth down towards her throat, “M—move….”

Toji’s head drops into her neck, his teeth dragging against the spot where a violet bruise laid. Her cries were pretty, but her moans were prettier. 

He holds her in place as he pulls his head back to glance at her face, her skin flushed with heat. 

“It’s mine now, huh?” he asks, his voice low.

Her face is warm, pulling his mouth back to hide her face within his neck, sucking the skin there as she pitifully gasped in response to him grinding himself forward, feeling an arrogance pooling within his body.

Toji groans against her, his ego growing even more as he feels her mouth against his neck. She’s marking him just as much as he’s marking her, his head feeling fuzzy for more than one reason. He moves a hand to her jaw, his fingers gently holding her chin between his forefinger and thumb to force her face to his, “Let me see that pretty ass face.”

Her teary eyes blink up at him, bringing her tongue forward as she slides it along his mouth, essentially begging for a kiss.

Her tongue against his makes something in his brain short-circuit, his eyes closing as he opens his mouth and gives in to the plea, chuckling in between, “‘Needy as fuck for my mouth, even now.” 

It’s hot, wet and messy, both of them pressing their lips together to taste each other in a way that will never be enough. 

She whimpers to him, “Don’t laugh at me…” dragging her nails lightly along his back, trying not to form her mouth into a pout.

Toji’s eyes open in time to see the *pout* against her lips, he can’t help but release a low chuckle again at the sight of it. 

“I’d never,” he grunts, leaning in close enough that their noses brush together, a small grin on his face, “I need you too, baby. Talk to me.”

Her voice is small, her panting heavy within her chest as she keeps her nose brushed against his, admitting to him, “It f—feels good…”

Toji’s cheek presses further into hers, his face becoming stoic again, a sense of hunger returning. He’s gentle with his touch, his mind completely focused as he absorbs himself in her pleasured noises. 

“Yeah? Not hurtin’ you?” he asks, his voice gruff in her ear, his teeth nipping at the skin of her earlobe.

She shakes her head, pressing a soft kiss along his lips as she whimpers, “Just squeezing too hard on my wrist, baby…”

His grip instantly loosens from her wrists as her admission. He curses to himself, “Sorry,” he apologizes, rubbing his fingers along the skin to ease the pain from his large hands.

Feeling his attempts to be soft—it made her heart swell. A man that wasn’t emotional, wasn’t soft in the slightest, was trying just for her. It’s like crashing waves of pleasure rush her stomach as he rocks himself forward, making her deeply gasp, “R—right—t—there…”

The sound of the gasp mixed with the pleasure in her voice made Toji groan, his hips jerking against hers. He wanted her to be full of pleasure, wanted every inch of her to feel him—but the patience he had, it was leaving.

She blinked before she knew they were switching positions, trembling as she felt him smack her ass again, grunting to her, “On your stomach.”

This was…different. She’s now against her belly, chest to her back as his body hovered above. He clutches her neck from behind—his mouth is now against her ear, still using his free hand to hold her fingers against the sheets. He sinks his dick in, the heaviness of her ass clapping along his skin— her face contorts, her mouth lightly dropping as his hips become connected with the back of her thighs, tightening his palm against her throat.

His hand is firm against her throat, holding it in an intimate way that controls her. It’s possessive.

His mouth is hot against her ear, his voice a growl against her skin, “‘Just gonna have to take it,” he grunts, voice heavy and full of meaning as his hips drop down against hers, hand holding her in place, “‘Need you to feel me, baby. You feel it?” 

She knew he wouldn’t be able to be gentle for long. Here it was, that cocky, dominant side he’d been holding back. The sounds she makes—they’re loud, high-pitched. She’s mewling with each stroke as he swirls his hips down, Sayuki’s eyes rolled back, listening to the sounds their skin creates against the room, arching deeper into the bed as she embarrassingly moans, “Oooh, shit. Baby—I feel you…”

He grunts in response, his teeth biting her ear as she moans. She felt so tight around him. He’s not pulling halfway out like before—he’s now pulling back until his tip is halfway inside, sharply driving back in, watching arousal squelch more and more, filling to the brim to drip against his balls. He presses his body against hers, his chest flush against her back, moving his hand to the side of her face to hold her head in place as he growls in her ear, “‘Makin’ a fuckin’ mess, baby. Can’t even think straight anymore, huh?”

Her head is leaning back against his shoulder, tilting her eyes up to look up within the mirror on the ceiling as he clutches her jaw. She watches the muscles of his back flex, the color of his tattoos all along his skin, she shudders, gasping, “Yeahh, c—can’t think…”

He catches her gaze in the mirror, watching his body, the way his muscles were flexing. She’s staring at him, him—and the action makes his brain feel like it’s overheating. 

“You lookin’?” he groans, her voice wrecked as his grip on her jaw tightens.

She’s clawing at the sheets beneath her, inhaling deep, gasping dangerously as she whines, “Y—Yeah….don’t stop. Don’t stop…” she feels tears brimming within her eyes, a pleasure erupting within her body she’d never felt before.

She's sniffling, trembling, a small sob pulling from her lips, reaching behind to clutch for his hair again, pulling his mouth down to her throat. He’s cooing in her ear, “I know, baby.”

She drags her fingers into his scalp as she turns her head, “Kiss me,” she begs, rolling her hips back, “Please…”

Her back is arched against him, her skin flushed and glistening with sweat, watching the way her ass recoils against his skin—It drives him wild.  

His nose slides against her face to reach for her mouth, his tongue slipping past her lips, the kiss filthy and raw. He grunts to her, “Gonna fuckin’ marry you, gonna’ kiss you like this at our fuckin’ wedding.” 

He chuckles against her shuddering body, watching as she holds onto him for dear life. He won’t stop talking, “You never answered my question. This shit mine, huh?”

She’s full on crying, so wrapped up in the pleasure he gives her— her cheek is along the sheet of the bed, his body following down with hers, pressing his cheek against her jaw, dropping his hips down, earning a squeal in response. She groans, letting the sound drag into a loud moan, clutching her hand over her mouth as she softly cries, “I’m yours, fuck…don’t s—stop…”

His. She's his. The thought is almost his undoing, his heart beating heavily against his chest as he feels her crying, her body clinging to him like she’s lost if he leaves her. 

Her voice is broken as he speaks, a whine from the back of her throat as she tightens around him, “You hear me? I’m gonna marry your ass. Never gonna’ fuckin’ leave. Always gonna fuck you like this.”

He watches her tears stream down her face from the mirror above him, a dark desire stirring within him. It’s a gorgeous sight—her completely and utterly ruined from his touch. 

He grunts into her ear, “You gonna’ say yes?”

His palm locks around her parted mouth, sliding his fingers on her tongue, using the leverage to yank her back, skin applauding like gunshots within the room. The scent of his body is all around her, she’s moaning, turning her head back to look at him, “Yes ...yes…”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

“You mean it?”

She can feel her hips falling into his, body becoming exhausted as she trembles, the scream that attempts to release from her lips inhales into a gasp, pulling her mouth down to muffle her sounds as she softly cries, “Mean it, Toji…”

Her words leave her in a whimper, the sound mixed into a sobbed moan, Toji can’t think—He feels like he’s on fire. The pleasure, emotions that course within their body come together in another kiss, her entire body spasming beneath him as she orgasms. Her sobs, her trembling, he can feel it, smell it, taste it. 

He whispers in her ear as he holds her, groaning as he releases with her, his voice completely wrecked, “Fuck—I got you, baby.”

There’s nothing left but their shaking bodies, their tangled limbs wrapped together, panting breaths, and the sound of the two against each other. He can’t get his arms to leave her. 

She grazes her nails along his arm, trying to take control of her breath as she whispers, “Gonna’ put me in a headlock if you told me any tighter…”

He loosens his grip, shifting to turn her body to face him without separating. He’s still inside her, and he won’t budge. He wipes his thumb along the tears on her face, “My bad, pretty.”

She frowns, “When’d you get soft on me? Didn’t know I’d have such a sweet bean of a husband,” she giggles, seeing him raise his eyebrow at that.

He hates that something in his heart melts at her words—but just like a man—he has to circle back to another point of her sentence. 

“Just when I was gonna’ be nice and ask what size ring you wear,” he smacks his lips, Sayuki gasping as he wraps his fingers along the back of her neck, pressing her face down into the sheets, “Now’ I gotta remind you who I am. Put that ass up, I’m not done with you yet.” 

[kumkaniudaku]

Me and Your Mama

Summary: Terry and Patrice learn more about their love through life changing news on New Year’s Eve.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 4,436

Warnings: Mentions of Pregnancy

Recommended Reading: Spoiled, Caught

Author's Note: We're at the end of Ficmas! Thanks for all the requests sprinkled in the middle. This has been a fun little ride and hope you feel fulfilled at the end of this one. Stay safe this New Year's Eve. See you in 2025.

Several mornings passed between Christmas, New Year's Eve, and their five-hour drive up north with no attempt to confirm Patrice's suspicion. She'd purposely avoided all conversation about it, preferring to push the thought to the back of her mind until she and Terry could no longer tiptoe around the growing elephant in the room. 

Moments after luggage was rolled into their downtown D.C. hotel room, the pair braced themselves for punishing winds and bitter cold in search of the nearest convenience store to pick up comfort snacks and three different pregnancy tests. Terry did the honors of selecting what he thought were the best options based on his research, while Patrice forced herself to take an interest in potato chips and snack cakes a few aisles over. 

She couldn't bring herself to engage. Talking about it, whatever it was, would make the dreams more real. And if what she dreamed wasn't true, she didn't know how she could pretend that all was well while her heart chipped and shattered inside her chest. So, she stayed away and let Terry put on his brave face for the both of them.

In the bright convenience store nearly empty as people prepared for a night out to celebrate the incoming new year, they felt like children caught doing something wrong instead of an adult couple on the precipice of discovering what the rest of their lives could look like. 

Terry mumbled through passive small talk with the smiling cashier, staying just vague enough in his answers to avoid the glaring topic of the day before ushering Patrice out of the automated sliding doors and back toward their home for the next few nights. 

Once they returned, neither of them spoke. Patrice slowly unpacked plastic bags filled with items, leaving the slender white boxes for last. 

She drug a fingernail across the box on top, then looked at Terry, who couldn't take his eyes off her. "I think I'm gonna pee by myself if that's okay." 

"That's cool," he answered, offering support with a weak smile. "I'll be out here if you need me."

Most of Patrice's time in the bathroom was spent staring at her reflection in the mirror. She slowly lifted the hem of her thick, cashmere sweater to examine her stomach, twisting side to side for the best angle. Nothing of note. The small bump that did exist was no different than any other day. At least, that's what she told herself as she ran her fingers along the slight curve. 

Unfolded instructions littered the bathroom counter, each saying a variation of the same thing: Pee, wait, have a minor panic attack, then check the results. Or something like that. Patrice's eyes were starting to cross from information overload. 

On the other side of the door, Terry stared out of the large bedroom window at nothing in particular as thoughts quickly ran in and out of his brain. He'd never considered being anybody's dad unless Patrice was on the other side of the fantasy. Maybe once or twice when other partners brought it up, but nothing concrete. Nothing this real, nothing that felt this right. 

Sure, it was quick. And sure, it was probably not a great idea to introduce a child into a relationship that was only recently recognized by the state as a legal union. Any boy, girl, or otherwise would be dropped into a marriage not much older than them and cared for by two humans still trying to understand life. But they'd be loved. They'd be showered in affection from sun up to sun down. He had no doubt about it. What greater joy than to hold a child that was half him and half the woman he loved with every fiber of his being? 

But he was only one part of the equation. Ultimately, Patrice was the deciding factor. Patrice and a collection of three pregnancy tests two minutes away from unveiling their fate.

The toilet flushing made Terry blink back into reality from daydreams of diaper changes and kindergarten graduations. He caught a glimpse of himself in the window's faultless glass before turning in enough time to see Patrice poke her head out of the bathroom for his attention. 

She fiddled with her fingers and rocked on her heels. "You can come in if you want." 

He nodded, careful not to appear too eager or unconcerned, and moved to join her for the wait. 

The soft click of the door closing sealed them into the room together. Terry silently shuffled into the room past Patrice to sit on the closed toilet lid and nervously ran his palm down the back of his head. He took a deep breath before looking over at Patrice, who'd gone back to obsessing over how her stomach looked beneath her clothes. 

"Hey," he spoke in a sweet, low tenor to avoid startling her. She looked over, eyes shining from suppressed tears, and found him looking at her with round doe eyes. He grabbed her hand and pulled her closer. "Come here, sweetheart." 

Sweetheart. To Patrice's soul, the word felt like warm chicken soup on a winter evening. She could never question how Terry felt about her. He'd been there to offer comfort through a tumultuous, frightening week. Feeling his large hands grip her waist to pull her between his legs grounded her in the right there and then. Regardless of the results, he'd still be around to kiss away the bad times and laugh with her through the good. 

Patrice lightly placed her cold hands on his face while he looked up at her, waiting for anything she decided to say. 

She closed her eyes and sighed. "What if it's negative?" 

"Well. We'll go out and drink champagne all night like we planned. I hate the taste on its own but know I'll love it on your lips when we kiss at midnight. Then we move on. Maybe have a conversation that we should've had a long time ago on the drive home." 

"And if it's positive?" 

Terry took a deep breath, allowing the words to come out in a mind-clearing huff. "We skip the champagne and keep the kiss. But we have to celebrate either way, baby. Time's gonna pass no matter what." 

For all his mixed bag of positive and negative traits, Terry's sneaky optimism was Patrice's favorite. A short, airy laugh came through Patrice's nostrils as she tossed her head back and groaned. 

"You're always so sure of things and I'm sitting here about to throw up my lunch." 

Terry rubbed his hands up and down the back of her legs with a smile. "I'm not sure of shit, really," he laughed. "I just know that we'll be alright in the end. This Gunny I was close with told me everything goes back to baseline. Don't sweat the bullshit in between. So, that's what I'm doing. Waiting it out."

"That doesn't scare you? The waiting?" 

"Sometimes." A quick glance down convinced him to slowly lift Patrice's sweater with one hand and hold it in place while he pressed feather-soft kisses across her abdomen. Kisses for her? Kisses for who he hoped lived inside? He didn't know. But he spoke against the area to communicate with whoever would listen. "But waiting always brought me something better than what I had. How could I not trust the process when I have the result standing right in front of me?" 

A rush of emotions broke the levees holding Patrice's tears back, sending a wet stream sliding down her hot cheeks. Terry wiped her face with the back of his hand in silence, the gentleness in his care working double time to soothe whatever thoughts and feelings were coming forward for her. 

When the short bout of crying had ceased, and she was left with nothing but her husband, a timer ticking down to mere seconds and a looming result hanging over their heads, Patrice ran her thumb along Terry's cheek and smiled down at him. 

"I love you more than I ever thought I could, but we gotta slow down, Terrence. I'm worn out." 

Terry answered her joke with a low chuckle that bounced his shoulders and spread his smile wide. "I'm with you, baby. That should be our New Year's resolution." 

"Either that or finally getting around to that budget we've been talking about. Might have to add a baby fund line item." 

"We got it. Don't worry." Terry assured before kissing the inside of her wrist. "Whatever happens, we're okay. Gimme a kiss."

Sweet affection in the face of potentially life-altering change offered some sense of normalcy as they allowed the world to turn into abstract concepts with shared, tender smooches. 

They'd almost forgotten what brought them into the bathroom until the harsh trill of Patrice's phone timer ripped through space and time, again placing them smack dab in the middle of the present. 

When Terry reached to grab one of the tests after silencing the noise, Patrice jolted forward to grab his wrist. "Okay, wait!" she panted. "I-I'll grab one, and you'll grab one. Then we'll do the third one together. Does that make sense?"

"Alright. Which one do you want?" 

"I don't fuckin' know! Choose for me! I can't do this, TJ!" 

Terry wore a crooked smile as he calmly plucked two tests from their containers and placed the digital option into Patrice's palm face down. He took the analog test and covered the result with his thumb before swallowing the lump in his throat. 

A deep breath rushed through parted lips. "Turn it over on three. One, two…" 

Three never came for Patrice. Even after Terry had uttered the number and turned his test over slowly, Patrice kept her eyes closed, waiting for him to spill the beans. She couldn't bring herself to verify on her own accord. He'd have to be her eyes and ears. 

Silence hung in the air for a few seconds, making the wait agonizing until Terry broke the seal. 

"Treecey," he called out. "Please look with me. I need you to see." 

A deep breath helped her blink her way back into clear eyesight. She didn't look at Terry or try to peek at the pink test in his hand. Instead, she flipped her test over with trembling fingers and stared at the small digital screen displaying a single word. 

"Oh –" was all she managed to choke out before looking up at Terry's beaming smile and tear-soaked face. "Does yours say –?" 

"Two lines, baby. Two!"

Disbelief gave way to unadulterated shock. "Oh. My. God. Look at the other one!" 

"You have to do it with me!"

Another countdown as they held on to the final test together preceded an excited flip and harmonizing reactions that could only be described as happy sobs. 

Patrice rocked Terry in a tight embrace while he clung to her, crying into her sweater's soft fabric more than he'd cried in years. An avalanche of emotions wrapped in disbelief that he'd been immeasurably blessed after his year started with so much strife. His losses came with gains ten times above what he could ask or think. 

His wife brushed tears from her already stained face before kissing the crown of his head and repeating, "You're gonna be a daddy, Pooh. You're gonna be a daddy!"

Emotions distorted his deep voice. "Swear?"

"Swear, baby. You're gonna be a daddy."

He wanted to scream at the top of his lungs, not caring who he disturbed. Then, he'd run down the hallways, through the lobby's doors, out into the cold D.C. air, and holler to anyone who would listen that his wife, the girl he fell in love with before he could legally drink, was carrying a child that might look just like him someday. 

But he couldn't get past sharing the excitement seemingly gushing out of his pores with the only other person who could understand his joy. He chose to lift Patrice up in the air as he stood tall, spinning her in a slow circle before gingerly placing her back on her feet and pressing his forehead against hers. 

"What the fuck," he laughed as he tickled her sides, causing her to giggle back. "I'm having a baby. With my baby!"

"I guess I couldn't beat teen pregnancy. My parents are going to be so disappointed in me." 

"Stop it." The thought of his parents sitting in their living room without a clue that their firstborn was miles away receiving such big news flipped on a light bulb in Terry's head. "Our parents! Should we call? We should call them now. Do you wanna do a group FaceTime or like a conference call or what?" 

Patrice watched Terry fumble around his pockets for his phone until he came up empty-handed and reached for hers. She pushed the device further away and shook her head. "Nuh-uh. Can we just…enjoy the news by ourselves tonight. I want it to be our secret a little longer. Is that okay?" 

"Of course, Piggy. Whatever you want. I'm sorry, I just - shit. This is insane. You have a baby in there. Should we tell them we're a party of three tonight at dinner?" 

"No," Patrice laughed, finding his unbridled excitement adorable. "If they cancel this reservation because you playin', me and you might have a problem, Daddy." 

Terry bit his lip and lowered his head to kiss at her neck. "Damn, I love hearing you say that. Say it again."

By the time they were approaching a swanky steakhouse on Patrice's long list of places to visit, she'd called him Daddy so much in jest that she almost told the hostess that that was the name on their reservation. 

Pockets of quiet conversation held over candlelight and crisp white tablecloths greeted them as they were led through the dimly lit restaurant to the table for the evening. Terry moved to pull out a chair for Patrice, but she stopped him with a kind smile. 

"I'm gonna run to the restroom. Mommy bladder is starting early. Order something cute for me?"

Her joke made Terry smile like a little boy until she was out of his sight and safely inside the ladies' room. 

Romantic jazz music oozing out of speakers concealed inside the walls like smooth red wine gave Patrice time to replay the day in her head, unable to contain the elation on her face as she washed her hands at the sink. 

Another woman, tall like a model and beautifully sepia-toned, applied lipstick in the mirror and noticed how she tried but failed to stop grinning. She smiled at Patrice before speaking. "You're glowing," she complimented. "I need whatever you've got going on tonight." 

Patrice chewed the inside of her cheek after a bashful thank you. She wanted to keep the words in and pleaded with herself to walk out of the restroom and return to Terry without uttering another word. 

"I'm pregnant," she blurted, unable to fight the urge. "My husband and I – he's the tall one out there waiting on me – we just found out that I'm pregnant. We were best friends over a decade ago, and I still can't believe we're married. Now, there's a baby inside me with half his DNA. I'm having a baby with Terry Richmond. Oh my God." The realization of her social blunder hit her like an 18-wheeler. "And I just told a stranger all my business. I am so sorry!" 

"No, no! That's incredible, girl! Can I hug you?"

Patrice didn't know why she obliged, but she did, allowing herself to sink into this woman's arms like she was an old friend and not someone whose name she didn't know. The woman rubbed her back and squeezed tight before pulling away. 

"Congratulations, sis. Happy Holidays." 

While Patrice received well wishes on the other side of the establishment, Terry gave his full attention to the cocktail menu as a server attempted to provide recommendations. 

"That one is a crowd favorite," the young man pointed out. "Is she a rum lover? It comes with top shelf Appleton Estate if so." 

Terry chuckled to himself. "She is, but she can't have any right now. We just found out she's pregnant before we got here." Further explanation caught in his throat. He didn't mean to offer up their secret. Excited Terry had done the talking, not calm and reserved Terry. 

He watched with wide eyes and an internal scolding rattling around the container of his mind as the server smiled and jotted a note on his pad. "First, congratulations! I'll note that to the staff and see if we can't do something special for you and your beautiful date. Second, no worries at all. We can turn that one into a mocktail and not lose too many of the flavor notes." 

"Thanks," Terry breathed out. "Hey, can you make sure you don't tell her I said that? It was supposed to be a secret." 

"Our lips are sealed, Mr. Richmond. Consider it a little something extra to celebrate the new year." 

Terry made a mental note to leave a handsome tip behind as Patrice reappeared from her time away. Her smile hypnotized him until she was close enough to remind him about her chair. He scrambled to his feet to take care of his duty, nervously pushing her to the table as if this were their first date. 

When he was back in his seat, he watched her survey the room and menu, taking in each of her features. 

High cheekbones passed down from a long line of majestic women. Soft, mahogany skin that mesmerized him in golden hour light every evening. Dark, expressive eyes that told the story of her inner thoughts, even when she tried to hide. Full lips he couldn't resist. The total package. Everything he hoped for was wrapped in one person. 

Terry sat across from her, smitten. His grin showcased all of his teeth and then some while she scanned the appetizers for something to satiate her peckishness. 

Prolonged silence made Patrice glance up and then double-take when she noticed Terry's one-sided staring contest. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?" 

"Just trying to remember how you looked on the second most important night of our lives." 

Sudden bashfulness sent heat rushing to her face. "The third," Patrice corrected with a smile. "Don't leave out New Orleans." 

Terry chuckled at the memory. "Baby, the sun was barely in the sky when you decided to disturb the whole third floor."

"It was time to wake up anyway. That's what's wrong with the world now." 

Jokes and discussions about the possibility of dessert before dinner dominated the conversation until their server returned with two drinks meant to loosen their lips and hips for the evening. A subtle wink between Terry and the server communicated all he needed to know without tipping off Patrice as she excitedly watched beautifully decorated glasses hit the table. 

"To our first night out as Mom and Dad," Terry toasted, prompting Patrice to raise her glass. 

Mom and Dad—parents to be—two bodies forming one in a few months—a culmination of thousands of experiences leading them to a fate written before they were born. The concept sounded so foreign yet so familiar. 

Patrice dabbed at misty eyes, sniffling out a breathy, "To Mommy and Daddy." 

Glasses softly clinked before she joined Terry in a long sip and starry-eyed gazes across the table to officially kick off a night of celebration. 

Or so they'd hoped. Full bellies caught up with exhausted minds and bodies once silver forks hit clean porcelain plates well before their planned 10 p.m. exit. They tried to negotiate the next move with each other: a little walk for digestion, maybe a minute to listen to street performers play go-go renditions of oldies their parents would enjoy, perhaps another dessert to keep the mood high. 

All of their suggestions paled in comparison to hearing the mechanical whir of the hotel's lock precede the door swinging open to a warm room. There were no crowds trying to cram their bodies onto a rooftop brimming with eager folks anticipating good fortune as the clock flipped forward on a new year. There was only each other and the comfort of familiarity. 

Bottles of Sprite from the downstairs market acted like expensive bottles of bubbly poured into scavenged plastic cups next to a collection of fatty snacks, and cell phones switched to silent mode to avoid distractions. 

Terry and Patrice two-stepped hand in hand to jams playing from the television broadcast, dressed down in comfortable clothes and sporting ever-growing smiles. 

Under warm lamplight, Terry held Patrice's hand over her head to help her spin like a wind-up ballerina before pulling her close. "What were you doing last year around this time?"

"Ugh, don't remind me," she groaned, a sour look making her frown momentarily. "I was in a bathroom stall breaking up with my ex. Then Phee got us so drunk that we ended up blacked out before the countdown. I still don't know how we got back to her house or why we were cuddled up in her bed like that."

"Sounds like the kind of chaos you three get into when you're unsupervised."

"Whatever." Patrice laughed before making her fingers dance across Terry's broad shoulders. "What about you? What were you doing?"

Terry let a wry smile creep across his face. "Alone and sleeping. I didn't think there was much to look forward to, and I had to work in the morning anyway. Don't even think I turned the TV on."

The thought of Terry sleeping in on the night handpicked for blind optimism drew a sympathetic look from Patrice. "We both had a rough go at it, huh?"

"I don't know, mine was pretty chill. You were the one missing chunks of time." Patrice took faux offense at his joke, slapping across his chest before they let off laughs that slowly dissipated into a comfortable silence. 

Terry rested his head atop Patrice's, his mind taking a winding road back to the beginning while she hummed a made-up tune to herself. 

"Fifth-period Forensics with Mr. Turner. Junior year. You were wearing little strawberries crocheted on a pink sweater and your hair in a high ponytail. Kind of like tonight."

Patrice looked up and tilted her head in confusion. "What?"

"That's the moment I fell in love with you. I'd always liked you, but that's the moment I realized that I loved you," he clarified. "I spent so much time denying it, tiptoeing around how I felt and trying to find you in other women long after we were done, but I kept coming back to you acing that pop quiz in a pink strawberry sweater."

Patrice chuckled and smiled, recalling the time when her feelings blossomed beyond butterflies in her tummy at the mention of his name into a full-bodied, ever-present yearning for his heart. 

Terry waited expectantly, longing to know if there was a moment for Patrice – if her love had a spark that rocked her world the way she did so long ago for him. 

Flashes of bright light and distant cheering cut in just as Patrice seemed ready to confess, stealing her attention for a second too long. 

She gasped like a child on Christmas morning. "Look, baby! We can see the fireworks from here." Patrice tugged Terry along, all two hundred plus pounds of him yielding to her will slowly but surely. 

He had to admit, the sight was beautiful. Bright flashes of light turning into whimsical bursts kept him captivated as the clock ticked down the final minutes of the year. He slowly embraced her from behind, needing to feel her warmth combined with his for comfort. Patrice watched in content silence, smiling to herself while Terry watched the show unfold from the reflection in her glasses. 

Two minutes left. Two minutes to cap off a whirlwind 365 days and march triumphantly into a new slate. Two minutes to release long-forgotten truths buried in the recesses of Patrice's mind. She leaned back against Terry and craned her neck to admire him from her vantage point. 

A jawline fit for a man meant to be showcased to the world. Piercing eyes that shifted and changed with his emotions. Skin marked with blemishes telling countless stories – some he'd share and others that would follow him to the other side. Full pink lips that talked her through good, bad, and intimate times. All the features that might grace a child not yet named and growing in her womb.

"Senior prom night. You told me you loved me, and I said it back because I always said it back. But, that time, it felt different. It wasn't like sayin' it to my parents or my friends or the stray cat Mama let us feed. A different part of my heart meant it. That was the first moment."

Terry looked down at her, smirking and silently encouraging her to continue. She turned in his arms and then took hold of his ears to rub gentle circles against them. 

One minute left. Seconds dwindling. She continued. "The second time was today. And I hope there's a third, a fourth, and one hundred more to come. I never want to stop falling in love with you, TJ." 

Terry squeezed her a little tighter as if she might vaporize and blow away if he didn't hold on for dear life. "Yeah, me too," He whispered, drawing closer to her lips. "Never." 

Faint voices shouting a countdown in unison floated through empty streets and up to the 10th floor to surround a couple preparing to embark on a new journey. 

“Ten…nine…eight…seven…”

An excited buzzing, nearly perceptible by touch, sparked across the city. Heartfelt 'I love you's' shared as one breath passed between Terry and Patrice just before they connected lips and tongues. 

“Six…five…four…”

Colors painted their bodies from the window, bathing them in light one last time from January to December. A final salute from the Most High. 

"Three…two…one! Happy New Year!" 

Endless possibilities coated in an extra dose of magic felt real for the first time in forever. A lover's embrace carried hope and a promise. They'd start anew in lockstep the way the stars intended, with an extra set of fingers and toes to usher through life at some point in the future. 

But, for a moment, Terry and Patrice stood suspended in time, drunk off the taste of each other, ushering in the new year the only way they knew how. 

Together.

———————————

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[extinctlesspains]

𝑃𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑒𝑠𝑠 [ 𝐾. 𝑆𝑎𝑒-𝐵𝑦𝑒𝑜𝑘]

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

ʀᴇᴏ̨ᴜᴇsᴛᴇᴅ: ʏᴇs ᴏʀ ɴᴏ

❃ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴋᴀɴɢ sᴀᴇ-ʙʏᴇᴏᴋ x ғᴇᴍ ɢɪʀʟʏ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

❃ ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: ғʟᴜғғ, sᴜɢɢᴇsᴛɪᴠᴇ ᴛᴏᴡᴀʀᴅs ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴅ

❃ sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:ᴋᴀɴɢ sᴀᴇ-ʙʏᴇᴏᴋ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ sʜᴇ’ᴅ ғᴀʟʟ ғᴏʀ sᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜ—sᴏғᴛ, ʙᴜʙʙʟʏ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴅʀᴇssᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴘᴀsᴛᴇʟ ᴘɪɴᴋs. ʏᴇᴛ, ʜᴇʀᴇ sʜᴇ ᴡᴀs, ᴜɴᴀʙʟᴇ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇsɪs�� ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄʜᴀʀᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴀʀᴍᴛʜ. ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ǫᴜɪᴇᴛ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛs, sʜᴏᴘᴘɪɴɢ sᴘʀᴇᴇs, ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴀᴛᴇ-ɴɪɢʜᴛ ᴄᴏɴғᴇssɪᴏɴs, ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴡᴏ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʀᴏᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴏᴘᴘᴏsɪᴛᴇs ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴅᴏ ᴀᴛᴛʀᴀᴄᴛ.

❃ ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs: ᴋɪssɪɴɢ

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇　

The rain poured relentlessly outside, filling the room with a soft rhythm. You were curled up on the couch in one of your pastel blankets, a cup of chamomile tea in hand. Sae-Byeok sat at the other end of the couch, scrolling aimlessly on her phone, occasionally glancing up at the movie playing on the screen.

“Are you crying already?” she asked, her voice cutting through the sound of the movie’s dramatic confession scene.

You turned to her, pouting. “It’s emotional, Sae-Byeok! He just confessed his love, and she thought he didn’t care about her! How could you not cry?”

Sae-Byeok raised an eyebrow, her expression unchanging. “Because it’s predictable. You knew they’d end up together.”

You huffed, tossing a pillow in her direction. “You’re such a cynic.”

She caught the pillow effortlessly, her lips twitching into a small smirk. “And you’re too soft.”

“And yet, you’re dating me,” you shot back with a playful grin.

Her smirk deepened, and she scooted closer to you, the blanket rustling as she moved. “Guess I like soft things.”

Your cheeks warmed at her words, and you leaned into her shoulder, your heart fluttering at the rare moment of affection. “You’re lucky you’re cute,” you mumbled.

“Mm,” she hummed, resting her chin lightly on the top of your head.

A week later, you were dragging Sae-Byeok into one of your favorite stores—a pastel wonderland filled with frilly clothes, sparkly accessories, and an overwhelming amount of pink.

“I don’t know why you insist on bringing me here,” she muttered, hands shoved deep into her jacket pockets.

“Because I want your opinion!” you chirped, pulling her toward the accessory section.

“I don’t know anything about bows or skirts.”

“Exactly. That means you’ll be honest!”

Sae-Byeok sighed but followed you, her gaze trailing over the racks of clothes. You picked up a baby pink headband adorned with small pearls and held it up.

“What do you think of this one?”

“It’s fine,” she replied flatly.

You rolled your eyes, grabbing another headband. “Okay, but what about this one? It has a bow.”

“They all look the same,” she deadpanned.

“They do not!” you protested, clutching the headband dramatically. “This one is way cuter!”

She sighed again, clearly exasperated but unable to suppress the small smile forming on her lips. “Fine. Get the one with the bow. It’s… less terrible.”

You beamed, grabbing the headband and twirling in place. “You’re the best, Sae-Byeok!”

As you turned back to the rack, she reached out and adjusted the bow on the back of your dress. “It was crooked,” she muttered when you glanced at her in surprise.

Your heart skipped a beat at her quiet care. “Thanks, babe,” you said softly, earning a rare blush from her.

That night, you lay in bed together, the soft glow of your fairy lights casting the room in a warm, golden hue. Sae-Byeok was lying on her back, her hands folded over her stomach, while you were curled up on your side, gazing at her.

“Sae-Byeok?” you murmured, breaking the silence.

“Hmm?”

“Do you think we’re too different?”

She turned her head to look at you, her dark eyes searching yours. “Why do you ask that?”

“Well, I’m all… this,” you said, gesturing to your pastel satin pajamas and the stuffed animals surrounding you. “And you’re… you.”

She frowned, her brows knitting together. “Does it bother you?”

“No,” you said quickly. “I just… wonder if it bothers you.”

Sae-Byeok propped herself up on one elbow, her expression softening. “It doesn’t bother me. You… make things brighter.”

Your breath hitched at her words, and you felt your cheeks heat up. “Sae-Byeok…”

She reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I know I’m not good at this, but I don’t care how different we are. I like being with you.”

Tears pricked at your eyes, and you leaned in to kiss her, your lips meeting in a soft, lingering touch. Her hand slid to your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened.

When you finally pulled back, her eyes were half-lidded, her breathing slightly uneven. “You’re too good for me,” she murmured, her voice low.

You shook your head, cupping her cheek. “Don’t say that. You’re amazing, Sae-Byeok.”

She didn’t respond, but the way her fingers traced slow circles on your hip spoke volumes.

The next morning, the two of you stayed in bed longer than usual, tangled in the sheets. The sunlight streamed through the curtains, highlighting the curve of her jaw and the softness in her gaze as she watched you.

“You’re staring,” you teased, your voice still husky from sleep.

“Can’t help it,” she replied, her voice uncharacteristically playful.

You giggled, leaning closer to her. “What are you thinking about?”

Her hand found your waist, her fingers slipping under the hem of your oversized shirt. “How much I like seeing you like this,” she admitted, her voice dropping.

Your cheeks flushed as her touch sent shivers down your spine. “Sae-Byeok…”

She smirked, leaning in until her lips were just a breath away from yours. “You’re too cute for your own good.”

Before you could respond, her lips captured yours in a kiss that was anything but soft. Her hands roamed your sides, her touch firmer now as she pulled you closer, her body pressing against yours.

You gasped into the kiss, your fingers tangling in her hair as her lips moved to your neck, leaving a trail of heated kisses.

“Sae-Byeok…” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

She pulled back just enough to look at you, her dark eyes filled with a rare intensity. “Tell me if I’m going too far,” she murmured, her voice softer now.

You shook your head, a smile tugging at your lips. “I trust you.”

Her lips curved into a small smile before she leaned in again, her kisses growing more passionate as the world outside faded away.

[charlesslut16]

-very merry christmas-

summary : you can't see your family, so Lando tries everything to make it happen...

PAIRINGS : lando norris x fem!reader

WARNINGS : none

note : I hope that you have a great day, my loves!!!

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

The gentle hum of the jet engines was familiar, a steady rhythm that usually calmed your nerves, but today, the soft noise only seemed to amplify the quiet ache in your chest.

You stared out of the small plane window, watching the clouds drift by in soft, cotton-like clumps. It should have been a comforting view, but all you could think about was how this Christmas was shaping up to be unlike any other.

You’d tried everything. You’d fought to get time off work, even sacrificed family traditions to make it happen. But no matter how hard you tried, no flights had been available.

Your mind raced with images of your family back home—your siblings laughing around the Christmas tree, your parents cooking in the kitchen, the sound of carols filling the house. You hadn’t seen them in what felt like forever, and now you wouldn’t be there to share the magic of Christmas morning with them.

Lando, your boyfriend, had been understanding, of course. He always was. It’s one of the things you loved most about him—his ability to always put others’ feelings first, even when his own were clearly brimming over with excitement.

You’d both decided to spend Christmas together in Monaco, with his family, but deep down, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of missing your own. Lando had insisted, though, that you’d make new memories together. And while that was sweet, it didn’t stop the ache inside you.

Lando’s hand found yours, his fingers warm and steady, pulling you from your thoughts.

“Are you okay, love?” he asked, his voice laced with a mixture of concern and tenderness.

You nodded, offering a half-hearted smile, trying to hide the disappointment that clung to you. “Yeah, just… thinking about everything. You know, Christmas.”

He squeezed your hand, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles. “I know you’re missing your family, but I promise you, we’ll make it special. It won’t be the same, but it’ll be just as meaningful. I swear.”

“I know,” you murmured. “It’s just hard, you know?”

He smiled softly. “I get it. But we’ll figure it out. I promise.”

You tried to focus on the bright side—the beauty of Monaco, the excitement of being with Lando’s family, but as the plane flew closer to its destination, the sadness didn’t seem to want to let go.

When the plane touched down, you were immediately swept up in the bustling energy of the Monaco airport. Lando was already in his element, his mind on everything at once. As the two of you navigated the crowds, you caught sight of the shining Christmas trees and twinkling lights that lined the walkways, and for a moment, you felt that familiar holiday warmth.

But when Lando turned to you, his expression serious and a little secretive, you knew something was up.

“I’ve got a little surprise for you,” he said, his eyes dancing with a playful gleam.

You raised an eyebrow, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“You’ll see,” he said with a wink. “But first, we’ve got to head back to my parents’ house.”

You climbed into the car with him, the anticipation mounting in your chest. As the car sped through the streets of Monaco, you tried to imagine what could be in store, but nothing could have prepared you for what Lando had planned.

When you arrived at the house, the door swung open before you even had a chance to knock, and Lando’s parents greeted you warmly, their arms wide. You were soon swept inside, the scent of mulled wine and cinnamon filling your senses.

The house was decorated beautifully, lights sparkling in every corner. There was the unmistakable feel of holiday cheer, but something was different about the atmosphere—something that felt a little extra special, though you couldn’t quite put your finger on it.

As you followed Lando through the hallway, you were greeted by more than just his family. You were greeted by your family.

Your breath caught in your throat as you looked at your mom, your dad, your sister, and your brother. They stood there in front of the grand Christmas tree, their faces lighting up with joy at the sight of you.

“How—” You couldn’t finish the question, your voice cracking with emotion.

Lando smiled, his eyes glowing with warmth. “I know how much you’ve been missing them, so I flew them out. They’re here, just like you always wanted. We’re all going to have Christmas together.”

Tears filled your eyes, and you couldn’t stop the flood of emotions that washed over you. “Lando… I can’t believe you did this.”

“You deserve to have your family with you, especially at Christmas,” he said softly. “I love you. And I wanted this to be perfect.”

Your heart was in your throat as you rushed toward your family, embracing them all at once. The warmth of their hugs enveloped you, and it felt as if all the space between you and home had finally melted away.

After the initial whirlwind of emotions settled, Lando gathered everyone together, leading you all into the living room, where the fire crackled softly in the hearth. It felt like a dream—a beautiful, surreal dream.

He turned to you then, his eyes shining. “There’s one more thing I need to do.”

Before you could even react, he was kneeling in front of you, pulling a small velvet box from his pocket. You gasped, the breath catching in your chest.

“[Y/N],” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion, “Christmas isn’t just about family. It’s about love. And you’re my everything. I want to spend every Christmas with you for the rest of our lives. So, will you marry me?”

The room fell silent, all eyes on you. You could feel your heartbeat in your throat, the words struggling to break free. But as you looked into Lando’s eyes, the man who had brought your family halfway across the world just to make this Christmas unforgettable, the answer was already clear.

“Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you!”

The room erupted into cheers and applause as Lando slid the ring onto your finger, his smile brighter than the Christmas lights surrounding you. It was a moment you would never forget—a moment where love, family, and everything you held dear came together in the most perfect way.

As you kissed him, feeling the joy and warmth of everything you’d ever wanted, you whispered against his lips, “This really is the very merriest Christmas.”

Lando’s arms wrapped around you tighter, pulling you closer as the cheers of your family echoed around you. “It’s only just begun,” he murmured. “Merry Christmas, my love.”

And with that, you knew you were home, no matter where you were.

[l-resonant-l]

I’m got out of a really shitty relationship and living situation, and a lot of my growth and just survival has been helped by my puppy. They bought me a puppy for my birthday and tried to use it as a reason to tie me to them, I couldn’t leave because I had a dog with them. But I was the only one that cared for him. The only time they did anything they gave him a homeopathic medicine way too strong and painful for puppies. He was part of why I left, I knew he deserved a better environment even if I didn’t believe that about myself yet.

I got out of bed and on a regular schedule because Beawulf woke me up when I tried to sleep in and he wanted to play. I researched and talked to my friend who’s a biochemist and found all the supplements to help with his breeds usual issues. I didn’t feel like getting all my medicine (I’m chronicly ill) but I did it when I bought his supplements because they were at the same store. I didn’t feel like eating and wanted to starve myself, but he knew if he sat at my side and didn’t bark during meals he got table scraps (only once on solid diet and it would be meat and stuff safe for him), so he would cry at me until I ate my meals (he memorized the time). And I started giving him treats when he sat with me as I took my meds, so he memorized “medicine time” and reminds me every day on time. And he won’t let me leave until I take all my pills (he gets one treat at start one at end). It’s hard to motivate myself to even get up and take my pills sometimes, but when he looks up at me with his big eyes, I can’t deny him so I always end up taking them so he gets his treat.

It’s been about five months since I moved out and he’s almost a year old now, and he’s Much less anxious than when we lived with my last partner. Much happier too. And I am too. I’ve got a long way to go healing wise, but on the days I feel I’m not worth it, all it takes is this puppy waking up next to me full of so much glee the second he sees me, and I know, not only am I worth it if such a wonderful creature can love me, I owe it to him to be stable and take care of him.

sobbing and crying at the woman who stole a meth addicted kitten from her dealer and then she and the kitten got clean together

[captain-hawks]

when osamu casually turned to you yesterday and invited you to swing by the store for a new year’s eve party, you figured it was out of pity.

because he knows your shitty boyfriend broke up with you two weeks ago. and he knows you only moved here for university, most of your family and friends are all hours away back at home.

he knows because you’ve been working for him at onigiri miya for just over eight months now (longer than said shitty boyfriend’s tenure if your life), and he’s somehow become your closest friend around here along the way.

well, as much of a friend as you can consider your boss—who’s truthfully only a couple of years older than you.

but now it’s 11:57 PM, and the inside of the closed store is lit by the glow of string lights as music plays through someone’s bluetooth speaker. msby players and various other people in osamu’s life that you’ve come to know in the months since you started working here are mingling and laughing and drinking and dancing.

and admittedly, it feels nice. even if it was a pity invite because osamu knew you were going to spend the night home alone at your apartment otherwise.

even if it’s a little too much seeing osamu like this, with hat hair-turned-finger mussed locks, with his full lips tilted upward in an easy grin that leaves your stomach in knots. because you have no reason not to admit it to yourself now—how handsome you find him. how pretty his eyes are. what the warm rasp of his voice does to you.

how much you enjoy his company. how your fingers sometimes itch with the urge to card through his messy hair when he lifts it to adjust his hat. how you—

“i hope ya know i invited you because i wanted ya here,” osamu’s voice suddenly interrupts your thoughts, his shoulder brushing yours as he comes to stand beside you.

you turn to face him, heart ricocheting against the confines of your ribcage at the expression on his face—one that feels almost fond.

“you have too much sympathy for strays, osamu,” you chide, throat going tight.

osamu shakes his head before taking the cup you’re holding and placing it on a table. “you belong here.”

partygoers start excitedly counting down from ten, though it’s mostly drowned out by the sound of blood rushing in your ears at you meet osamu’s gaze.

“would it be okay if i kiss ya now?” he asks softly.

the question is punctuated by cheers and laughter and a symphony of party poppers exploding.

it’s gentle, the way he cups your face. the brush of his nose along your cheek, the tickle of his hair against your skin.

it’s gentle, but in this moment, you don’t feel fragile anymore. not with the warmth that floods through you as osamu’s lips slot against yours.

[deonsx]

Hi!!<3 i really love your writing!! Im kinda new to tumblr but i was wondering if u could do like blue lock boys w a gf whos obsessed w jellycats?? That'd be really cute! Ty in advance!! ♡♡

Lesgoo with jellycats!!! Hiii i hope you will love this (≡^∇^≡)sae,nagi,kaiser

Sae Itoshi

Sae wasn’t one to get easily surprised or caught off guard but when he first walked into your room and saw the mountain of Jellycats he had to pause. There were bunnies cats whales and even an avocado plushie staring back at him with those signature beady eyes

He raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms his usual deadpan tone slipping out “Do you… collect these or do they just multiply when I’m not looking?” You shot him an offended look clutching a bunny plush close to your chest.

“Sae collecting is an understatement. Jellycats are a lifestyle. Look at this face. Doesn’t it make you feel anything?” He tilted his head staring at the plushie like it might reveal some profound truth about life “It’s… fine I guess. It’s soft. But I don’t get why you need twenty of them”

Despite his stoic demeanor Sae slowly started to indulge your obsession in his own quiet way

♡ On one of his overseas trips he sent you a picture of a rare Jellycat he spotted in a boutique. Along with it was a message: “Do you want it Don’t make me regret asking"

♡ He once walked into your room to find you cuddling a Jellycat sloth while watching TV. He sighed but sat beside you subtly shifting the sloth onto his lap while pretending not to notice how soft it was.

♡ Occasionally he’d randomly toss a plushie at you muttering “Here you forgot your emotional support avocado”(づ ◕‿◕ )づ)

Nagi Seishiro

When Nagi first stepped into your room he froze. His usual sleepy expression shifted into mild confusion as he scanned the shelves bed and even the floor all covered in Jellycat plushies. There were so many that for a second he thought he might’ve walked into the wrong place

“Uh… what’s all this” he asked lazily scratching the back of his head. You looked up from where you were arranging your newest addition a chubby Jellycat turtle and grinned “They’re my Jellycats Aren’t they adorable”

Nagi squinted at the nearest one a large bashful bunny sitting on the edge of your desk. He picked it up and gave it a half-hearted squeeze “Kinda squishy… but why do you need so many They’re just plushies right”

You gasped dramatically snatching the bunny from his hands “Nagi take that back They’re not just plushies they’re family” Nagi blinked at you his usual blank look making it hard to tell what he was thinking “That’s a lot of family” he mumbled looking around again

Nagi wasn’t one to judge. If anything he thought it was a bit of a hassle but he quickly got used to the Jellycat invasion in your room

♡ One time during a gaming marathon at your place he fell asleep on your bed surrounded by plushies. When you came back you found him hugging a Jellycat shrimp to his chest completely knocked out. You couldn’t resist snapping a picture

♡ He once pointed at your new Jellycat sheep and said “This one looks weird… but I guess it’s okay.” That sheep became his favorite though he’d never admit it

♡ Occasionally when you weren’t paying attention he’d stack a few Jellycats on top of each other to see how tall he could make the pile before they toppled

Kaiser Michael

Kaiser prided himself on being a man of taste and sophistication. So when he first stepped into your room and saw an entire army of Jellycats staring back at him with their beady eyes, he was… speechless “Schatz, what… is this?” he asked, gesturing dramatically to the plushies scattered across your bed, shelves, and even the floor. You beamed, holding up a Jellycat penguin.

“These are my Jellycats. Aren’t they cute” He stared at the penguin, unimpressed “Cute? Sure. But why do you have so many of them? This looks like a toy store exploded in here” You frowned, clutching the penguin closer

“Kaiser, they’re not just toys. They’re art. Look at their craftsmanship. Their charm. Their squishiness”He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose “Of course. How could I possibly understand the ‘art’ of a stuffed avocado” he muttered under his breath

As much as Kaiser teased you about your Jellycat obsession, he couldn’t deny how happy they made you and begrudgingly, he started to indulge your quirky hobby

♡ On one of his trips to Europe, he sent you a picture of a Jellycat lion he saw in a boutique, along with the message: “Would this make your little collection complete or is it still missing a giraffe”

♡ He occasionally picked up a random plushie while lounging in your room, twirling it in his hands as he scrolled through his phone. Once, you caught him absentmindedly squeezing a Jellycat otter while pretending to ignore you

♡ He loved teasing you by calling your Jellycats “my competition” and dramatically acting jealous whenever you cuddled one more than him

Enjoy!

[consistantly-changing]

[Image descriptions in order: screenshots of reblogs on this post.

Images in the first reblog:

moregaythanyourealized: i was at an antique store in Austria once and when I went to check out they guy was like "Oh, that was my wife's. Oh well, she'll be okay without it!" I felt a little guilty]

[takk: #bought a ceramic seal at an antique store and the woman at the counter said 'do you know what this is?' and i said 'a seal?' and she said #nothing else]

[vintagegarf: #this has happened to me multiple times #I tried to buy a lamp they were using for light that got unplugged #they let me buy it but i had to haggle for a bit]

[tackyflamingosarah: I was in a local used bookstore once and they had an original finalized script for The Breakfast Club. That was pretty cool to see. Still have no idea where they got it from]

[shakespearerants: #ahahaha throwback to the one time I went into THEE most expensive antique store in the city to ask about a ring that was haunting me #and the about 90 year old sales lady a. didn't recognize the peice b. immediately told me if she'd have seen it earlier she would've kept i #for herself c. turned the tag around and was surprised to find a price in her own handwriting d. deduced I don't have a job by my manicured #for-once hands e. offered me a 100€ discount because she liked my vibes f. immediately invited me to come to her property and meet her #horses after I expressed the slightest interest. when I say property I mean castle with grounds. when I say horses I mean own private stud. #OH YEAH and this whole interaction started with her wanting to throw me out of the store as soon as I walked through the door bc she had a #private client coming in 10 minutes. #vladi speaks]

[cosmic-courtroom: #me when i find radioactive glass in some random persons booth and it's just labelled 'green glass $2.50' like. #stares. girl. and the owners of the store see my blacklight in hand and go 'oh so is it [uranium/depression] glass??' and i flash it with #light and sometimes it's the brightest shit they've seen like. Hey That's a Really High U Concentration Actually.]

[agdab: #this was how i got a cursed ring #i had to bury it in a graveyard to get rid of it]

[chikinan: #still thinking about the cow fetus]

[horneboy: #omfg no i got a 60s soviet union biscuit tin from a vintage shop #and the guy was like wtf whats this never seen it before #and i was like it's your shop blud]

[thirdchoiceurl: #love when they ask why I picked something out and I get to tell them about all the uranium they have]

[Images in the second reblog:

abyssalterrors: #me w my collectible nsync marionnete puppets #jt i WILL find you]

[therebloger22: #the employee going i don't think we have postcards cause postcard lady hasn't been in lately and then here i come with postcards]

[ghostphy: #i once tried to buy a little Pikachu figure from a thrift store #and they would NOT sell it to me #because they were convinced it wasn't from the store #so they just took it and kept it #like. ok]

[phi-says-bullshit: One was at an antique store, he asked "where did you find this?" I said, in a bucket marked a dollar? And he gave me a handful of things from the bucket for free. What a score]

[tinygreenbug: #one time i bought an atrocious lamp because it was only $4 and i thought it was funny and she went 'oh thank god']

[chrono-of-june: #me: waltzes up to the counter with a pink frilly parasol and a gruff also plush #*gruffalo #the lady there: ?????]

[mothmanns: #one time i found a little ceramic piggie at the antique store #not my first but one of the early ones #and i fell in love with him instabtly even though he is missing an ear #and i took him up to the counter and said 'i know hes broken but i love him so much' and the owner smiled at me #and she said 'he was broken when he got here but i kept him because i knew someone special would want to take him home' #and she gave him to me for free and also i cried #im looking at him rn !!!]

[speakingofdoorknobs: #I once found an autographed photo of the Professor from Gilligan's Island at an antique store #yes of course I bought it how could I not?]

[bubsu: #i went to an antique store with a basement and nothing had price tags #also you could only access stuff on the perimeter of the absolute pile of stuff #i took a pic of chairs i wanted and the guy was like oh yeah i remember those i sold them and then bought them back #couldnt buy them lest i find him in my apartment taking his chairs back in the middle of the night #also they were $400]

[stan-pines-mullet: contrary to mom n pop thrift stores, where you can go to the deepest corner of the shop, find a tunnel created by chairs and dressers, crawl into it, be meeted by diverging paths but eventually picking the path less trodded, and at the end you'll find like a cute lamp or something and bring it to the desk and shes like "ahhh yes the lamp" and probably tell you exactly when she got it and who gave her it".]

[Images in the third reblog:

fairyundead: #Or the store is owned and staffed by just one dude who knows exactly when and where he got each and every item #And while he's ringing you up he tells the story of how he found the item and how he had planned to do XYZ with it #He seems almost sad to let it go but when you're like "you don't have to sell it to me?” He's like no no it's yours now #And it makes the item just a bit more special to you whenever you see it]

[idyllic-idioms: #bought a hat at the charity shop yesterday and the guy at the checkout was like #is this hat yours #and i was like ????? #and he was like did you find it in this building or bring it in yourself #and i was like oh yeah it was in that bin over there #and he was like hmm interesting]

[sleepysuccubi: #either that or they have extensive knowledge about the random Pyrex bowl you found in the basement]

[ereborne: #when I got my cuteass little teapot I wanted a little trivet to keep on the floor in the corner of my room for my teapot to perch on #and the first of the little antique/consignment shops we went to didn't have any trivets we could find #the second one I found a trivet in the first main room and I was much encouraged! I marked its position in my mind and kept looking #and by that point my family had gone farther in (an acknowledged fact that I am always the slowest and should be left) #and the lady behind the little desk asked if she could help me with anything so I told her I was looking for a trivet #but also we were all just there to poke around no worries and she was like 'oh well I don't think we have any trivets but enjoy!' #and I was like 'ah well you do have at least one. right here. on this shelf maybe two yards from where you spend all your time' #very funny to scoot a milkjug aside and lift a bunch of plates to show a little cast-iron maple leaf trivet and see her be like oh!!!!!! #that is the trivet I ended up buying but they did have at least four in the shop. maybe more hidden where I didn't see them #and also actually we never went to the other floor so who knows how many there! but yeah at least four and the first in that front room

mariedemedicis: #quoth queue quoth i]

[dreamshappytrail: #this happened when i bought a clown once #cashier had. never seen it before ???? #so they let me have him for free :3]

[roominthishell: #this happens in normal shops too if the customers are insane enough #ive had people come up to me with our wall decorations that we like nailed onto the wall trying to buy it #and i have to be like 'where did you get this from????']

[uncivilliberties: I bought an eight inch tall cast iron Michelin Man coin bank the other day and the cashier looked at it blankly for a full thirty seconds and then just whispered "what"]

[everlastingrandom: #me every time I find a new lead crystal piece #that guy at the counter is like 'we had that in the store???' #and I'm like yeah man #:3 treasure hunting]

[wierdrocks: #bought a framed cross stitch when i moved #and the guy at the antique store squinted at it and was like #i... sold this #were there two?? #guess there were two]

[lachlame: #bought a sword at a thrift store one time #had a price tag and everything #but that cashier swore on a stack of bibles that theyd never seen it before]

[Images in the fourth reblog:

lichensings: #a friend of mine when she found a doll that looks exactly like her in the back #(they let her have it for free)]

[fisherkings: #once someone semi accusingly asked if i got my sweater there and i said no and she said hm. well i wish we sold it. okay?]

[ivytwines: #the walk of shame to show them the rando booth you picked it up at]

[aquilathefighter: #the awkward description of which booth and what dusty corner of said booth #listen gertrude i like to DIG through all the musty crap]

[obfuscatingintelligence: #i found what i think was a Christmas tree topper from the Soviet Union #hammer and sickle and everything #still no idea how it showed up in small town lowa]

[turtledactyl: #my friend once found a large jar of various stones and jewelry and the person working was like idk where you found that but its uhhh $20 #there was like hundreds of dollars worth of stones and cabachons in there]

[pumpkabitch: #i know ive reblogged and tagged this before about this #but i wanted to look at this little gold frog in a case and the guy opened it took the frog out and said Ive never seen this thing before]

[goosefeathered: #one time it was a rat #the only thing worse than being a customer is being the customer that finds that rat #she put it in a jar and gave it to me? #i let it go in a creek #weird day]

[berry-femme: #me like hello I want those three musical ceramic wall masks please #and they're like #the what now.]

[comradecrab: #that one lamp shaped like a ship i bought with little sails and an anchor #at least five older ladies crowded around me to watch me see if it turned on and cheered when it did #cashier was like i swear i have never seen this in my life anyway that'll be $15]

[Images in the fifth reblog:

ectogasm: #found this absolutely fucking DELIGHTFUL antique store in keyport the other day #just packed to the gills #some of the strangest shit just piled onto shelves #religious pamphlets from 1895 thrown into a bin stacked next to a shelf that had uranium glass plates and an old box of antiseptic dressing #nixon political pins and a BOTTLE OF MERCURY and antique rolls of film #i wanted to move in #anyway i bought a pair of earrings and had this exact exchange w the shop owner]

[thesunshookwithjoy: #shout out to the lady at the antique store who said 'what the hell is a gyroscope' while we were buying said gyroscope #and then I think just guessed at the price #it's really cool though it's from an old boat]

[midnight-herald: #LITERALLY #there was this antique store in boston i would go to after moving #because there was so much good kitchen stuff in the basement that the owners forgot about #so they'd cut me a crazy deal #i'd be trying to add up how much for everything i had grabbed based on what the signs downstairs said #and the guy working the counter would just look at this shit and me with my calcualtor (not even joking) and say '$35' #ever september we would do this song and dance #got a rlly nice cast iron skillet from him this way]

[shower-man: #everytime i come up to check out with the dustiest crustiest doll that looks like it no longer believes in light]

[bohello: #"oh yeah theres a mannequin in the bathroom btw" after getting jumpscared by the mannequin]

[tyronetoastertime: #me when I got my hand caught in a bear trap at an antique store]

[ghxsttowns: #i love tiny cutlery. like tiny tiny. and whenever i find any in antique stores and go 'hi how much will it be for this' theyre like damn #those are minuscule where were they ??? u can just take them Imao dont worry]

[songsfordustmites: #usually they dont comment on my purchases but last time they did #yes there are captain kangaroo records out there. yes i did get a great deal on that bag of colorful thread. #yes the little toy that i bought is so cute. thats why i bought him.]

[cookinguptales: #I also love the opposite #when you bring some little tchotchke up to the front desk and they're like oooh do you know what this is #and you're like yes it's a little kitty with a pumpkin and I love him #and they're like THIS is a FIGURINE that came packaged in TEA and people COLLECTED them #and you're like fascinating thank you I've named him timothy]

[maximum-snoot: I briefly worked at an antique mall in highschool, the kind where they rent out spaces to different vendors and whatnot... Well one day a customer brings this skull up to the register and like, that's fine, a lot of vendors have the occasional animal skull, but we had to be like UHHHH WHERE DID YOU FIND THIS because it was a fucking PORPOISE skull, which is EXTREMELY illegal to own and even MORE illegal to sell and I guess the vendor who was trying to sell it somehow didn't know this??? So we had to be like "Sorry, you can't buy this. Nobody can buy this. We shouldn't even have this. Please don't tell the authorities."]

[Images in the sixth and final reblog:

zooophagous: #"i got it from the booth full of santa claus decor" #i also love the random booths that are selling clearly brand new items and handmade soap #like girl youre lost this place is for mildew covered magazines and racist salt and pepper shakers]

[autisticmisabel: #my favourite thing is when they're so confused about you wanting whatever useless knick knack #that they just give it to you because they can't think of a reasonable price #it's happened to me twice now i think]

[goomygoomygoomy: #me at river market all the time #'where did you even get this' in a dark corner of the basement floor dw about it]

[quillkippsisalilbitchandilovehim: #one time i asked the guy behind the cash desk about something and he tried to walk over before realising he was literally trapped behind the #desk because of all the stuff piled up around him. had to help this dude climb out lol]

[catskincass: #when I bought a pair of vintage rare binoculars for pennies because they put the decimal in the wrong place]

[siixxeyes: there's an antique store across the street from my house. i collect vintage poodle related things (i show poodles) and i found a really gorgeous poodle brooch from the 60's. the owner looked at me and said "where the fuck was this?" and proceeded to write down my name and put the word POODLES next to it. i get a phone call every few weeks when they either find something or get something new.]

[asstrainmcfucktruck: #'who let you into the forbidden relics section' 'fred??' 'NOBODY NAMED FRED WORKS HERE']

[carneflower13: #not even the creators of the labyrinth are truly aware of what lurks within it #memes]

[zzazu: #once found a 300 year old history book and the store owner was like #where did you find this? weve been looking for this for 8 years]

[night-creeps: #the best and only time I went to an antique store #i was like 3/4 years old #i dont remember if i was with my mom or my aunt #but near the counter they had their small/ easily steal-able things in a glass case #and i saw this set if two wooden cats that are vaguely reminiscent of lucky cats #but they were painted black and with slight floral detailing #and i was obsessed with cats as a kid #and in my brain i was like convinced they were super valuable because they were in a glass case #and the lady who owned the place thought i was adorable and let me hold them #and i was begging to get them but was told we couldnt #but the lady gave them to me anyway #now that im older im p sure they arent that valuable #and i only have one becayse i gave tge other to my best friend in elementary school #but I was so wowed as a kid that the lady let me have something i was convinced was extremely valuable]

/End ID

i love antique stores you go to check out & theyre like “where the hell did you get this”