#i love it too!! it can be expensive but it's so so worth it and I use those skills all the time!

[guppyfish77]

So about the Battle Subway Trains

Hi, I love trains! And the Trains in Unova have a surprising amount of detail? And nobody talks about it? And if I don't talk about it I will explode!?!!!

So despite Unova being inspired by New York you'd think the Battle Subway Trains would be based on The New York Subway Trains? However they look like they are more based on Japanese Railway Trains!

I'd like to preface before going into this that despite talking a lot about the Japanese Railway, I am not Japanese, while I did my best to research as best I can, some stuff may fly over my head, I also used an online translator for some information so it might not be 100% accurate.

Alrighty lets get into this! This is mainly for fun and its going to be under the Read More because it is verrrrrrrrry long, I hope that you enjoy!

If you aren't aware, each train in the Battle Subway has lore! All the lore comes from this Worker NPC on the bridge in Anville Town. Depending on the day, a different train will show up on the turntable, and he'll give you a little dialogue for that train! This dialogue is what I'll be mainly analyzing :]

Single and Anville Town Trains:

"This is a Single Train! It's the oldest train in the Battle Subway. It's for a loop line to go around the Unova region! Do you know Tubeline Bridge? The train that runs on it is this Single Train."

"As you know, this is a local train to Anville Town! Isn't it just so cute? This one is a little slow and heavy. When it runs, the whole train sways. The train car is the same model as a Single Train. Because it is an old train car, I hear the maintenance is hard, but it's the one I always ride, because I loved it as a kid!"

So! The Single and Anville Town Trains are the same model of train, you can actually see this in their designs where they both share the same face but they differ in the livery. (Livery is a term referring to the train's decor/color, the color is often associated with a particular company or in this case a particular train line.) I'm going to use this fact to assume that if one train has one feature, then it's likely that the other train also has that same feature. Such as how the description of the Anville Town Train says it sways as it runs, if that is the case then the Single Train also probably sways. (which sounds kind of awful to battle on, unless you have good train legs I suppose X_X)

It is stated that the Single Train is the oldest in the Battle Subway. I believe though, that it means the oldest train that is currently running in the Battle Subway. As there is another train that seems much older and no longer running, but I'll get to that train much much later.

Older trains are indeed harder to maintain, and expensive too. This is because the older the equipment, the harder it is to get its parts as they become more obsolete. Though I will say this, trains can last a long time! The average service life of a train is about 30-50 years, it really varies from train to train. These trains would most likely be on the older side.

There is a slight possibility that it has been continued to be maintained past it service life. Given how fond the Worker NPC talks about the train, it might have high sentimental value. Therefore if it is past its service life, it has not been scrapped or recycled yet because of it. I doubt this is the case though, usually it is never worth the maintenance cost (especially for regular operation.)

Like the description says, you can see the Single Train running on the Tubeline Bridge, here's a video of it! Apologies for the way I am recording this, I don't exactly have a capture card, but I wanted to show you guys regardless

You can see how fast the train is going as it passes below you! At least the just Singles Train anyways, seems to me like it's going about 20-30mph? I tried doing math to find the exact speed but that's difficult for several reasons (no idea how large a "tile" in Pokemon really is and objects in the overworld are not very accurate in size so I can't exactly do any comparisons. The perspective of the camera also makes it tricky.) Given how the Anville Train is described as "slow and heavy", I would hazard a guess to say that the other trains of the Battle Subway may run faster than this.

You can also see that each train is made up of 7 cars as it passes below you if you slow down the footage. Which is not surprising, you have to win 7 battles in a row to complete a "set" where you are then dropped off at a rest stop. I believe the Battle Subway trains to be electrical multiple units (EMUs) so it would probably make them 7-car sets.

It also looks like the Singles Line is very busy with the trains only being seconds apart! Now I know this is more a visual thing so the environment would be interesting to look at, but I'd like to think it indicates that the Battle Subway/Singles Line is very popular! (and very well organized!)

As for Real life train inspirations I think perhaps the Tobu 10030 series?

The Tobu 10030 is a version of the Tobu 10000 series with some minor changes, such as the design of the face and using a bolsterless bogie. (Bogie is a part of the train that refers to a frame that holds sets of wheels as well as the suspension, breaks, etc. in which the body of the train car rests upon.)(A bolster is a part that connects the side frames of the bogie and the underside of the car's central pivot point.)(A bolsterless bogie is a bogie type that doesn't have a bolster). The front of the train is covered in fiber reinforced plastic and the outer panels are "bead molded" (which... I have no clue what that means...) This series has been going under renovations since 2010.

Double Train:

"This car is a Double Train! This is a mass-produced car from a decade ago! Compared to a Single Train, the number of parts was reduced so it could be built for a lower cost. The number of parts influences the budget and construction time. The streamlined and beautiful design of the Double Train is still valued today."

So the Double Train is at least 10 years old! (That's what decade means!) Honestly though, I think the Double Train might be older than 10, in Japanese the description just says that it is a "mass-produced train from a long time ago" and doesn't mention a number... Another reason is that in the Multi Train description, it mentions that it is a test model for future trains that will replace the Double Trains. Which means perhaps that the Double Trains may be reaching near the end of its service life, which again average 30-50 years. It could be a possibility that this train may have a shorter service life than usual, who knows. This all speculation really.

As for lowering the amount of parts, from what I found it makes the train lighter. It would also probably lower the cost as well like the description says (trains are really really expensive to build! EMUs can cost $2mil-$10mil per car!)

It also mentions that it is a mass-produced car! It's a train made with mass production for commercial purposes! I believe it's usually for train lines that are really busy, where they would need a lot of trains? It typically means that there are a lot of them. (All this makes me wonder about train production in the Pokemon World...)

As for Real life inspirations, I think that the Double Train is inspired by the Tokyu 1000 series train.

The Tokyu 1000's design and equipment is similar to another train, the Tokyu 9000 series, with improvements such as improved handling and making it easier to do inspection and repair work. As well as reducing the amount of spare parts from the Tokyu 9000.

Multi Train:

"This car is a Multi Train! Few cars of this model were produced. This is a test car to develop future mass-produced cars that will replace the old Double Trains. The technology born during the creation of this train car made the Super Single Train and Super Double Train possible!"

The multi train is a test/prototype train! A little surprised that an entire line is running off a few prototypes. Like the description says, not many are produced as the purpose of a prototype is to test features and improve upon them if needed before they are put into mass production. Given that it says the technology from this train was the reason the Super Single and Super Double Train was made possible. I'm thinking it was most likely testing some eco friendly features? As it is the Super Single and Super Double Train's main feature.

Perhaps them using a model with so few trains means that the Multi line isn't that busy/popular? (Surprising then the train platform is not swarming with more train photographers haha!)

As for real life inspirations, while the livery may not be the same I think it could be the Keisei 3000 (2nd Generation.)

The Keisei 3000's body is made of lightweight stainless steel and the passenger doors have a paper honeycomb structure. When they were designing this train, they wanted it to be both environmentally (energy saving) and customer friendly (being accessible to elderly and those with disabilities.)

Super Single and Super Double Trains:

"This Super Single Train is a new mass-produced car! It's an environmentally friendly train, because they revised all the parts to drastically reduce power consumption! Newer trains have to be built in a way that's both functional and environmentally friendly. Compared to the past, they've improved significantly."

"This Super Double Train is a new mass-produced car! Such a streamlined and refined design! Beauty and utility working together! That kind of beautility is unique to mass-produced train cars! It uses the same train car as a Super Single Train. The only difference is the appearance. It is a superb train car that will go down in the history of the Battle Subway!"

The Super Single and Super Double Trains are the same model. Honestly the description of these trains doesn't give me a lot of information besides the fact that these trains are eco friendly. So I'll talk about what trains do to make themselves (even more) eco friendly!

They are stated to be eco friendly by reducing power consumption. I think it could be referring to a "VVVF inverter control" (it stands for variable voltage variable frequency. In English its mainly called the VFD or variable frequency drive.) A VVVF is a type of system for an AC motor that can reduce energy consumption! (There are two types of electrical current, DC or Direct Current and AC or Alternate Current. An AC motor is a motor that is driven by AC electricity.) It is important on energy saving trains! I won't get too much into how it works, but essentially it controls the AC motor's rotational speed by controlling the frequency. By controlling these, it can control the speed and acceleration of a train. You'll find that a VVVF is often paired with a three phase motor (I will not go into that...) Let's just say that these systems are very efficient at using power and help save energy.

Really, reducing power consumption usually means being more efficient at using power. Like using LEDs, using better insulation to retain cooling or heating, and generally using parts that use less electricity. It could be that the train is lighter in weight too (lighter vehicles use less power.)

Both of these Super Trains are mass produced! Which tells me that there are a lot of Super Single and Super Double trains! Its lines are probably busy.

As for real life inspirations, it is very much inspired by the E233-2000 series train

The E233-2000 is a little bit of an oddball in the E233 family exterior design wise. Its design was inspired by the Tokyu 5000 series. Its basic running equipment is the same as the E233 trains before it though.

I think it is a bit of a stretch, but I'll mention it anyways. The E233 (which the E233-2000 is a subsection of) is a train that has won the Laurel Award in 2007. The Laurel Award is an award given to trains by the Japan Railway Friends Association for trains with an excellence in technology and design (specifically geared towards commuter trains.) It could be what all the "beautility" comments could be referencing to? They do look verrry different though, and the E233-2000 came after the award was given...

Super Multi Train:

"This train car is a Super Multi Train! This is the latest train car! Improved acceleration and deceleration! Automated train-car controls! It's full of cutting-edge technologies. Also, a regeneration brake system, a car-body tilting system, a whatchamacallit system, a thingamabob system... I don't remember all the details, but it's just a big festival of all the latest technology!"

Ohhoho! The Super Multi Train description is a goldmine of details! This train is the whole reason I wanted to make this post! Let's run through its features!

Improved acceleration and deceleration means that it can run between stops faster, allowing for quicker operation time.

Automated train-car controls or ATC is a safety system on trains that prevents trains from going over a certain speed! If the train goes over the maximum speed permitted then the ATC will pull the brakes automatically to reduce the speed and release the brakes when it is below maximum speed. It also displays the maximum speed to the driver. It is an incredibly important safety system!! From what I understand, the term ATC is very common in Japan, in other countries the ATC would simply be a part of cab signaling (it is a safety system mainly for the driver and train crew, it tells them track status and condition information) and train protection technologies. ATC is installed on all Shinkansen trains, it is also installed in some subways and heavily used railways.

Here's an example of what it looks like! The green triangle there is the (current) maximum speed. There are a lot of different types of ATC systems and this ones a D-ATC (stands for Digital Automatic Train Control) from within an E233! There are a whole lot of different types of ATC, and they can come in many looks! I would show more examples, however, I have hit the image limit on this post... :[

A regenerative brake system is a special type of breaking that allows a train to generate electricity via breaking! The electricity can either be used immediately, stored, or returned back into the line. You might've heard this feature on electric or hybrid cars. It is a common eco friendly feature!

A car-body tilting system is a feature in trains that allows the body of the train car to tilt into a curve! It allows the train to go faster on a track (not needing to slow down on a curve) but the feature is mainly for passenger comfort! When you ride, you don't feel the centrifugal force at all when going around a curve! And it makes the ride so smooth! Here's a short video demonstrating what it looks like:

There are essentially two major ways to do a car body tilting system. There is active tilting (forced body tilting) or passive tilting (pendulum system). A forced body tilting system uses computers to tilt the train using track data or sensors, telling the train when and how much to tilt. If the calculation is not done correctly, it can leave passengers with motion sickness (An infamous example is the Advanced Passenger Train in the UK). The tilting itself I believe is done via hydraulics. Forced Body Tilting is more popular in European and American trains.

As for passive tilting, the train in the video uses it! (A controlled pendulum train!) It means it uses natural forces to tilt the train car. I'll dive deeper into this type of tilting in the Wi-Fi train section because it actually mentions it's a pendulum train! As to which tilting type the Super Multi train has... it could honestly be either.

(Ah! I forgot to mention this, but tilting trains are especially useful in mountainous regions, where there are a lot of curves.)

In the Japanese version of the Super Multi description, it also mentions that it has a "earthquake warning system" and a "tornado monitoring system".

An earthquake warning system is not something fully installed into the train, rather it's mainly a set of sensors installed along the track, coast, and major inland areas. For passenger rail, if any signs of an earthquake are detected, it will alert any trains in the affected area and drivers are required to apply their emergency brakes. For shinkansen trains it will cut off power to the affected area which will automatically activate the emergency brakes.

Well, I found something close to a tornado warning system. There is a "gust warning system" where sensors measure wind speed and to predict where strong gusts of wind would go. Again, it's not a system that is installed within the train. From what I could tell, they would restrict travel speed during strong winds. If wind speeds are too high, then they would shut down the lines. (I suppose would be very useful, especially when there's some legendaries that cause powerful storms roaming around.)

In the Japanese version of the text, it also states that the Super Multi Train is also a test train. Which again means there's also not a lot of this train. It also states that some of it's features are unnecessary due to it being a test train lol

In the description all these features are stated as "cutting edge" and "a festival of all the latest technology" when these features are not all that new? And Regenerative breaking seems to be pretty common? (Every irl train I have shown thus far all have it.) Eh, I don't think it's that big of a deal. They are just fictional trains after all.

I originally thought the train looked like an Eizan Railway Deo 800 series, but thanks to the leaks, it looks like that the JR East 205-500 was used as a base to design the Super Multi Train? With probably heavy modification to the final design. (While I don't condone the method that these leaks were obtained, curiosity did get the better of me. This is the only train that I ID-ed this way.)

This Train was exclusive to the Sagami Line, though it ended operation in 2022 and every one of these trains have been scrapped. The blue color I believe is an homage to the Sagami River that runs along the line. The Train used a semi automatic door system for its passenger doors. Which means that rather than the conductor opening and closing the doors, the passengers would press a button to open the door when the train has stopped.

Wi-Fi Train:

"This train car is a Wi-Fi Train! It is the fastest long-distance high-speed train in the Battle Subway! This is called a pendulum car. Its body tilts while going around curves, so it can run without slowing down! Faster! Farther! Our engineers' spirits are infused in it!"

A pendulum car is a very specific term!!! Like I mentioned in the Super Mutli Train section it is a type of car body tilting. There are multiple types of Pendulum systems, There is Natural Pendulum, Controlled Pendulum, Air Spring (also called Simple Pendulum), and Hybrid.

Natural Pendulum is just using the centrifugal force of when it goes around a curve to tilt the train. This type was known to cause motion sickness in riders because when it straightened out, the car would "lag" or wobble. Sometimes the force was not enough to tilt the train and this would also cause passenger discomfort. These issues were fixed later with a controlled pendulum, where there would be a degree of control to the tilting. Using mechanisms similar to forced body tilting, it would prevent wobble and ease the tilt. The air spring method, as suggests in the name, uses air springs to help with tilting. It is similar to the controlled pendulum, though it tilts less than it (controlled pendulum can tilt 6 degrees and air springs can only tilt 2 degrees). Air springs are cheaper to build though and still are able to make the train go faster. Hybrid is the combination of controlled pendulum and air springs, allowing for an 8 degree tilt.

I hope the Wi-Fi train is not a natural pendulum? You're telling me you have to battle on that and you might get motion sickness?? Though it sounds like it might be more high tech so it is most likely the other types... Hopefully...

It also states that this train is the "fastest long-distance high-speed train in the Battle Subway!" Looking at Japan's tilting trains (that are not shinkansen), they go about 120kmh-130kmh (about 75 mph-81 mph.) So it could be a possibility that the Wi-Fi goes something along those speeds.

I've looked through Japan's tilting trains, and the closest one might be the JR Hokkaido Kiha 201 series? It's not at all close though... I can't really find a good match tbh. I think the 113 series seems to be a bit more closer visually.

The one on the left is a Kansai livery and the right is a JR Shikoku livery. They are both the same train, JR Shikoku bought the 113 series from JR East to replace some aging trains and then modified it. Which is why they look a bit different. The modifications include strengthening the front of the train and adding shock absorbing material inside.

So Those are all the trains that run in the Battle Subway! However there are 2 trains that don't, instead they only show up in Anville Town on certain days. I'll be calling them "Old Train Car" and "Futuristic Train Car"

"Old Train Car"

"This train car is the kind that ran a long time ago. Compared to contemporary train cars, it has more parts, so I heard it was difficult to build. The old train cars built with lots of small parts have their own unique beauty and attract a lot of fans. Those cars no longer run in the Battle Subway, but I hear they're still used in a faraway region. Ah... I'd love to be on that train!"

So this sort of car used to run on the Battle Subway. It's said to be still running in another region, though with how old the train looks I can only think that maybe it would be running by railway preservationists.

The design of this train reminds me a lot of old Japanese electric trains and trams. Especially trams with that double roof. I don't think it's really based on any particular vehicle? Here's a couple that I found;

The only one I feel like is worth mentioning is the Jomo Electric Railway Deha 101 (this specific car is the Deha 101, others of its kind are called Deha 100 type) and the Nagasaki Electric Railway 160 type. Both of these vehicles I believe are still running to some capacity.

The Jomo Deha 101 has been running for over 90 years. While car 101 still resides at Jomo Railway, other Deha 100s have been transferred to other private companies where they have been scrapped. I believe the only existing Deha 100s today are Car 101 and Car 104 (which has been painted bright yellow.)

The Nagasaki Electric Railway 160 type used to belong to the Kyushu Electric Tramway where it was called the Type 1 Electric Tram. When it was transferred to the Nagasaki Electric Railway it was renamed into the 160 type. Today, there is a single car in operation. I believe it is the oldest wooden car in Japan that is still in service.

I suppose I will also mention the Keifuku Electric Railway Mobo 21 Type Train, it does look the most similar. Though, it's purposefully designed to look like an old style tram.

"Futuristic Train Car"

"This train car is a new train to run in the future! Wooo! Cool! Super cool! The latest motor breathes fire! Uh-oh, if it really breathed fire, that would be bad! But it is full of the latest technologies! It's undergoing a lot of testing. It's called a gauge-convertible train. It's a sweet car that can adjust its wheels to run on any rail!"

So first off, I'd like to say that this train visually kind of looks like a "Sonic" 883 series (nothing to do with the blue hedgehog, it was just a coincidence lol)

However the description!!!! A "gauge convertible train" that is undergoing a lot of testing... That description matches exactly with the GCT! (literally standing for Gauge Change/Convertible Train, though in Japanese it's called FGT or Free Gauge Train!)

The GTC is the project name for this experimental shinkansen. The one in the picture is the GTC-01, the second generation of its kind (as this is the version they would be testing before and during the development of the game, there is now a 3rd generation.) So, the term gauge refers to the distance between the two rails. Different trains run on different gauges, they can come in either narrow gauge, standard gauge, or wide gauge. Japan's rail network is mostly narrow gauge (specifically Cape Gauge.) The main exception are the shinkansen trains, which run on standard gauge. This shinkansen like the description says would be able to run on any gauge. It used to be under a lot of testing by the Free Gauge Train Technology Research Association. Today though, the GTC-01 second generation sits on display in the Shikoku Railway Heritage Museum.

There are a lot of challenges that the GTC faces. It takes a bit of time for the wheels to adjust to the gauge and you need to go slower when it's doing so. It has increased maintenance costs. The heavier specialized bogie creates more wear on the rails as well as making the train harder to detect. (Ok! Basic explanation for Railway Signaling! Tracks are split up into sections called "blocks", and a small electrical current is run between the two tracks that makes up the block. When a train runs through, the wheel and axle of the train disrupts the current, which then the system detects that block as being occupied by a train. If it is occupied, the signal lights at the end of the block will be turned red, preventing other trains from entering the same block, thus preventing collisions. The problem arises in the GTC in that the wheel and the axle are separate, thus something about this is making it hard to detect on the rail.)

With this train being a "gauge change train" it really made me wonder what gauge the Battle Subway trains runs at? I thought maybe standard gauge or maybe even wide gauge because you can only make the train so wide depending on the gauge. And you'd probably want it wider so that there is more room, especially if you are fitting a battle arena in it! However in Japanese the description mentions that "The rails are a little wider on the tracks that run at higher speeds." Which is... exactly how Japanese rail works? So the Battle Subway lines are probably narrow gauge?

Another thing that's interesting about the "Futuristic Train" is the date that it actually shows up. In Anville Town the way that each train shows up is dependent on the last digit of the day of the month, like so:

0- (10th, 20th, and 30th) "Old Train Car"

1- (1st, 11th, 21st, and 31st) Single Train Car

2- (2nd, 12th, and 22nd) Double Train Car

3- (3rd, 13th, and 23rd) Multi Train Car

yada yada you get the point (4- Super Double Train, 5- Super Single Train, 6- Super Multi Train, 7- Anville Town Train, 8- Nothing, 9- Wi-Fi Train)

The only exception is the "Futuristic Train" who will show up ONLY on February 1st, June 12th, October 1st, October 14th, and December 30th, pretty random huh? haha of course not! These dates are dates significant to the History of Japanese Railway/Transportation!

February 1st: The opening of Japan's first electric street car in 1895!

June 12th: The temporary operation of Japan's first passenger railway in 1872!

October 1st: The release of Japan's first Shinkansen, the series 0 in 1964!

October 14th: The official opening of Japan's first passenger railway in 1872, with the first two stations between Shimbashi and Yokohama! This day is also Railway Day in Japan, celebrating this event, Tokyo holds a Railway Festival and train companies like to do events on this day as well! 

December 30th: The opening of Japan's first subway line in 1927, The Ginza Line!

Rails, Station Platform, and More Train:

So the Station, there are a few details I can pick up on here!

The type of track that the trains run on (at least in the station) are ballastless tracks! It means the rail is tied directly onto a slab of concrete rather than having ballast hold it up (ballast is that rocky gravel that you often see beneath the tracks.) This type of track is quite expensive to build and makes the place a lot nosier, but it has a lot of advantages! For one, because there is no ballast to maintain, it has lower maintenance cost (ballast must be packed every now and again using a ballast tamping machine. Which lifts the track and jostles the ballast beneath it. Ballast also needs to be replaced after a while because the rocks have to be irregularly shaped for it to work, and natural weathering can make them smooth out.) It is also easier to clean and has a longer lifespan. Because the rail is tied to slabs of concrete the rails are less prone to deformation, which is good! Though it is also that same inflexibility means that it is difficult to change anything about it and takes longer to repair.

Their buffer! (that little black thing at the end of the line, I think it is a buffer?) It doesn't look like that effective of a buffer... The purpose of a buffer is to stop a train if brakes fail. Though this thing seems to be more for the driver telling them where the end is, hence all the, what I presume are, lights. Let's hope they have some sort of other safety system in place (like some sort of Automatic Train Stop system.)

There doesn't seem to be a third rail. I have a feeling that might be because most Japanese railway trains are powered via overhead wire (literally every irl train I have shown is powered this way.) Maybe the Battle Subway trains might be powered via overhead wire? I might be over analyzing here, they might not have thought of modeling such a small detail haha

The train itself has some sort of device on top (that box thing.) I believe it to be some sort of air conditioning unit. Given how each train car has one large unit on top of it, I believe that it uses a centralized cooling system, which means there is one large air conditioning unit. (There are 2 other types, they are distributed cooling which consists of 6-8 small units and centralized distributed which consists of a couple of medium sized units.) Central cooling systems are easier to install and maintain because there is only one unit to worry about.

Signboards:

The Buildings in between routes have a electronic news bulletin board, and depending on which city is connected to it, the news bulletin will give a little flavor text about the city. There's some flavor text about the Battle Subway when it's about Nimbasa City, and it different depending on whether you are playing the first one or the second one, here they are:

BW

"Run and battle! Trains never stop!” Battle Subway in Nimbasa City"

"They say someone who loved battles also happened to be a railway maniac, and thats why we now have the battle subway"

So, this might be a coincidence, but there is an old name that Japanese Train Fans used to call themselves. The name was "Railway Mania" (鉄道マニア direct translation). It was used up until the 1950s. Today it's seen as a derogatory term but it was used very commonly back in its heyday (even more popular than "railfan" apparently.) I think it is kind of interesting that the term "Railway Maniac" was chosen for this flavor text and I wonder if it has anything to do with this old name. However, I say it might just be a coincidence because the term "Maniac" is not unheard of word in Pokemon (Item Maniac, Poke Maniac, Hex Maniac, etc.) But regardless, there's that little fun fact for you!

B2W2

“Get on a train and fight!” Battle Subway in Nimbasa City"

"The energy generated by heated Pokémon battles is the fuel that keeps the Battle Subway running"

I'm going to get a little headcanon-y here. We can interpret this figuratively, as in if there are no battles then its not really a Battle Subway is it? But I think it would be fun to interpret it literally! What if Pokemon Moves could get absorbed somehow to power the Train? And if the Train doesn't need it it could go into the line to power something else in the Subway! I think that would be cool :]

Extra Stuff:

●I think the Battle Subway Map could also be inspired by JR East's rail map, the main reason is the single lines (dark green) which goes in a loop around the Unova Region...

Reminds me of the Yamanote Line (light green) which also goes in a loop connecting a variety of major stations together in Tokyo and is a very very important line!

●While I do believe Gear Station is inspired by New York's Grand Central Station, I do think there's a lot of design elements taken from Tokyo Station as well

●The gray bodies of the Anville, Single, Doubles, and Multi cars are probably meant to represent an exposed steel/aluminum body rather than the ones painted white like the Super Trains.

●In the Anime, the trains are said to have an ATO system, this is also a real system, it stands for Automatic Train Operation. It's a system that allows a computer to control when the train stops and goes with no driver involved! I don't think that the trains in the games run on an ATO system though, as there are Depot Agents who talk about train driving (Depot Agent Cameron who says "I’m good at driving, but I’m not good at dealing with Pokemon." at the start of battle, and a way more obscure Depot Agent whom you can talk to on the platform after 14 wins on a Super Train who says "I’d rather have an exciting battle than slowly drive the train.")

●In the Anime, there's a stamp rally, which is a real thing! There are station stamps in Japan which tourists can collect. Though, occasionally Pokemon will collaborate with JR East to create a Pokemon Stamp Rally! The most recent is this Pokemon Horizons Stamp Rally promoting the show! Here's a map of what stamps you can collect at each station and the prizes you can get!

●In the Nacrane city library there is a book that mentions that Nacrane used to have steam locomotives running through it!

"This book is about the things you can ride in the Unova region, such as Castelia City’s cruise ship and Mistralton City’s planes. Before there were planes, locomotives carried people all over Unova. The railway in Nacrene City is a legacy of those lines." (B2W2)

What kinds of Steam Locomotives? I suppose we will never know, as we never see one in game.

●There's an Roughneck NPC you can talk to at Tubeline Bridge in B2W2 where he says

"Watch it! People use “railway fan” as a catchall term, but there are many types of railway fans! There are riding fans, detraining fans, station fans, train-car fans, schedule-table fans, picture-taking fans, recording fans, and more! Don’t go thinking they’re all the same!" (B2W2)

So in Japanese, Railway is Tesudo (鉄道, testu 鉄- Iron and do 道-Road) and a Railway Fan is Tesudofan, however fans will abbreviate to just Testu and stick what aspect of trains they enjoy with it, so like 乗り鉄 (Nori 乗り-Ride, 鉄-tetsu) as a Train Riding Fan, or 撮り鉄 (Tori 撮り-Taking a Picture, 鉄-tetsu) as a Railway Photography fan. There are a lot of these and the NPC does go over some! There's also Railway Modeling Fans (Fans who collect model trains and/or construct model railways), Collecting Fans (Fans who collect railway related items such as tickets or stamps), Operation Fans (Fans who like researching railway operation and equipment), Regulation Fans (Fans who like researching railway handbooks and laws and regulations that go into a railway), Simulation Fans (Fans who like playing train driving/railway management games), Artists/Writers, Urban Explorers, and Railway Preservationist (I gave up on the last ones lol). There are lots of ways to enjoy trains!

There's also the super specific terms of "Mama Tetsu" where a mother becomes a railway fan because of their children's interest or "Oyako Tetsu" where a child becomes interested in trains because of their parents.

●The badge on Ingo and Emmet's hats probably represents the logo for the railway company that they work for, while researching about Japanese Railway Companies, I noticed that they have a lot of circular logos, here's a handful:

From what I could gather, these types of black and white circular logos are called a mon, kind of like a crest? If you wish to scroll about the logos, here is the link for the Wikimedia commons list.

The company's logo is also what's usually depicted on irl conductor's hats anyways, in the exact same place too.

(I was looking for a screenshot to showcase the hat to put here, but instead I found this promotional video! It's actually pretty good at going over the basics of what a driver and conductor actually do! Please feel free to check it out)

●The name "Depot Agent" is a little bit of a strange name, in Japanese the name is simply "Railway Worker", a depot is often referred to a train yard, however depot can also refer to a station, given where we see this trainer class working (at Gear Station), it is most likely that the depot in this case is referring to station, so they are station workers!

Final:

After all this I have come to the conclusion that somebody at Gamefreak really liked trains! And I really think all the little details are so awesome! and it really cements the Battle Subway as my favorite battle facility!

Anyways I hope you learned a thing or two and I hope you gained a new appreciation for trains and the Battle Subway! Thanks for Reading! ✌

(If I got anything wrong, please feel free to correct me, there was a lot of information I had to sift through and I am NOT an engineer * _ * and if you have something to add please do! I would love to learn more! ^ ^

[red-dyed-sarumane]

i need people to start paying me for every time they tell me "oh but ur arts so good ur wasting ur talent u need to do it professionally" wrong i need to do art to draw beautiful characters that not a single other person cares about while feeding every ounce of love i have into my work or to convey thoughts & feelings beyond words and to even think of doing otherwise is to deny my own nature "oh but u can do what u want and then sell it" why is everything about money to you why cant u just enjoy things at what point in ur life did u forget how to have fun

[theduchessofnaxos]

So, admissions didn't exactly go the way I wanted - I am excited about the offer I got, and it's a great school that my professor wouldn't have recommended if he didn't think it was a good program. But I applied to a lot of the top-tier "name brand" programs - some of which I was really excited about - and the closest I got to them was one MA admission. And that's a little bit of a hard pill to swallow when you're a privileged fuck who's had your family talking about how you'll do great things your whole life.

Fast forward to today, I'm watching a movie where the main character doesn't get into the top school she applied to and has a hard time with it. Texted my friends to joke that watching this was a bad idea. And I get back "I'm watching [some guy]'s tour of England and he stops in Cambridge. I think it's just now sinking in." Because my friend got into an MPhil at Cambridge.

I love my friend. And obviously I don't want her to suppress her joy about her amazing accomplishment. But goddamn lady, have some tact? 😂

[freakystinky]

OP is being a wet sock in the comments for some bizarre reason, so since I’m U.S. based here’s a link to all the United States requirements for relicensing physicians because I think it’s an imperative resource for chronically ill and disabled people to have:

Due to individual states deciding these requirements, they’re obviously insanely varied. This impacts the way that patient care is delivered SIGNIFICANTLY, especially in physicians who have stayed in the same states and have been meeting those lower standards for many years, compounding their paucity of knowledge and lowering the quality of care their patients can receive.

Generally, 50hrs/yr is the average, with retesting every 1-4yrs, but some states such as Alabama, Mississippi, and Louisiana have them at 20hrs/yr or lower.

This means, that over only 8 years of practice, an MD in Washington state (50 hrs/yr) has obtained up to 304 more credit hours than an MD in Alabama (12 hrs/yr).

You’ll also notice that states with the lowest CME requirements (highlighted) also happen to make up the states with the highest maternal mortality rates…

That correlation aside, we KNOW that CE is incredibly important, and that doctors with CE have better patient outcomes. The fact that the US doesn’t have federal regulations regarding this is just plain embarrassing (source).

The system is dysfunctional and things like this are probably costing peoples lives. We need to talk more about it; the first step to improving it is creating awareness that this stuff does exist, it’s just not as effective as it should be. As patients deserve it to be.

Relicensing is already real and a requirement, what we need to do is make it functional and regulated using our votes.

I'm so extremely serious when I say doctors should be put through an extremely extensive reliscensing process every 10 years. Doctors should have their knowledge scrutinized against current medical research and be de-barred at even the tiniest discrepancy. Too many old doctors absolutely refuse to stay up to date on research and dismiss patients because of their personal experiences. Too many people die every year because doctors don't take us seriously and refuse to listen to people who KNOW something is wrong. Too many people are told their problems are nothing and come back in a year or more with serious illnesses and doctors are just like "lol everyone makes mistakes" but doctors mistakes routinely cost people their lives! I'm tired of medical malpractice being swept away under the guise of "mistakes were made."

[tardis--dreams]

Gotta talk to the department boss tomorrow because i asked for opportunities to increase my work hours. I regret it already but i can't back out now so this is gonna be fun (:

[constantlyquestioningg]

getting the sudden urge to take a bus to a Bigger Town and have a day out and then come home (it is 23:03)

[steviescrystals]

my dad confuses me on the daily

[raeathnos]

.

[screampied]

❛ ۪۪۫۫ ༄ؘ HARLEYS IN HAWAII ❜ g. satoru

☆ sum. it’s been almost a year with your sugar daddy and as a candied sweet surprise, he takes you on his private yacht. although—the thing that’s even sweeter is the ‘love’ chocolates you both try just for fun. after all, satoru’s always had a sweet tooth.

wc. 6.6k

warnings. fem! reader, sugar daddy!gojo au, age gap (early twenties/early thirties), unprotected, aphrodisiac chocolates, marathon séx, praise, dirty talk, overstim, dry humping, feral gojo, fīngering, cervīx mentions, cunnilīngus, spīt, hair pulling, size kink, premature ejac, breedīng, petnames.

➤ sd!gojo masterlist.

“ah ah, no peekin’ sweetheart,” a husky voice purrs near the nape of your neck. your plump lips curl into a pout as he’s making you drag your feet toward wherever he was taking you to. the air felt coolly warm, so much so that it was humid. satoru told you to wear something comfortable and warm, specifically a sundress. “there we go, jus’ a few more steps. good girl,” and the rubber bottoms of your flip flops stomp against something hard—you’re assuming the rising platforms were stairs. your ears perk and twitch a bit at the sound of crashing waves and you start to grow curious.

“are you—”

“shhh, quiet baby,” he shushes you, and you feel various designer cold band of his rings dance against your skin. again, once you step into what seems to be some wooden platform, he stops you from walking, turning you to face another way. big hands cover over your eyes and your own hands before he gives your cheek a soft chaste kiss. “m’kay, ready to see your surprise?”

with a nod, he removed his palms from your face and your eyes widen at the revealed sight. a yacht, not just any yacht though, but a private one — the satoru gojo yacht that was probably worth millions. it was huge in person, and you don’t even realize the two of you are both in the middle of the ocean until seconds later. “satoru,” you sheepishly say, feeling a wave of butterflies thump through your heart. the older man’s got the cheekiest grin and he takes off his sunglasses, putting them over your face. “when you said ‘surprise’ i thought you meant like new earrings or something.”

“i can always give you those too,” he strokes your cheek, watching as you fail to maintain direct eye contact. despite having the tinted expensive lenses protect your eyes from the sun, it still shined bright—making you squint a little. satoru’s voice pitches low before he playfully lifts you up, fixing the back of your sundress. “but sweetheart, this weekend’s just about you ‘n me,” and once your arms cling onto him, he starts walking near the lower part of the rumbling yacht. “besides, i have one more surprise to show you. felt like spoilin’ you a bit more today.”

you were quite literally living in luxury. .

as if the outside of the yacht wasn’t breathtaking, just wait until you saw the master bedroom.

despite how you were slowly starting to get accustomed to this lifestyle, his lifestyle—you couldn’t help but be amazed at such royalties being given to you. his yacht was even prettier inside, but this was the norm for satoru. and with him, he had no problem sharing his luxuries with you, his favorite girl.

just for you and no one else.

but you couldn’t think but get trapped in your mind at certain thoughts plucking through your brain. you started to wonder what would have happened if satoru was never a passenger of first class when you used to work as a flight attendant.

you’d constantly wonder the what if’s, but of course you were always always grateful. it’s one of the many thing’s satoru liked about you, how you were always thankful without even saying it. you’d show it, even going far as to giving him gifts.

“imagine we lived here,” satoru hums, leaning back against the satiny cushioned pillows. the entire room was spacey, with rose-gold paint covering the walls. he brushes a thumb over his cocktail glass as he sits on the burgundy sofa. the slick floor’s a sheeny beige color, and in the background, played some old vintage noir.

‘sunset boulevard’, one of satoru’s favorites.

he preferred lots of silent films and adored more than anything when the two of you would watch them together. he’s got on a silk red robe, twirling a bit of his white shown chest hair with a finger. “life on the water. sounds romantic, yeah?”

“what if we drowned, ‘toru,” you mumble, stepping out of the bathroom. the floor was made of slick glass crystals that made up the smooth texture, and you then pause—staring at the white haired man. he’s pretty, manspread and laid back with his hair slickly parted. ever since he’s met you, he grew his hair out a little and it slightly flows near his shoulders a bit. still unkempt and parted, it gives him a more maturely modern look.

his dimples poke near the inside of his cheeks before he simpers. “princess, we won’t drown,” and he sets aside his glass. satoru’s bright eyes linger toward your sundress—one of the many he’s bought you within in the past month.

it fit perfectly, it’s a cerulean blue color that almost matches his eyes.

if it was anything he liked, it was to pick out your outfits, and of course—he’d let you do the same for him. “phew,” he whistles, eyeing you carefully. “you look gorgeous. like always,” he murmurs, averting his eyes away from the screen and now giving you his uninvited attention. your plush thighs cling together before you feel the room of the yacht grow abnormally warm. “oh, right. the other surprise i wanted to show you, c’mere.”

“okay,” you mumble, making your way toward him. satoru slouches back against the cushioned sofa, spreading his legs even wider. slut, he knew what he was doing with his robe slit halfway open, exposing his growing chest hair. a snowy white curl of hairs glue against his chest and you gawk further down toward his lengthy happy trail. god, you found yourself swallowing thickly the more you stared and you could see the smug grin forming against his thin lips. “what . . is it?”

“i remember a few weeks ago you said you wanted to try tabs chocolate,” satoru mumbles, and you watch as he pulls out a thin black cover of rich chocolate. your eyes widened.

he remembered?

you stare at the pricey covered casing, already smelling the cocoa from the wrap. it was true . .

you teased satoru about wanting to try tabs chocolate one day, just to see if it was really real. you were curious on if the chocolate really could help invigorate and arouse people in the bedroom. satoru shrugs, glancing at the cursive writing displayed on the candy. “. . so, i got it for us both. i don’t think it really works, by the way.”

with an eye roll, you plop down on his lap. a beefy arm snakes around your waist before you grab the slim package. “i checked the ratings online. ‘m pretty sure it works, satoru,” and he gives you a complacent nod with his hands raising teasingly. calling your bluff quietly, he watches you tear the plastic all the way open. his eyes follow your fingers and how they swiftly drag away at the nearly wrapped material. once everything’s removed, it’s an entire dark chocolate bar with three perfectly attached squares. even the smell was arousing. “do you wanna try it at the same time?”

“how ‘bout you feed it to me,” satoru coos, and you feel what you think is his leg prodding underneath you. “i’ll feed you yours, sweetheart.”

damn, even his sentences sounded vaguely dirty.

you felt a lump grow in your throat before you blink thrice, holding up the bar of candy. “f. . fine,” you huff, and you watch as his perfectly parted lips sprawl apart. at the same time, you both slowly feed each other a small bite of the chocolate. the moment the rich taste of maca cocoa and sugar falls onto your salivating tastebuds, you let off a soft hum. it’s sweet, but you remember reading online that the effects would take a good twenty to thirty minutes to kick in.

satoru chews it, swallowing it and he scoffs. “honey, i think you just got scammed. nothing’s happening—”

famous last words. .

because not even thirty minutes later, satoru finds himself dived nose-first right between your legs.

he’s feral, on his knees for you and all. usually, satoru would shower you with lots of foreplay, kissing down your neck, your thighs, every part and inch of your body — but now, he couldn’t.

not when he felt so hot, his body felt like it was it was scorchingly on fire. and of course, satoru being satoru just had to lick your fingers after you fed him his single piece of chocolate.

you’re laid up on the sofa now, whimpering with a hand digging through his shaggy white locks.

satoru’s the most deranged he’s ever been, and you’ve seen him feral for you in more ways than you could count. he’s laying his tongue flat, lapping up your sweet folds, still tasting the chocolate on his tongue with the mixture of your own slick.

“f- fuuuck,” he’d huff, feeling his heart beat thump through his ears. it was barely even a big bite and he was like this. you couldn’t help but imagine how he’d be if he ate the entire bar.

you’re moaning, glancing out the window and taking in the breathtaking view of the dancing choppy waves staring right back at you. a pretty serene canvas of rotating waters—you found yourself getting lost at the sea, gazing at how the waters would violently crash against the bottom of the yacht. it’s a mesmerizing view. after a while, your eyes move back down toward satoru who’s still between your legs. he’s lowly groaning, slowly rutting his hips into the edge of the sofa. “ ‘s like the candy makes you taste sweeter.”

“don’t stop s- satoru,” you moan, making sure to keep a firm grip on his head. his pretty lashes were closed shut whilst he’s swirling counterclockwise circles against your puffed clit.

fuck, you felt a gasping shriek snatch out from the back of your throat once you felt him starting to suck. he was always messy - always.

tangled strings of saliva would dribble down past the corners of his lips, flopping onto your sweet cunt. satoru had the kind of tongue where you’d feel him everywhere.

he flicks it around everywhere, spelling out every letter of his name before spitting on it, licking it up directly afterwards. a palm smears his bubbling saliva before he laps it up again, thrusting his tongue in and out. “ooooh,” you’d squeal, feeling him wrap his mouth around your pussy. you’re twitching inside every few seconds and he feels your cute dramatic pulses. beryl blue eyes that blissfully shine against the sunlight flicker up at you briefly and he’s got that same smug grin again.

“mphm, pull on it,” he grunts, and you whine once he traps your swollen clit between his teeth, holding your throbbing nub hostage. satoru can feel himself getting more and more hard, all because of the sweet melodic sounds that left from your lips.

both lips, on one end you’re hysterically moaning and the next, you’re squelching repeatedly.

his favorite thing to listen to—satoru’s favorite place out of all the places he’s taken you to, had to be between your thighs.

at his words, you weakly give him a soft tug, grabbing a nice handful of his perfect locks and he gets tugged forward. “good girl,” he huskily grumbles, resuming to lick two long stripes up and down against your cunt. forever more, he’s savoring your syrupy taste that lingers on his tongue and dribbles from the chin down, moaning from the aftertaste of the chocolate that just won’t go away. “god, this view’s even prettier than the ocean,” he licks his lips, and you feel yourself pulsate once he breaks away for a split moment to catch irregular breaths.

satoru swipes a thumb over his naturally glossed lips, whistling against your pussy just to feel your sensitive nub throb on his tongue even more.

“oh, she’s a cutie,” he rasps, white brows pursing together. he pulls out two long fingers, preparing to delve them inside. “so pretty ‘n all soaked just for me,” and you moan, your thighs curling around his shoulders. squiiish, the moment he’s easing his lengthy thin fingers inside, you gush out a bit right on him. you were indeed wet . . sopping.

you were already a bit drenched from before, and with the chocolate, you felt even more aroused. it felt like being on a rush - a sugar rush.

satoru huskily coos, delicately curling his fingers further inside before he reaches your g-spot within just two inches of a stretch. “there it is, there’s my other favorite girl.”

“sato—fuucckk,” you drag out your pathetic words, gradually moving his head to side against your sopping cunt with one hand. he’s got his mouth full, stuffed, and his entire face was just flushed from being squished between your thighs. “like that, s- suck my clit, baby.”

“baby, huh?” he mocks your sudden pet name, feeling your fingers comb through his messy frosted strands. embarrassment washes over you and he chortles, finding your reaction to his teasing downright adorable. you whimper as he’s still vigorously scissoring long twin digits inside of you. as your stomach submissively caves in, you start to gnaw on the bottom of your lip. “aw, don’t be shy. i like bein’ called petnames too, y’know,” he whispers against your cunt, watching how easily you soak up both fingers.

your folds couldn’t help but drool. streams of your own slick cascade down between the crevices of your thighs and coat the entirety of his fingers.

with a rosy flat tongue, he slurps you clean, taking every few seconds to pull his fingers out - only to push them right back in.

as your eyes squeeze shut, you start to feel your teeth clench and shatter together from the rhyming pressure.

there, once the fat tips of his fingers poke against your g-spot again, and again, and again. .

that was all it took for you to let off a cute three second shriek. abruptly, a sharp twisting coil snaps within you and he feels your thighs turbulently shake within his feeble grasp.

“fuck, fuck,” you whine, feeling his lukewarm breath continue to ghost against your clit. you couldn’t stay still for the life of you—it was as if every muscle in your body snapped once you came, your jaw dropped and your eyes widened.

“ohmygodohmygod,” you ramble, and satoru’s still flicking his tongue against your sobbing slit.

you’re making a mess out of him and he’s eating it up - like always. his pointed chin’s got such a pretty glimmer of shine all thanks to your glimmering slick running down. with a echoing ‘pop’, he slides his fingers out of your cunt, stretching his digits further apart just to see how your sap glues against them. “ngh, s- satoru you’re so nasty.”

“only nasty for you, sweetheart,” he cheekily whispers, leaning further in to give your cunt one single kiss.

it’s a soft passionate smooch that makes you throb against his lips. only satoru gojo could make out with your pussy right between your thighs. you’re speechless—you could feel yourself still shaking from your recent orgasmic release, the ringing in your ears never subsiding.

satoru’s pretty azul eyes remain fixated on your wet cunt before he gives it one final suck of departure. “mmph,” and his growing white stubble starts to drench even more all because of your sweet slickness that smears against your the lower part of his face. “fuck, ‘m still hungry. ‘s not enough.”

as your legs twitch and remain spread apart, you’re gasping for air as you watch him take breaths of his own to collect himself. “don’t pout,” he huffs, sitting up to close the distance between you both. with his hair all ruffled and tangled—he grinds himself into you. “oh. you want a taste too, pretty?”

“y- yeah,” you nod with droopy eyes, feeling the same amounts of sheer heat.

satoru’s flushed just as much as you, and it seems like as he’s leaning into you, he’s moving in slow motion. once his lips crash onto yours, you moan into his mouth.

he wastes no time shoving his tongue down your throat, pulling on the straps of your sundress. you feel a wolffish grin curl against his lips once his tongue delves even further into your mouth, feeling you part your own away. satoru can’t help but grind against your warm body, feeling your legs hook around his waist. even the touch—the skin against skin makes you both even more hotter. it’s like static rubbing off against each other, and you were about to feel yourself short circuit any minute.

“fuck, ‘toru,” you whimper between sultry sloppy kisses, loud teeth smacking and clashing together. you slowly drag a hand down his hairy chest, twirling a frosty strand around your finger.

the taste — it’s candied sweet.

the rich cocoa still lingers on both twisting tongues and you moan, feeling him nip his teeth near your lip. “you’re perfect,” he gruffly purrs, his voice having its same deep rasp. his kisses become more and more filthy and rough and he playfully licks underneath your chin. “mhm, woman you drive me crazy.”

satoru was still very much hard though—very.

you could feel his boner poke from his robe, it must’ve felt painful.

he was so hard, it outlines against the silky woven fabric the more he grinds into you. satoru couldn’t keep his hands off of you. he’s leaving an invisible trail of kisses all down the slope of your neck, sucking against your tender exposed skin. you always tasted sweet than any chocolate he’s ever eaten.

but it’s to his surprise once you lightly push him back against the cushioned sofa.

“hmph! hey,” he falls back, white strands sticking across his perspiring forehead. satoru eyes you with a bewildered look, wondering what’s with the sudden bratty glint shining in your dilated irises. “that was rude, princess. oughta—”

“lie back,” only two words and he was at your very command. satoru couldn’t lie, whenever you had the audacity to give him orders . . he found it hot.

even if it didn’t last that long,

the white haired man slouches back at your command, roving his eyes down your body. he studies the pretty sundress that hugs against your curves and the way you move.

satoru ogles openly as you made your way on top, straddling him before slowly throwing your arms over his broad shoulders. “relax satoru,” you’d breathe, and he groans the moment electrifying friction kneads against his lap. all because of your hips swerving on his raging boner, you cause a spark that ignites within you both. to say you were a ‘mere’ tease was an understatement. “like that, hold my hips baby,” and his big hands gradually move toward your rocking waist. you start to jerk against him real slowly, casually grinding yourself on his lap. you swerved around, guiding his hands to where you wanted them to go.

“oh, s. . sweetheart,” he choked out a nervous laugh, his boner steadily arising underneath his robe.

for a moment, the two of you forget that you’re both on a yacht, surrounded by nothing but smooth pretty bodies of water. it was as if it was only you and him in the entire world. time stood still. it was like you were moving slow, and the more your body moved, the slower time got.

satoru stares at the way you playfully sway your hips against his. he groans, the cloth from his robe that protects his hardened cock continuing to rub against his skin. “you’re killin’ me here. let me touch some more at least.”

“ask nicely,” you lean in closely, pressing a kiss near the left side of his cheek. satoru shivers from your touch, his jaw feeling heavy. such a tease, but that’s what he got for spoiling you rotten.

with a near pout, satoru grumps. “please, sweetheart,” and his big hands glide toward your active waist anyway. “let me touch my pretty girl while she’s movin’ her cute hips on me,” and his playfulness returns within a blink of an eye. you hear the cheekiness in his voice and he leans in to nip a kiss near your neck. “fuckin’ brat.”

“then do something about it.” you whisper with a coy grin, resuming your salaciously addictive movements against his lap. satoru grunts, his brows contorting together in frustration before he grabs your wrists, pinning them up.

satoru’s now got you in a secure grasp and a hand snakes down your waist, giving your ass a soft squeeze. a jiggling nice chunk goes into his palm before he seductively licks up your neck. “i plan to, little girl.”

and he did.

one second you’re on his lap—the next, you’re lightly being slammed on all fours, cheek smushed ruthlessly against the padded sofa.

you squeak out a tiny gasp, feeling him practically tear your sundress apart. satoru groans, staring at your bare ass cheek that’s peeking out of your loose clothing. you’ve got a bratty smile twirling against your lips but it soon fades away once you feel that.

his fat tip—satoru brings it up towards the opening of your sopping cunt, smacking it three times against your folds. “you’ve got some nerve, sweetheart,” he clicks his tongue, hearing your broken whimpers return.

god, even your pussy felt warm against him. fiery electricity surges through you both and he hisses, watching as your pulsating pussy desperately tries to swallow his cock wholly.

he’s so big, you knew it and you didn’t even have to face him directly. all you had to do was feel.

his tip was round and thick, reddened with a rosé flushed color. satoru tosses his head back, feeling your pussy twitch against him as a sloppy greeting of its own.

“heh. she’s so excited,” he breathes through clenched teeth, already breaking a sweat. the yacht continues to slowly create distance in the background but at that point, no one was even thinking about the yacht. “so. fuckin’. wet.”

he smacks his weighty dick against the outside entrance of your pussy, hearing the sloshing whines squawk out of your poor needy folds. as he’s hitting his tip against your cunt, he purposely punctuates his words with tap.

“satoruuuu.” you’d moan, desperately aching for him to just go in already. you wanted it, and the searing heat you felt coursing through your veins just from the chocolate made you throb ten times more.

“i know, baby. i know,” he coos in a rough voice, talking over your whiny babbles. panting heavily,

satoru glances down once his leaking tip finally disappears inside of your drenched cunt. you let off a shaky breath, even going so far as to wriggling your ass back against him just so he could hurry the fuck up.

“tsk. so impatient,” he snickers, velvet straps of his robe skimming against his skin. satoru’s got a bulbous fat curve and with a single hand, he gives his cock a few stroking pumps.

one, two, three . .

he groans once a bit of loose skin from his coral colored frenulum peels back. as he’s stroking himself every few milliseconds, a prodding vein pokes against his palm. bristles of white hairs that glue against his thickset base tickle against his skin.

“mhm, gonna take my time with you. now let’s see that cute arch. just like we practiced.”

moaning, your back raises slightly with your knees cowardly burying themselves into the sofa. “mmph,” and he lightly pushes your head further into the cushion. his tip was so close.

he’s hitting you from behind with his thrusts slowly, on purpose.

he wants to hear those sweet sounds cry out from your lips. satoru grunts once he’s finally going in, thick cock stretching around your elastically stretched walls.

you’re so soft — sweet gummy flesh compressing around him with such ease, wringing him tight like a vice. satoru groans, giving his chiseled hips a single shimmy before pursing his lips together.

“thaaat’s it, hngh. this pussy knows it’s place,” he grouses, and your eyes widen once you feel his plumpish tip delve further between each corner of your slick cunt. he’s fucking thick, and within seconds later he was already inches in.

once his flushing crown disappears inside of your cunt, you whimper once he gives you one single thrust that causes your entire body underneath him to quake. “fuck, ‘s so sensitive,” satoru nearly whines, still feeling tingly from the saccharine flavored treat. he’s panting heavily, mouth dangling open and all. “how’s it feel, sweetheart? ‘m not going too rough, yeah? talk to me.”

“good. feels good, ngh. don’t stop, ‘toru. harder,” you beg, a hand of yours reaching from behind, crawling near your ass. you eye satoru through your blurred peripherals as you turn slightly around and he flashes you a sleazy grin.

that’s the look he makes before he’s about to fuck you stupid,

that’s the look where his eyes were hooded and half lidded, panting heavily like a dog with multiple thin strands of white hair sticking across his forehead.

you were fucked, literally. .

“hah, wasn’t gonna,” he moans, feeling his cock grow insanely sensitive. it was in a way he couldn’t explain—so hot, his head swells up once he starts to move.

as he’s trying to create a decent rhythm with his hips, he’s oscillating deeply into your core. sloppy thrusts pound into you with such carnal vigor that he’s basically humping against your cunt.

every few elongated seconds that dragged out, his tip mercilessly smacks against that target buried deep inside your cunt, striking a perfect bullseye.

‘x’ makes the spot, and his dick always knew where to locate your clit — every single time.

it doesn’t take long before satoru loses it, and he’s losing his momentum. his movements consisted of want and ache.

the head of satoru’s cock was turgid, slowly dragging in and out of your puffed clit as you damp up his entire length. you whimper, feeling the legs of the sofa rattle and jitter from underneath you both. he’s got mean deep strokes that leaves your jaw dropped, toes curled, tummy churning all from how good he’s hitting you.

you’re cutely smothered into the pillows with your mouth just pried open, forming a small gasping ‘o.’

every stroke, every hit, every smack against your ass, you felt like you were on cloud nine - the lewd dirty version no one ever talks about though.

satoru’s got a big hand tracing down the curvature of your waist that later trails down toward your ass. he can’t help but feel against the thin fabric of the sundress, tempted to just rip it off it you. he’d be happy to buy you dozens more anyway.

“fuck me, fuck me satoru,” your eyes roll crisscross, and your entire body feels itself repeatedly ringing from the merciless slaps of skin hitting against each other with determined might to reach his well awaited potency.

he’s bucking his hips against you, watching as tears of sweat start to race down the cracked valley of your ass. “fuck, ‘toru, satoru—ah!”

“heh, sweetheart the walls aren’t soundproof,” satoru playfully bonks the back of your head. your moaning falters, and he chuckles mid-thrust. “aw, don’t be embarrassed,” and you let off a soft gasp once he presses his sharp hips all the way against you. a beefy arm wraps around your neck in a safe hold before he grunts in a husky whisper right up against your ear canal. “ ‘m sure the captain won’t mind, be as loud as you want.”

“s- shit,” you whimper, already starting to feel your thighs struggle to stay afloat. satoru towers over you completely, rutting into you from behind with irregular toe-curling hits.

he’s meanly jackhammering you further into the sofa, the screeching sounds of the seagulls outside growing louder. the loud reverberating claps of skin that roughly ricochet against skin makes your ears ring like bells on a wedding day.

as he’s feeling his cock tighten inside of you, he’s now got you in prone bone. he’s so close to you, hovering his weight behind you with his sculptured hips glued to your ass.

satoru’s thrusts now go slow, slow but deep, making sure you feel, savor, and devour every single inch. “ugh, that spot ‘toru, right fuckin’ there. ‘m close.”

a hand goes over your mouth and you let of a muffled, ‘mmph?’ as he’s still fucking you raw.

satoru’s popping his bulbous crownhead in and out of your stuffed pussy before lowly groaning once coolly air briefly sets against his skin.

“watch that mouth,” and you whimper, feeling his free hand grab near your neglected breasts. you lean into his touch, feeling a bit of your own saliva dribble onto his palm. a thumb of his swipes against your perked nipples that poke through your sundress and you let off a muffled moan. “such a filthy pretty mouth. ‘s a shame,” and he leans in more, licking a stripe near your neck. “i don’t think girls with colorful mouth’s should cum. do you think they should?”

as if on cue, your head raises up and down, doing a cute attempt of a nod as he’s still got your mouth covered. satoru’s still thwacking his fat cockhead into your g-spot continuously until your brain’s short circuiting.

“awww, yeah?” he hums, pressing a kiss near the back of your head. and oh, he’s cocky again, deepening his hits against your core. removing his arm from around your neck, he raises your hips up just a little bit for a more better and thorough angle. “too bad, because i wasn’t talkin’ to you, silly girl.”

and you moan even louder once a rude buck of his hips snaps into you at such untamed speed. you gasp right away, your entire body trembling beneath the sofa. “talkin’ to her,” and as his hand drags down your back, he maneuvers a few circles against your stuffed clit.

you’re whimpering, occasionally glancing out the window. the waves continue to crash against the port side of the yacht background — beautiful.

you’d never get used to the view. the salty smell of the sea wafts against your flaring nostrils as you’re literally being stuffed full of cock, eyes rolling back with your back completely arched. satoru’s so big, splitting you open with his vast mushroom tip so easily. “god, she’s got so much to say today, listen to her cute ‘lil sentences,” and he briefly pulls out, hearing your cunt ‘pop’ out a word or two, wetly squelching from the continuous thrusts.

satoru’s throbbing cock drooled from the sides with seeping white droplets of pre-cum and he groans once he feels himself tightening yet again.

“fuck mee,” and he takes a second to stare at your pretty cunt that’s got your folds slobbering with so much honeyed glistening sap. “aw, she said no,” he teases, dragging a sleazy thumb down your pleading saturated entrance. your mess quickly soaks against his fingertips, making him just as wet as you. satoru feels you writhing against his touch, begging for him to finish and he chuckles. he tsks, wrapping a hand around his shaft before another hand wraps around your neck. hmm. does the pretty baby deserve it? after that ‘lil stunt you tried to pull on me?”

“s- satoru, please,” you moan, feeling your weak legs gradually buckle against the fuzzy furniture. you swallowed whatever pride you had left, feeling your mouth suddenly grow dry as the anticipation grew.

you were so close - right there. practically. gnawing on the bars of your enclosure.

he knew had to tease you, keep you on the edge of your toes. with your ass cutely trying to raise up and move back against him, you let off a sobbing moan. “lemme cum, please. ‘m sorry.”

“no you’re not, sweetheart,” he whispers. aligning himself again between your sniveling slick slit, his wide pink tip leisurely starts to stretch throughout your gummy walls yet again. oh, that part. the way his hefty hanging curve twists its way inside, you felt like you were tasting literal ecstasy. “are ya?”

“no,” you moan, still having a bit of brat left in you.

satoru snickers, the expensive band of his watch gliding against your hip as he holds you in place.

“at least you’re honest,” and you shudder, feeling him lick a long stripe up your sensitive jugular. his girth was so broad and wide, you feel him dip every inch inside of your cunt and you were sure you were gonna break.

he treated you like a doll—specifically a rag doll, tossing you and fucking you where it hits good.

but, fuck was satoru was ruthless.

he’s unapologetically sloppy with his thrusts, making you grind back into his pivoting hips. as his sack hangs back against his loose skin, he smears his lax lips together, groaning at how effortlessly you were squeezing against him.

“fuck, you’re gonna make me cum too, sweetheart,” and as his body’s still pressed right against yours, he hoarsely grunts lowly against your ear. “give it t’ me, make a mess on ‘toru, baby.”

his words poured into your ears like silk, smooth like honey. each sentence he spoke had an effect on you, more than the love chocolates ever did . .

you felt your pussy sporadically convulsing just from his raspy out of breath tone alone.

satoru’s rotund cockhead continues to bruise against your cervix, sloppily kissing around each spot until you’re practically screaming out his name. “louderrr,” he purrs, kissing down your neck once more.

the coarse smacks of skin continue to echo against the walls of the spacious yacht bedroom and satoru grunts.

oh, he’s whipped.

his hips start to slow down by each second, and you feel that pressure within you finally snap. “that’s my girl, thaaaat’s it,” and he talks over your whimpers yet again, creating a wet trail of kisses down your shown shoulder blade. “atta girl, atta fuckin’ girl.”

the both of you groan in unison and after a while, he shortly follows. satoru’s cock was so full, he’s snapping his hips into you at such a wicked speed that you could barely keep up. his stamina was simply unmatched.

you let off a whine and so does he—seeping his teeth into your neck. “hngh, fuckin’ shit.” and as he grabs both of your hips, slowly reeling you back into him - he’s cumming, hard.

thick ropes slowly spurt into you, spraying right near your womb and he lets off the sexiest moan.

it lasts for a good seconds, and it’s like he got defeated — your pussy being the opponent. .

satoru’s washboard abs flex beneath his rope as his head tosses back. it’s an almost growl that leaves his lips. his sensitive tip locks into your tightening entrance, still feeling ribbons of satiny ropes dribble into you at such a snail like pace. it’s so much.

he’s staring to pant more and more as globs of sweat pouring down the sides of his forehead. satoru’s cock shrivels up inside of you and he gives your ass a soft spank. his sweltering hot crown stills itself inside of your cunt as he stays still, lavishing in the sensitivity of both slick mounds enjoy the sticky feelings of fluids combining in lewd felicity. both bodies rut against each other and now it was his turn for his eyes to roll back.

“s- satoru,” you quietly whimper out, feeling the bubbles of creamy wads ooze down between the fat crevices of your thighs.

a lustrously white ring forms around his tender base before he gradually starts to pull himself out. you’re still reclined, feeling your entire body heat up even more. your sundress was still pulled up to your waist and he groans, tugging at the fabric with one hand, another touching his own mess he just created that’s spilling down your thighs.

“such a sloppy girl,” he huffs, out of breath. even still, he’s cumming inside and merrily fills you up to the very brim.

you moan once he slides back in, only to pull his aching tip right back out out. it’s another loud ‘pop’ that resounds through each of your twitching ears.

holding a sharp breath, satoru’s cock slathers itself against your drooling pussy before smacking it against your folds yet again. “look at that, ‘m never gonna get tired of that sight.”

satoru ends up fucking you stupid for hours on his yacht.

in all positions—any position, he moved you toward the bed, folding your poor limbs like a pretzel while his cock continued to massage through your walls by stretching you open. satoru made sure you never forget the barrage he made inside with his lengthy length.

satoru was always whipped for you, but it’s like with the addition of chocolate, it made him ten times more feral. ten times more feral for you.

he’s hungry, you could see the look in his eyes. how his pupils were blown, how he made sure to give you romantically deep yet nasty strokes.

his body would rock against you in sync against your own while the yacht that carried you both continued to judder in the background.

he pumped you full—stuffing you entirely again, and again, and again . . simply put, he was virile.

like he said before, you drove him crazy, and he was starting to think to himself, maybe . . just maybe, you weren’t just his sugar baby anymore.

each time he’d spray a generous amount of cum inside of you, he’d let out a loud guttural groan. he’s weak from how warm you feel from the inside, and your moans for him to keep going only fueled him. satoru’s a literal animal, manhandling your body and fucking you everywhere he possibly could in the master bedroom.

the sofa, the bed, the wall, against the mirror. .

his favorite,

he loved to wrap a hand around your throat, making you stare at your lewd facial expressions right with him. the way your glossed lips would part and your eyes would widen once he makes you stare at the slight bulge that pokes against the lower part of your tummy. he’d serenade something to your ear in a purring deep voice like, “feel me there, sweetheart?” making you touch the exact spot he was hitting.

a pearly stream of his seed dribbles outside of your folds and now, he’s got you in nothing more but an intimate mating press.

“eyes up here,” he rasps a soft panting tone, gently prying your hands away from your face.

he’d just coaxed you through yet another orgasm, and your entire body felt like it just ran a marathon. you were sure by now the effects of the chocolate had worn off for the both of you - it did.

but with satoru, he looked like those many rounds didn’t even faze him. not one.

he’s still lodged inside of your cunt, his tip spitting out thick ropes for the nth time of the night and he groans. your eyes glance down his snowy happy trail and glance at his sharp v-line that’s tensing up from the stimulation. “you . . took me so well,” and he leans in, pressing a tender kiss against your lips.

“mmf—” your arms wrap around him, entrapping his skin waist with your legs. his toned body rocks itself into you for just a few more times before he steadily pulls out. his flaccid cock rests against your bare tummy and you moan, tasting the last few remnants of sugar that lies on his tongue.

satoru’s heart beats rapidly, and once he opens his eyes to stare at you, he knew you were dangerous.

tresses of white hair glue against your skin once his forehead lightly pressed against yours. within seconds, after he found himself pulling you into another deep kiss, something was different. this time, out of all the kisses you shared with him, you think this one meant something more.

it was far more slow and passionate, his body rocks against yours and he groans in your mouth, feeling your hands scratch down his soft skin. you leave a painting of scratches all down his back, a canvas he can’t wait to look at later.

as your tongue continues to tangle with his, strands of spit form into translucent cobwebs before he starts to suck on your tongue. “god, woman you drive me insane,” and he pulls away, completely out of breath. his pretty lips were all glossed and swollen, and he cups your face. “sweets, i—,” he cuts off, locking eyes with you.

his heart was pounding,

telling him to say it - just say it.

but the way you gave him that look . . your arms remain wrapped around him, limbs tangled with each other and he lets out a soft sigh. delicately, he pulls out and watches you let off a soft moan once you were now clenching around nothing.

“ah,” he shakes his head, leaning in to press a kiss against the corner of your quivering lip. “i . .” and a lump gets caught in his throat.

you strum a thumb against his undercut, a simple gesture that you knew would always soothe him.

the white haired man leans into your touch, his heart practically yelling at him to just spit the words out before he speaks against your lips, slowly lifting up your leg, kissing your ankle.

“i think . . i think ‘m in love with you, sweetheart.”

[espytalks]

Sorry to anyone whos been getting spoilers for the pokeyman game dlc because they're waiting untill thier birthday or christmas to get it. Im sorry content creators have to eat everything and spit it back up in a minute in order to catch trends and gain views to stay relevant. It shouldnt have to be this way.

[jackleopard]

ughhhh cannot decide if I want to spend my money on these pair of Reeboks or not

[typheus]

my game is out for delivery 👁️🫦👁️

[textmel8r]

[ DRABBLE ] 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 ! ( ninth installment ) in which you are forced to plan a corporate event with your office enemy .

୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. nine. ten. eleven.

୨୧˚ incl; kento nanami

୨୧˚ cw; profanity , alcohol consumption , inebriation , sexual harassment , violence , vomit

୨୧˚ an; i love nami kempo (dis shit like 4k werdssss) ALSO i’ve been getting comments that my tag list isn’t working for me dumb someone help me pls tell me what im doing wrong

୨୧˚ join my discord server ! we share headcanons, fanfic recs, color roles, and more drooling emoji

“Why am I here?” Nanami thinks out loud, glaring pointedly around the unlit dive bar. It’s unglamorous, walls garbed in eclectic music paraphernalia, references that go right past him. Flurries of reds and yellows and oranges in the decor cut brightly, shining through the dim atmosphere. Seriously, would it kill them to switch a light on? It bustles with life; university kids, Nanami is subjected to think based on the… unique fashion sense present in the room. Street wear, torn jeans, crop tops way too short to be considered shirts anymore. He cringes, feeling entirely too dated to be hanging amongst this kind of crowd. His leg bounces restlessly under the ledge of the bar, and he turns to look at you. “Why are we here?”

You’re smiling—actually smiling—flagging down the bartender. “You knew we were coming to a bar,” you cut yourself short, holding up a single finger to him whilst you relayed your order to the older gentleman behind the bar. A rum and coke, you asked politely before glancing toward Nanami. It took a moment for him to realize what that look meant. 

“I’ll have scotch, neat. Thanks.”

“As I was saying,” you steal back his attention, “I made it clear we were coming to a bar. What’s the problem?”

There was a hint of an attitude catching at your words, and Nanami felt his brow twitch in frustration. “You failed to tell me that we’d be in…” He grimaces, peeking back over his shoulder to the sea of youthful patrons slinging over nearly every stool and booth. “ . . . Mixed company.” God awful pop music fizzles through the speakers, twisting and crackling with pops of static; fuel to the billowing flames of Nanami’s overstimulation. “I was expecting something a bit more sophisticated.”

“I can tell,” you’re laughing as you give him a once over, and he gets a shiver of Deja Vu from the coffee shop where you pulled the same exact move. You tweeze at the expensive cotton button down, plucking the bunched fabric of a sleeve at the crease of his elbow. “Thought we said no more fancy clothes?”

Tonight he threw together a plain white shirt and a pair of slim fit khaki pants; the quintessential dad outfit, sure, but fancy? Nanami didn’t think so. “I’m dressed down.”

“Nixing the suit jacket and tie didn’t do much. You still look stiff, man.” Two glasses are brought over, one placed before either of you respectively. Nanami stares down into the glass, a foggy, brown abyss. His alcohol looks watered down and piss cheap. “You stick out, it’s kind of embarrassing.”

“Oh please, you’re too kind.” Nanami rolls his eyes, hunching over the bar and downing a swig from the scotch. Yeah, It was definitely watered down. Fuck this place. 

Your hand slaps his back. “So dramatic. I was kidding Nanami, you look fine.” A cheeky laugh reaches his ears before you tack on, “very handsome.” 

Now he knows you’re messing with him. 

You grin into your cup. “Stop sulking. It’s not so bad here.” Nanami would beg to differ. A debate that isn’t worth having because frankly, it’s a Saturday night and he doesn’t have nearly enough energy to draft a list of all the cons that this joint has to offer. “We got booze,” you raise your glass. “Booze makes everything better.”

His forehead wrinkles. “That’s a horrible mindset to have, Y/n.”

Your boisterous laugh outweighs the ambient chatter, and you take a hearty gulp. Nanami follows suit, albeit a bit awkwardly, tipping more spirits down his throat. You look surprisingly comfortable, slinking against the bar counter with a hazy smile that welcomes strangers in. This time, you weren’t wearing a flowery dress; instead, a low cut shirt and jeans, both equal parts dark and tight. The neckline plummeted deep, exposing slivers of your bra cups and entirely too much cleavage. By God, was his self restraint something to write home about. 

It was easy to fall into comfortable conversation. All in all, Nanami enjoys talking to you now, even if once upon a time the thought of engaging with you evoked such dread that he’d outwardly avoid your presence around the office. Passing along orders specifically meant for you to other colleagues and entrusting them to deliver the message, lengthening the conveyor belt of relation simply because you got him in a tizzy. Back then, all Nanami could see when he looked at you was that cowardly girl in the bathroom with smeared lipstick and a trembling pout. How shameful, he thinks, that it took him this long to see past that terrible first impression. 

“So there I was, balancing ten cups of coffee, shaking like a little bitch,” you laughed as you shared an anecdote from an internship in your university years. Nanami listened intently, head propped up on his fist as he watched your theatrics. Your cheeks flushed with the evidence of alcohol, eyes lidded, smile wobbly. Nanami was feeling the edge of his buzz coming on too, an amazing revelation considering the diluted alcohol this place served. “And I’m walking up ten flights of stairs–”

“Ten flights?” He gawks, feeling looser and matching you with melodrama. “What, did your office not have an elevator?”

You laughed. “It was out of order.”

“Your luck astounds me.”

You flip him off playfully. “I finally get to the last stair and my heel catches on the floor and I eat total shit in front of the entire room!” Nanami can’t stop his own tittering, cupping a palm over his grin. “Spilled the coffee everywhere, twisted my ankle, too. I probably laid in that puddle for ten minutes.”

“That’s why you don’t wear high heels anymore?”

There’s a grimace on your face when you nod, topping off the rest of your glass. “Mm.”

Nanami swaps his own story, of a time when he was in his third year of college and his work laptop got stolen. “I think I cried,” and you guffawed at his misery. “I’m serious, I really think I cried. Alone, on the floor of my dormitory. It was finals week, and I had written my dissertation on that laptop.”

“So what did you do?”

“I pulled an all-nighter in the library on campus and rewrote my entire thesis.” Merely remembering that chaotically stressful night had Nanami huffing a sigh of anguish and dragging an exasperated hand down his face. 

The bartender slides you another drink. Gosh, he was lagging behind. “I would’ve dropped out.” You spoke over the rim of the glass.

“Trust me, I was really close.” Nanami’s eyes narrow, gaging the swell of your throat as you knock back a few swigs. “How many have you had?” 

“A few.” Your answer was blunt, and from that Nanami could gather that his question had rendered you the slightest bit irritated. He understood why; you were a grown woman, who was he to regulate how many rounds you decide to have? But even with this understanding, the man couldn’t shake his concern. “More than you, old timer. Keep up.”

He shakes his head, scratching at his cheek. “This is my last for the night.” Any more, and Nanami would wake up the next morning nauseous with a pounding headache. He took precautions to avoid breaching his limits, he really disliked that hungover feeling. 

You gawk at the declaration. “How lame.” Then you hiccup.

“You can call me lame now, but which one of us will wake up tomorrow not in pain?”

You wave a hand through the air, brushing off his very astute observation. “Hush, that’s for future me to deal with. Present me doesn’t have a care in the world.”

You’re immature, but it’s amusing, so he doesn’t offer any rebuttals. The way you are so insistent on living in the moment is fascinating, almost inspiring even. Nanami feels as though he’s ever crushed by the impending future, always so concerned with what the next day, next week, next month, next year brings. He thinks ahead to a fault, and because of that, forgets to enjoy the little things. But you always stop and smell the roses. It’s admirable. 

“Bartender!” You wag a finger in the air, slamming down your empty glass. Fiending for yet another drink. 

Okay, maybe your ability to live in the now is to a fault as well. Nanami holds a hand up, signaling the barkeep to halt. “Sorry,” he apologizes politely, “she’s all good for now, thanks.” Ain’t that the truth. Your face looked tacky with sweat, pupils scarily dilated. Your words come out dimly slurred, and your gestures uncoordinated. As your business associate, he feels obligated to intervene at this point.

A hand slaps his down. Your hand. “Hey what gives?” You’re upset with him. “Just because you’re done doesn’t mean I am.”

“You’re three sips away from throwing up on yourself,” Nanami deadpans, unphased by your drunken outburst. Unbeknownst to the two of you, another patron had taken up the stool opposite of you. To be expected; the bar was decently crowded, that being said neither of you paid much mind to the man. He was younger than Nanami for sure, his hair unkempt and shaggy, swept back by sweat and something that looked like grease. He was smiling, probably on some brand of dope that Nanami was unfamiliar with. The stranger interrupts, leaning over with his elbow planted on the countertop. 

“You her father or some shit?” He speaks without any warning, catching both you and Nanami’s attention. 

Father? Nanami internally grimaces, jaw tightening. Just how old does he think I am? Trying not to be offended by the inquiry, he corrects the man. “Just a concerned friend, that’s all.” You have yet to speak, still a tad caught off guard by the unexpected company. 

The stranger’s grin widens, reaching shit-eating status. “Then hop the fuck off her case, man.” He shoots a pair of lidded, droopy eyes toward you, eyebrows jumping in a manner that is entirely too suggestive for Nanami’s liking. “If the lady wants another drink, then let her have another drink.”

Nanami feels the awkward tension thicken the air between this interaction. For all the shit you talked about getting hit on in bars, he would have never expected you to act so timid when put in a position like this. Nanami fully expected you to side with the latter party, to order another round of vodka-whatever and then leave with your newfound knight in shining armor. What actually happened: “No, er, my friend might be right actually,” followed by an incredibly strained chuckle. Your shoulders stiffen, Nanami can practically feel the way you harden up beside him. “I should probably take it easy.”

The man feigns grief. “Aw, c’mon. You seemed so eager before. Let me buy you another?”

“She just said—”

“I was talking to her, not you.”

Nanami was utterly shocked by the sheer gall this young man possessed. Was he trying to intimidate him? It was painfully ineffective. “I don’t want one,” you said with a little more oomph this time, fiercely hanging on the urge to defend Nanami. It made him feel strangely prideful. 

The stranger’s smile never retreated, but something sinister glinted in the ocean of his dark eyes. He gave a sniff, brushing the point of his nose with the pad of his thumb before hurling yet another unwanted flirtation your way. “Baby, hey, what’s one more drink? I saw you from across the room, I’ve been dyin’ to chat you up.” Under the table, his hand slips into your personal space. Nanami sees it unfold in his peripherals; the pallor hand slithering over your lap, grabbing a handful of your denim-clad thigh. You yelped in surprise, wincing. Nanami saw it all.  

He was not a violent man. In fact, he could count the number of times he’s thrown a punch in his life on one hand. Physical fights were pointless, a waste of time and energy because Nanami wholeheartedly believed that altercations were best settled with words. But the moment your nervous squeak found his ears, Nanami couldn’t control the urge to beat this guy’s face in. So that’s what he did; sliding out of his seat to round you and pull the stranger off his stool by the collar of his faux leather jacket. The material felt cheap and mingy, not something Nanami would ever be caught dead wearing. Without so much as a second thought, Nanami sends a heavy fist barreling into the meat of his cheek. One good, solid punch, and the sinewy gentleman was tumbling to the ground, walking the thin line between consciousness. “Shit…” Nanami breathes, chest heaving with barely concealed rage, knuckles throbbing to the beat of his racing heart. The bar went dead, too many pairs of eyes locked onto him to count, but the only ones he could care about were yours. 

You looked at Nanami with such astonishment, with your eyes pried wide as dinner plates and your mouth ajar. He was ready for you to yell at him, to curse him for embarrassing you in a pub you frequented, but nothing came. Well, almost nothing. 

“Security!” The bartender hollered thick and deep, slapping a damp rag onto the counter with a wet plap. 

“Shit!” Nanami repeated, cuffing a hand around the thinnest part of your wrist, tugging you into his side as you both raced toward the exit. “Let’s go.”

You’re gurgling and grumbling, latching onto the material of his shirt as little bouts of complaining bubbled past your lips. “Not so fast!” and “Oh God, my stomach” and “I don’t feel good.” Nanami had been reduced to your crutch at this point; he bore the entirety of your weight without batting an eye because your own legs were too wobbly to do it yourself. 

“I know,” he murmured, maneuvering through the crowd. “Hold it together, we’re almost there.”

The first step outside felt like entering Heaven. Nanami basked in the cleanliness of the chilly night air, gulping down a big breath of fresh oxygen that hadn’t been tainted by marijuana smoke. But suddenly, you’re detaching yourself from his hip and he’s bewildered by your sudden need for proximity. “Y/n—”

He turns to face you, only to be met with the crown of your head. Doubled over at the waist, hands on the lower fraction of your thighs, you vomit onto the dewy pavement… and his shoes. Nanami’s cursing once more, drawing closer despite how much you obviously don’t want him to. “Alright,” he coos in exasperation, gathering your hair into a bundle and holding it away from the splash zone. “It’s alright, get it out.”

“You’re… Did I just puke on y-your feet?” Your voice is croaky, something of a mixture of embarrassment and illness. You can’t even look at him. 

“Stand up,” Nanami tells you. He’s unbending you, straightening your body upright with a hand pressing your back in from his bowed shape. “Can you look at me?”

You pout, childlike. “No.” You’re looking at his shoes, the toes slick with remnants of your stomach acid. 

“They’re just shoes, I have a million pairs.” His head cocks to a tilt. “Would you look at me, please?”

You’re sighing, but looking up to him nonetheless. Gazing up with big, glossy eyes and wet lashes that clumped together through tears. Eyeliner diluted and cradling your undereyes in a dark embrace. You wipe your mouth with the back of a palm, smearing shimmery gloss out of the confines of your lip line. It’s all so nauseatingly familiar, this pitiful display. Nanami decides he hates seeing you like this. 

“I’m sorry,” you chirp. 

“Don’t apologize.” 

“I’ll pay for them.”

Nanami puts a hand on your shoulder when he notices the slant in your posture. “Cut it out, that’s entirely unnecessary.” He looks around the parking lot, full of vehicles. They catch the glint from the yellowish street lamps. “Did you drive here?” He thinks it’s unlikely, seeing as you let yourself fall under such intoxication. You weren’t so irresponsible; if you drove here, you would’ve made sure you’d be able to drive home too, like he did. 

You’re shaking your head. “Caught a train.”

Nanami nods, pleased. “Good. That’s good.” With all the grace and gentleness in the world, the man loops your limp arm back around his nape, securing you against his oblique with a sturdy arm snaked around your waist. Everything is ginger, lest he upset your stomach again. “Are you good to walk?”

“Yeah, I think I’m alright.”

“Then let me take you to my car.”

That pulls a frown from you. “You don’t need—need to drive me there, Nana’. The station—” Hiccup “It’s just down the road.”

The blonde glowers. “You can barely stand on your own, public transportation is out of the question.” Like Hell he’s going to let an obviously inebriated, attractive young woman such as yourself ride the subway alone. Please, don’t make him laugh. “I’m driving you home.”

“It’s out of your way.”

“I don’t care.”

It’s a slow race, but Nanami eventually hauls you to his car parked at the entrance of the lot. A midnight shade Maserati; he doesn’t miss the way you gawk at his luxurious ride. “If I had a car like this, I’d never leave it.” He laughs. You smack his bicep. “I’m not kidding, I’d sleep in this thing. She’s gorgeous.”

“She says thank you,” he huffs his response. Nanami leans you up against the side of his car, pinning you between its door and his thigh while he opens the passenger door. “Watch your head.” His hand curls around the roof’s ledge, a makeshift cushion to protect your skull as you duck into the car seat. Immediately, you’re slumping back into the comfortable leather interior, moaning out quiet mewls of exhaustion. 

“Yeah, I’d definitely sleep in here.”

“Keep those eyes open.” The door swings shut, and Nanami makes haste when rounding the rear of his car to the driver’s side. He had barely toed the line of sobriety anyways, but knocking a stranger on his ass was definitely more than enough to woosh any semblance of haziness from his veins. Nanami wouldn’t think about driving—wouldn’t think about putting you or anyone else on the road in danger—if he felt even the slightest bit impaired by the scotch. Behind the wheel, the man leans across the center console to grab your seat’s safety belt, carefully dragging it over your chest and clipping it into the buckle. “I need your address first, then you can knock out.”

“My address…” You ponder, lips pursed and eyes blinking at a snail’s pace. Sleepiness prevails, and you fall in and out of slumber, head lolling and cheek mashed up against your shoulder. 

Nanami carps, unappreciative of your inability to stay awake long enough for this much needed conversation. “Hey,” he bleats, patting the top of your thigh. “Come on, Y/n. I need to know where you live.”

You whine, rolling your eyes at his persistence. “The city.”

“You live in the city.” Nanami deadpans at the useless information you’ve just spared. 

“Mm.” And then you’re drifting back to sleep. 

Nanami pinches high on the bridge of his nose with a thumb and forefinger, over the permanent divets where his glasses have drilled into his skin. The contortment of his fingers sends another spike of pain over his bruising knuckles. “Wake up and give me a proper address.” He supposes his heated seats aren’t doing much to stave off your tiredness, so he presses his knuckle into the off button. You whine. 

“I don’t remember, okay?”

That’s how you ended up at Nanami’s home, tucked under his lavish sheets in his bed that’s entirely too big for one person. Your outfit had been neatly folded and piled upon his dresser, exchanged for one of his tee shirts and a pair of sweatpants that were cinched at the waist. He helped you into his clothes—with your undivided consent, of course. A completely clinical and respectful process; Nanami looked elsewhere, acting as a handle for you to hold onto as you stepped into the oversized pants he held open for you. They were far too wide, falling off your hips, so he took the time to tie a precious, little bow with the drawstrings. 

“Comfy?” He asks upon his return to the bedroom, holding a glass of tap water in one hand, a bottle of pills rattling in the other. You’re exactly where he left you; swimming in his bedsheets, the comforter hoisted up to your chest. Nanami sets the water down on the bedside table, then takes a seat on the edge of his mattress, working the bottle open. 

“I’ve never been more comfortable,” you sigh blissfully, taking a deep inhale. “Your blankets smell good.”

The blonde can’t help his chuckle. “I’ll give you the name of the laundry detergent I use tomorrow.” With deft fingers, he plucks two small tablets, light pain medication, and sets the pair on the table next to your water glass. 

“Promise?” Your tongue pokes out from between your teeth, playful. He chides an airy yes, snapping the tylenol bottle shut. Then, your smile fades; you’re averting your eyes, fixing them somewhere over to the blank canvas of Nanami’s gray, bedroom wall. “Hey, um…” He watched the side of your face, watches the flex of your jawline and the tension in your neck. “Did I—I didn’t really throw up on you, right?”

You rub at your temple, like you’re trying to find the memory but it’s just out of reach. “No,” he replies instantly, steadily, like it’s not a complete lie. Like his bile-ridden shoes aren’t sitting outside on his front door step, waiting to be cleaned. “You don’t remember?”

“It’s fuzzy,” you grumble, frustrated with yourself. “I had too much.”

Normal circumstances permitted, Nanami would’ve totally took this opportunity to have his I told you so moment. But you already looked  upset, maybe a little bit sick still, so he bit his tongue for you. “Some drunk imbecile interrupted us. We shared words, and then he got sick on us.” He was pleased with himself, his story must’ve been believable with the way you nodded along. 

“And then you punched him, right?”

His face drops. “That’s what you remember?”

Your shrug. “I don’t think I’ll ever forget it, Nanami. Not for my entire life.”

“Kento.” You hum, confused, so he reiterates, “I mean, call me Kento. I just clothed you, I’d say we’re close enough.” It’s true, you guys were getting more and more comfortable together by the day. Even outside of work and the management project, Nanami and you share text conversations more frequently than he would’ve ever imagined. And these little hangouts—granted, only two have been executed thus far—have been the most fun he’s had in ages. More fun than he’d ever hope to have with his ‘friendly’ business colleagues. You’re his friend. 

You, Y/n L/n, are his friend. What a strange fucking twist of events, it nearly gives Nanami whiplash. 

“Ken… To…” You speak each syllable slowly, peeking up at him through your eyelashes. He nods, grinning easily. Happy. “Kento, Kento, Ken—”

“Okay, okay enough.” He rises, arms raised as he gives a hearty stretch to his back. “It’s bedtime. Over there,” Nanami points at a door, “is the bathroom if you need it. You’ve got water here, and make sure you take the medicine in the mornings. You’re going to have a terrible migraine.”

“Wait, where are you gonna go?”

“I’ll take the couch for tonight.”

“Kento…” You whine, and he really wished you wouldn’t do that. “C’mere. There’s room.”

You’re patting the expansive open space beside you, peeling back the heavy blankets. It’s an enticing offer, to slip in beside you and feed off your body heat. To hold you to him and— Stop, what are you thinking? Stupid. “I think it’s best we don’t. Sorry.” And then he’s fleeing to the door because the way in which he worded that made the depths of his soul curl with cringe. Nanami bids you a polite sleep well before leaving you to the darkness, though he has enough sense left to keep the door cracked just in case you should yell for him in the night. 

likes and reblogs are appreciated !

tags . • @justbelljust @amnmich @ti-mame @silkija @maddietries @vyntagei @ebrysteria @aesukuni @lololooolleonnaaa @nanamiswife22 @r0ckst4rjk @mizzfizz @saiki-enthusiast @taelattecookie @enchantingkitty @kindadolly @reinam00n @hqtoge @syamamas @numblytemporary @xxravenxstarxx-blog @bloomedintome @guacam011y @jameinfrau @luvvmae @kazisupreme @nowhoremones @https-tank @venjrnjrbhrr19 @ya9amicide @darkstarlight82 @archivefortoji @alczam02 @kaiparkerwifes @kenz1eluvs @iaminyourfloors @queeen-goldfish @beautifulloverwitch @nxuriah @invisible-mori @hexrts-anatomy @katharinasdiaryy @moonlightazriel @mermaidian02 @squishies0102 @saintkaylaa @vi-ola666 @alettertonana @seeyapizzazz @jtoddlover

[luveline]

Hi, love! Hope you’re well <3

Could we perhaps have some more single dad Spencer? I miss him and Amanda so much

tysm lovely❤️❤️ —Spencer misses you when he’s not working, so Amy tries to fix that. fem, 1.8k

Spencer thinks about quitting the BAU, sometimes. It was all he ever knew how to do for a long, long time, and the work is important. He’s not too shy to say they need him. 

When someone else needs you more, you start to wonder if work is all there is. 

“And… kiss!” 

Spencer scrunches his eyes closed as Amy leans across to kiss his cheek. She’s decided that every time they finish a drawing, they should kiss. Spencer’s enjoying it very much. 

“Good job,” he says, “that was your best one yet.” 

“I’m getting good at bugs.” 

To their left, they have opened a huge copy of The Modern Encyclopaedia of Bugs: Insects, Arachnids, and Myriapods. Spencer has purchased many, many books in his life, and this was somehow the fifth most expensive, but it’s worth it, because it’s what Amy likes. She loves laying down on her stomach with a pack of art crayons and drawing the intricate details of each creature. She is, as she said, getting very good at bugs. 

“I meant the kiss,” he says, leaning forward to tuck her hair behind her ears, mousy brown like his, twice as soft. “But the drawings are amazing every time.” 

“If I… if I draw this one for Y/N, do you think she’ll like it?” 

“She loves everything you draw her, baby,” he says softly, stroking another stray hair behind her ears. If she wasn’t so busy colouring the leg of a spider in concentrated strokes, he’d pull her into his lap for a cuddle. 

“I’m not a baby.” 

“You’re my baby,” he says, and she is. Spencer Reid has a kid. Who’d ever think it? 

The older she gets the more right it feels. He’s a dad. He was always meant to be one to Amy. 

“Amy, can I have a cuddle, please?” he asks softly. It’s fine if she says no. 

She throws her nice crayons down immediately. Usually he wouldn’t say anything, but they’re a gift from his mom, so he says, “Be gentle with your things,” as she climbs over her paper pad and the encyclopaedia to land in his lap. 

“So they’ll last longer,” she says.

He wraps his arms around her in a solid hug. “Exactly. The kinder we are to our stuff, the longer it lasts. That’s why–”

“Why you’re nice to your body,” she finishes for him. “Dad, I know.” 

“You know everything.” He closes his eyes and breathes her in. Amy’s hair smells like lavender kids shampoo, her clothes like detergent. They stood in the softener aisle and Spencer, on his knees to match her height, took down bottles for them to smell the caps one at a time until they found the best one, settling on apple blossom and jasmine. “You smell nummy.” 

Amy rubs her face into his chest. “What do I smell like?” 

“Really clean.” 

“So when I’m dirty, I smell yucky.” 

“You don’t ever smell yucky,” he mumbles, relishing the weight of her in his arms. “Oooh,” —he grabs her under the arms and ushers her right into his neck— “my Amy, I’m so happy to be home. I missed you sooo much this week.” 

“But you’re home next week.” 

Spencer has started consulting more and going on cases less. He’s glad to do it, he can afford it, and Amy will never be any younger. He’s never been happier balancing work and family, except… 

He used to see you everyday. It’s fine, he’ll choose Amy every time, but he wishes he didn’t have to, because he’s starting to miss you too. 

“I’m home,” he says. “For the next sixteen days. Maybe longer, if they don’t need me then. Hey, tonight, I was thinking we’d go swimming.” 

Amy makes a strange noise. “Um, well maybe not tonight.” 

“Are you kidding? You love swimming.” 

“I know, but I don’t want to go tonight.” 

“Why not, angel? We can get your pool noodle and the paddle boards.” He lets his nose wrinkle. “Is it your swimsuit? I guess we haven’t got a new one in a long time. We can go shopping first. We can go now, if you want to.” 

“Daddy, I asked Y/N to come over.” 

Spencer laughs. “What?” 

“I texted her.” 

Spencer realises she isn’t joking and holds her away from him. “You what?” 

“You left your phone in the bathroom,” she says defensively, her eyes on his shirt, “and I was washing my hands and it was boring and I thought you maybe missed her.” 

“How could you know that?” Spencer asks. 

“Because you talk about her lots, dad.” She shrugs. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry! No, no, it’s okay, it’s nice of you to think about me. That’s really kind.” Still, his stomach hurts thinking about it. “Did she… text you back?” 

“She said she’s coming over.” 

“She did?” Spencer asks. “Did she say when?” 

“She said five thirty.” 

Spencer checks his watch and feels his heart drop. “Oh my god.” He gets up with Amy in his arms, rushing to the mirror to see them both in their pajama’d disarray. “Oh my god! We need to get dressed. Amy, we need to brush our hair.” 

Spencer panics harder than he needs to, but seeing you in fifteen minutes when he thought he might not for another two weeks is stressful. He decides Amy will have to wear new pyjamas, that he’s going to have to put on jeans, and that both of them could have used a shower to tame the mess of their hair, his curly, hers fine. He sprays hers with detangler generously, brushes gently, and plops her in front of the air conditioning unit plugged into the window to dry. He’s barely raked a hand through his own hair when the door is being knocked. 

He can’t help squinting unhappily at Amy. She’s totally set him up. 

She smiles back, and he feels awful for not smiling too. 

“Amy, can you give me more warning next time?” he asks, crossing their living room to the front door. 

She smiles wider. “Yes!” 

“Okay, thank you.” 

He thinks, Ouch, I’m not very nice, then thinks Why would she do this to me? before settling on, Everything's okay. Amy didn’t really do anything wrong, Spencer isn’t mad at her, and you’re waiting on the other side of the door to see them. 

You smile on the stoop —how lucky is Spencer to have all these pretty girls smiling at him?— and adjust your bag over your shoulder, the cloth tote bag hooked on your elbow slipping and sliding with a rustle. 

“Hello!” you say. “Where’s the little lady?” 

“Hello!” Amy calls. “I’m by the air conditioner trying to get dry!” 

Spencer lets you in. You nod your head gratefully and put your bags on the sideboard, dumping your keys in the bowl beside his, and offering your now empty arms for a hug. “Hello,” you say, “you smell good.” 

Spencer panics. “You smell good.” Your arrival has brought the smell of Chinese food, and your jacket smells like perfume. 

“Dad says I smell good too.” 

You part from Spencer gently to bend down, meeting Amy at her height, arms out to offer a hug. “I bet you do. Hi, lovely girl, I haven’t seen you in too long.” 

You lean into her with care. Spencer suspects you think she’s much more breakable than she is, but you’re sweet about it regardless, giving her back a good rub and humming happily when she hugs you back. She’s way less careful. 

“Don’t strangle her, Amy.”

You pretend to choke. Amy laughs like a fiend. 

“I missed you,” Amy says. 

“Oh, sweetheart, I missed you too.” Spencer knows how good that must feel. “Can I get a good look at you?” 

Amy springs away to pose. Her damp hair kisses her shoulders, her pants hide her dirtied socks. Spencer forgets that he wants to impress you and instead sees how cute she is, laughing to himself as she does a swift spin and slips into the side of the couch. 

“Spence, she looks so much like you,” you say, grinning. “Don’t you think so?” You catch Amy’s eye. “You’re gorgeous! Can I see another one of those spins?” 

Amy spins. You nudge Spencer in the hip. “I brought dinner like you asked.” 

Spencer covers his face. “Was I polite?” he asks cautiously. 

“You said can I please have my favourite Chinese food and can I please have a soda,” you say, laughing, so at least it’s clear who was really texting you, “so yes, you were very polite.” 

“I don’t know what got into me.” 

“Guess you really, really, really missed me or something.” 

He loves Amy, and he wishes the wood floors beneath you would eat him whole; while it may be obvious that Amy’s posed as her father on the phone, it’s also clear that you, as a profiler, seem to have made assumptions as to why Amy would text you in the first place. 

“It’s okay,” you say, watching Amy as she races to her sketching papers and the encyclopaedia, “I really, really, really missed you too. Even though it’s only been two days. Did you get taller?” 

“No.” He gets the distinct sense that he’s getting flirted with, but he also doesn’t understand the compliment. “Same height, why?” 

“Feel like this is taking much more effort than usual,” you say, your hand on his shoulder as you lift your chin to kiss his cheek. 

Spencer follows you on instinct, not to kiss you or anything, but your elbow in his hand, almost begging for another. 

“Oh, no,” Amy says. 

Spencer feels your elbow but remembers himself, and raises his head. “What’s wrong, baby?” he asks, scouring her for injuries where she stands in front of you both, her drawing in hand. 

“Now you gave Y/N cooties.” 

Spencer blushes worse. “Oh, I didn’t kiss her! And I don’t have cooties, do I? I give you kisses all the time!” 

“You’re my dad,” she says. “But you’re a boy.” 

You pat him on his warm cheek. “He’s a boy, sure, but he’s not gonna give me cooties, don’t worry. I’m not here to see daddy, anyways,” you say, though your hand on his shoulder rubbing softly hints otherwise, “I’m here to see you. Let’s have our spring rolls before they get soggy, yes? Yum!” 

Spencer wants you to stay for much more than dinner, but dinner’s a good start. He swoops Amy up to carry her to the kitchen table —she’s such a babe, she deserves princess treatment only.  

“Kiss?” Amy asks. 

“Thought I had cooties?” he asks.

“Daaaad. I was joking.” And she wasn’t joking, but Amy gets her kiss.

[gurugirl]

Little Flower

Summary: You're startled during a power outage late one night when your co-worker, Harry, is at your door, drenched from the rain. How does he even know where you live? 

Word Count: 4,468

A/N: This is a bit dark you guys! It's a classic stalker story so just keep that in mind as you read and only consume what you can handle! xoxo

Warning: smut, cheating, dark elements, coercion, stalking, aggressive male behavior, size kink, breeding kink, and sort of dubcon via manipulation

. .

You always loved rainy, stormy nights. It was the best time to snuggle up on your couch with a blanket and a pint of ice cream and watch scary movies. You were supposed to go out with friends but the weather had changed everyone’s plans. Some streets were even flooded and it just wasn’t going to be worth it to get out in the storm to go to some bar and drink gross, expensive drinks and then figure out how you’d get home.

This was far better, you determined, as you dunked your spoon into your cherry chocolate cheesecake ice cream.

Definitely better.

But then a sudden loud crash of thunder shook your windows, making you drop your pint of ice cream onto the floor at the same time you were suddenly shrouded in darkness when your electricity went out, taking your entertainment of the slasher movie you were watching with it.

You tore your blanket off your legs in annoyance and reached down for the ice cream container when you heard another noise making you still your movements as you listened through the heavy sound of rain and wind. It was coming from your back door. You strained your eyes to see through the dark as you placed the carton of ice cream on your coffee table and reached for your cell phone so you could investigate the noise.

Turning on your flashlight app to the brightest setting (thank god for modern technology) you made your way to the kitchen and peeked out the door’s window. But there was nothing that you could see.

You pursed your lips to the side and looked down at your phone and it was then you realized you had no cellular service at all. Which was odd. Sure the wifi was out with the electricity but cell service too? The storm must have knocked out a tower you supposed.

It was 11:47 pm. And since the electricity was out you figured you’d just go to bed. You couldn’t mindlessly scroll social media if you couldn’t get on the internet. So maybe this night wasn’t definitely better than going out with friends would have been.

You sighed to yourself and shined your cell phone light over the floor to make your way to your bedroom when there was the sound of a knock at your front door. Four harsh raps that had you stopping dead in your tracks.

You certainly weren’t expecting anyone and who would be out in such a heavy storm so late? Turning off the flashlight you slowly approached your front window to peek out but it was difficult to make out who was standing in front of your door. You could tell that it was a man but not much more.

Three more urgent knocks startled you, making your skin chill and putting you on edge.

You took a chance to peek through your door’s window at just the edge, hoping the man wouldn’t see you peering out but just as you did so a flash of lightening lit up the entire space around you as well as your front porch and you blinked as you recognized the man at your door.

It was someone you worked with.

You relaxed as you waved out the window and then opened your door. His hair was wet and his clothes were soaked, making his shirt cling to his body.

“Harry! What are you doing here? What’s going on?”

He looked behind himself and placed his hand on your doorframe, “Can I come in?”

You nodded and pulled your door open for him to enter. His presence felt heavy. Something was different about him. You weren’t sure why exactly. You didn’t know him all that well but he seemed nice enough at work. But in that moment he felt like a different person.

Closing your door you turned to face him, trying to push down the odd feeling you were getting, “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Got caught in the rain and just needed a spot to ride it out a bit. S’okay if I hang out here until it lets up?” He stepped in toward you which put you right back on edge again.

“Uh… I mean yeah. Sure. Were you in the area? I thought you had a car.”

Harry’s dark figure loomed over you as he spoke, “I have a car. It’s down the street. And yes. I was nearby.”

You backed up for some space, “Oh. Did your car break down?”

“Something like that.”

You tried to steady your breaths. Something was off.

“Did you enjoy the flowers I got for you, Y/n?” Harry’s chest was rising and falling heavily as if he’d been running just before.

“Um…” you looked down at the cell phone in your hand and back up to the man as your eyes began to adjust to the dark, “Was that you? I didn’t realize… I thought they were delivered to me by mistake.”

You’d gotten flowers sent to you at work on Friday afternoon. A gorgeous bouquet stuffed with lovely flowers in a pretty glass vase. At first, you thought your boyfriend had sent them but when you texted him he got upset that someone else had sent you flowers.

The card read “To my little flower.”

You chalked it up to being sent to the wrong person because there was no name on anything.

Harry shook his head as he moved closer, “Those were from me. So were the chocolates the week before. And the gummy bears before that. But I was disappointed to find out you had a boyfriend.”

You swallowed and felt your back press into your door. You wondered if you could make a run for it but Harry twisted your deadbolt and then placed a palm flat on the wood next to your head, “How long have you been seeing him?”

You nodded, “Umm. For almost a year.”

Harry turned his head to look around your living room. You were feeling all kinds of weird things in that moment.

The first was fright. Harry’s sudden aggressive behavior was a shock to you. You were also feeling very curious about what was going on. Why was he in your home? How did he know where you lived? What was he planning on doing? But the most concerning thing you were feeling was that trickle of adrenaline and excitement.

Because that was another thing. Harry was probably the hottest guy you’d ever seen. All the girls at work gossiped about him in private. Talked about how fit he was, how handsome, his hair, his eyes, his voice… You did find him quite alluring, you’d just never gotten the chance to really get to know him. Plus you had a boyfriend to think about so getting close to another man wasn’t a good idea anyway.

“A year? Really?” You could see the outline of his face and the slope of his nose as he licked his lips, “And he’s not here right now with you?”

Shaking your head you kept your eyes on his. You didn’t know what his next move was going to be.

And when he lifted a hand up to delicately run his fingers over your cheekbone a shiver was sent down the knobs of your spine and you closed your eyes, “No. He’s at home. He doesn’t live here.”

You heard a small laugh press through his nostrils, “I know he doesn’t live here. I’m just fucking with you.”

You opened up your eyes in confusion and you saw a smirk on his face, but he didn’t back away from you to give an inch of space.

“See I’ve been keeping track, Y/n. I know almost everything there is to know about you. Pretty little flower needs something her lame boyfriend can’t give her.”

A shuddered breath left your lungs, “What do you mean?”

Harry’s gentle fingers at your cheekbone lowered to your jaw, “I mean look at what’s going on right now for example. You’ve got the big bad wolf standing in your living room, ready to do ungodly things to you, and your shithead boyfriend is safe at home, probably with his sidepiece because he never cared about you in the first place.”

You swallowed and shook your head, “What? Sidepiece?”

Harry’s dark chuckle vibrated out of his chest as his thumb ran up the side of your neck, “That’s right, little flower. Marco has been cheating on you. Some skinny girl with ratty hair. God only knows what he sees in her when he’s got you at the helm. A shame you’ve chosen such a loser. I would worship the ground you walked on if you were mine.”

“What are you going to do to me?” You had a hard time keeping your thoughts in a straight line. Marco was cheating? It could be a ruse. Perhaps Harry was lying. But also the stroke of his thumb at your neck was pressing harder into your skin and it was causing your head to go dizzy and your limbs were heating up.

Harry’s pink lips curved up into a wicked grin, “I have a few things that I’d like to do to you. Would you like to hear them?”

Did you want to know? Was he going to hurt you? That, you didn’t want. You weren’t much of a fan of pain. But if he were to force himself on you somehow… Maybe if he were to take you to your bed and do something ungodly to you… well, what would that entail?

“Yes.” You squeaked out pathetically.

That dark smile on his face widened, “That’s a good sign, flower. Honestly, I kind of expected a little more of a struggle from you. But you seem to like this so far. That’s going to make this so much easier. So much better for us.”

He moved in toward your face and then you felt his breath on your jaw and down your neck before he spoke against your skin and you felt that icy prick of exhilaration cover your body, “I’ll be soft with you as long as you let me. If you fight me it’s going to be a lot less soft, understand me?”

You knocked your head up and down in an affirmative nod as you held your breath.

His plushy mouth pressed over the side of your throat and you felt his tongue drag upward to your jaw, “First I want to taste you. Need to know what you smell like. Find out how thick your arousal gets and what your flavor is on my tongue.”

You gulped down the moan you nearly let out as you closed your eyes and his lips nipped over your skin to the front of your neck, “But then I want to know what you feel like, Y/n. Want to know how it feels when your insides are wrapped around my cock. Want to hear your pretty voice saying my name when you come. Want you to forget all about Marco. Because I want you for myself. Yeah?”

You felt like you were in a dream. Maybe it was just a dream. One of those strange fever dreams that feels like it’s happening but then it feels too weird to be real. And if it was just a dream… well what was the harm in it?

“Yes.” You whispered, your voice hitching up an octave.

“Yeah? You want that flower? Because if you do there’s not going to be any turning back. I won’t be able to let you go after this.”

You lifted your shaky hands up to his chest, feeling the moisture from his shirt under your palms. His heated skin underneath was taut and well-muscled. But of course, you knew he was strong and fit.

Harry kissed up your jaw and then his mouth was pressed against yours and the sizzle of your bodies pressed together was like an electric shock to your system as your mouth opened for his with ease. You smoothed your hands up his pecs, to his shoulders, and then to the back of his head into his wet hair. You allowed a moan to fall from your mouth against his and he shifted his hips before lifting you up by the back of your thighs and making you wrap your legs around his waist as he walked you to your bedroom, like he knew exactly where he was going.

He dropped you down to your bed and peeled his shirt off. So many tattoos that you had a hard time making out in the dark but you saw the inky designs, some blending together, some letters, numbers, drawings…

You felt his hands tear down your night shorts, taking your cotton panties with them in one quick tug, and then he began to undo his pants, pushing them down his sturdy legs as he kept his gaze on yours.

You felt like a different person. Like this was happening to someone who was taking over your body. The darkness of your room lit up with a lightning flash and then the heavy roll of thunder shook your house.

Harry crawled over you, his bulky frame covering you completely as you felt his fingers pulling your t-shirt off until your breasts were bare and the cool air of your dark room covered you in chills.

But he dipped down and placed his warm palm on one of your breasts while his mouth suctioned at the other side, pulling gently at your nipple and then lapping at your skin until he moved to the other side, warming your skin with his lips and his saliva.

“Gah!” You panted as you felt his teeth dig into your bud and you lifted your head to peer down at him.

Harry smiled against your nipple and then lifted himself to look down at you, “Sorry. Said I’d be soft. Might just accidentally nip at you here and there. You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this to you, Y/n. How desperately I need you,” he ducked his face down between your breasts and dotted hot kisses down the center of your tummy until he gripped the inner parts of your thighs and pushed them apart so he could tuck himself in between.

You let out the loudest gasp you’d ever let fall from your lungs when you felt his soft lips peppering kisses up your labia. Harry’s tongue jutted out between your crease and you felt the warmth of his wet muscle slide up until he bumped into your clit.

“Oh flower…” he breathed against your cunt, “Better than I imagined…”

When he wrapped his plush lips around your clit you sucked in a sharp breath and let your head fall back into your blankets as Harry’s arms caged you in by the back of your thighs.

You’d never been eaten out with such enthusiasm. Marco always acted like he was going to hurt you so it usually felt like a limp rag against your pussy, which did absolutely nothing for you. But Harry felt like a real man with a warm mouth and a big wet tongue going at you like he was frustrated. Crazed.

His moans vibrated over your core and up to your hips as you wiggled under him, softly bucking yourself up against him.

“Oh!” You moaned loudly and reached down to grab onto anything when you felt his hand pull at yours and slide his fingers between your digits as he pressed it down into the mattress. But he did not let up his licking and sucking and it felt like the whole world would crumble around you if he let go of your hand.

The sound coming from between your legs was proof of how wet you’d gotten. He had worked you up into a frenzy without much effort at all. You weren’t sure if it was the way he was eating you out, or the very strange circumstance of him showing up at your place and making some kind of claim on you but you knew you’d give yourself to him if that’s what he wanted. Even if it was wrong. Even if made you a bad person. Even if Harry was a bad person…

“Shit! Oh ffff…” you yelped when he focused on your clit and it stung your flesh in the most salacious way you’d ever felt. You swore he was sucking the soul right out of you and inhaling it whole for himself.

Your whines grew loud as you squeezed his hand and his shoulders pressed harder into the backs of your thighs. He said he’d be soft but this wasn’t soft. It was better. It was hot and twisted and you should have been ashamed at how much you liked it but you were on the cusp of an orgasm and you couldn’t stop yourself.

The world around you went blank except for Harry’s mouth and his hand wrapped around yours. There was no telling how long you were shaking or crying his name or how loud you’d been or even where you were in that moment.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you felt those soft pink lips gliding up your body and then finding your neck, a harsh suck making you coo in ecstasy. Everything in your body felt exactly right. Harry had turned you into another woman and his warm body covered you possessively. You were his and he’d just shown you that.

“Tasted like sunshine and butterscotch,” his lips smeared over your cheek hotly, “My little flower deserves her cunt eaten properly every day. Now that you’re mine you’ll never go without.”

You sighed and then you felt his warm shaft against your pussylips. He still had your hand in his as he looked down at you and lined up his tip with your opening, pushing in only his bulbous head.

You hissed at the tightness of it, arching your back into him.

“It’s okay. I’m gonna go in slow so it doesn’t hurt. Tiny little hole needs worked open, yeah?”

You nodded with a whimper, “It’s so… you’re so big… oh god…”

“We’ll get you used to it. Don’t worry sweet, flower. Gonna take good care of you…”

His fat cock slowly took up inch by inch of your insides. You’d never felt such a full feeling from a cock before. Harry’s dick was thick and the further he pressed inward you could tell he was also long.

He slowly backed himself out to the tip and kissed your mouth with a quick peck before smiling down at you as he drove back in, pushing deeper yet. The kind of stretch he was giving you felt impossible. Even your huge dildo (which you hid from Marco so as not to hurt his fragile feelings of seeing a toy that was bigger than he was) didn’t feel this big, didn’t give you this kind of fullness.

There was the sound of a soft squelch of your pussy getting stuffed as he bottomed out. He nuzzled his face into your neck and panted softly as he thrust deeply. You could feel your insides getting moved around, rearranged, and prodded into.

It did something to your brain to know your pussy was making a man with such a big cock feel like you were. You could feel his cock twitching as he rocked into you. The front of his thighs pressed into the back of yours as he fucked you with his large dick.

“You feel that, flower?” His hot breath cascaded over your neck as he spoke.

“Mmm… I feel it all, Harry…” you moaned in response as you flexed your hand inside of his and brought your other hand up to his broad back to hold onto his outer lat.

“I can tell you feel it too. Feel me way up in your tummy, spreading you open like you’ve never been. Feels like I’m fucking a virgin right now,” he trembled as kept up his languid pace.

And compared to anyone else you’d slept with, yeah… you could say you were like a virgin. You’d never had anything so large inside of your pussy and you knew you couldn’t go back to anything less.

“Gonna get you fucked and filled so nicely every day. My little flower… fuck… feels so tight and wet around me. So warm. Just begging for my come.”

You moaned out breathily. Every stroke of his shaft and dip of his crown into your guts had you reeling. It was so much and so good. You were already addicted to the way he was fucking you and talking you through it.

“I need your come, Harry. I need you in my womb so bad…” you panted your words but you weren’t sure if those words had come from you or not. Maybe you were just cock drunk or cock dumb or whatever it was you’d heard of that happened to some people when they were getting a good dicking but it was something you’d never experienced and you wanted him to claim every part of you. You’d never before asked for anyone’s come. You’d never fucked without a condom. But Harry was the exception to everything.

His slow, deep plunges were driving you insane. Every sticky wet slide of his cock through your walls, every time you felt his balls fit up against your ass, every grind of his hips against yours… it made you feel obsessed. Like an unstable lunatic, hungry for something that no one else would ever understand.

“Need me deep in your womb, flower?” Harry pasted his hips to yours and rocked against you, making you squeal at the press of his tip into your cervix, “Is that what you want? Want me to stuff you with my come and give you babies, make you mine forever? Yeah?”

“Yes! Please!” You gasped when he bit into your neck as the roll of his back and his hips into you suddenly faltered and his rhythm grew sloppy.

Harry trembled over you as he pressed his nose into your jaw, his moans growing louder and his cock was twitching, leaking precome as his balls squeezed into his body preparing for his orgasm.

But the way he was glued to your pelvis and every grind down into you sent glorious sparkles down your spine that spread over your pussy as he was smushed against your clit.

The moment you felt your orgasm start to unfold and burst your vision went black as your heart pounded and your pussy gushed around him.

When Harry felt you squeezing him tight with a spasming pussy and he knew you were coming he coughed out a moan as he allowed himself to pound into you, finally punching through your walls the way he wanted as he fucked you through your release. Long, slick, aching strokes with skin wetly slapping, your bed rocking with each strong thrust, until Harry’s gasps of pleasure finally poured out of his lungs as he came inside of you. Inside of his sweet flower.

He pumped and throbbed as he pressed in deep, stilling his hips against yours with his heart pounding wildly. It was heaven. Bliss. He knew it would be.

Your body was limp under his as you began to come down and you felt him thick and pulsating inside of you as he drained himself into your womb just like you wanted. The grip he had on your hand ached but you loved it as he used your pussy for his pleasure. Deep whimpers fell from his chest.

Everything swirled and sparkled and twisted around you in some divine kaleidoscope. His dark words spoken into your ear, “You’re mine now, flower,” had you smiling and humming in delight. It was all you wanted. He was all you needed.

. . .

You woke up to your phone alarm sounding next to you on the bed. The tiniest bit of light was peeking through your curtains as you sat up and found your phone to shut off the noise. You were in a daze as you looked around yourself and realized you were alone in your bed.

You pulled your brows together and looked around your room. Your clothes were on the floor and memories of the night before began to flood your mind. Harry. Where was Harry?

Throwing the blankets off your naked body you looked down over yourself and felt that warm flush of excitement crawl over your skin at the thought of what had happened. You slid on your t-shirt and walked into your hallway, “Harry?” You called his name but there was no response.

Your living room was left just as it had been the night before. Your front door was unlocked and the carton of half-eaten ice cream was sitting on your coffee table, all melted inside.

You shook your head as you peeked into your kitchen and then went into your bathroom, flicking on the light and there lying on your vanity was a flower. You picked it up as you looked at yourself in the mirror. Two big dark splotches on your neck told you that you weren’t going crazy. That something had happened last night.

Unless you’d done it to yourself somehow? You leaned in to look closer in the mirror as you ran your fingers over the skin on your throat and frowned. Maybe it had just all been a dream. It definitely felt like one.

You sighed as you stepped back and retraced the events of what you remember. But it was hard to recall the details exactly. You were so gone for Harry, your co-worker, and he’d been so aggressive yet so soft at the same time.

Perhaps it had just been a dream. A wild dream that had you coming twice and begging for him to come inside of you.

You laughed as you ran your hands over your face and shook your head. Maybe you were going crazy. It didn’t explain the flower or the splotches on your neck but somehow, in the light of day, it all felt like nothing more than a fantasy. It made more sense that it would have just been a dream. What were the chances your hot co-worker had come to your house in the middle of the night and fucked you so good you were ready to marry him and give him babies? No, that wasn’t real. Because that wasn’t you.

You looked back at yourself in the mirror with a grin. The only thing you knew for certain at that moment was that you’d never think about Harry the same way again.

If you're interested in seeing more of Little Flower Harry please consider joining my Patreon! xoxo

Feedback/Thoughts | Ko-fi | Main Masterlist | Patreon

Thank you for reading! I appreciate any support so remember to comment, reblog, & like 💕

Tags: @yousunshineyoutempter @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swiftmendeshoran   @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince

@closureesny @angelbabyyy99 @damnasstyles @malwtilda @love-letters-to-uranus

@itjustkindahappenedreally @ssaama @onlyangellucifer @harryistheonlyoneforme @butdaddyilovehim-hs

@lc-fics @mema10 @hannahdressedasabanana @babegoalsreads @harrrrystylesslut

@elidoho @gotdrxnkonu @freedomfireflies @cathy-1997 @imgonnadreamaboutthewayyoutaaaa

@certainlysyko @tiredinwinter @princessaxoxo @angeldavis777 @kissfromadove

@lillefroe @monicaalexandraaa @hsonlyangelxo @brittanyzelazno @lemoncrushh

@golfrry @caynonmoondreams @danaehldy @babyyhoneyyy @mellamolayla

@ladscarlett @babyurthendofjune @heartateasee @littlenatilda

[yuwuta]

JUST KEEP LOVING ME THE WAY I LOVE YOU LOVING ME — SATORU GOJO

pairings. satoru gojo/reader

content, warnings. non-curse au, doctor au (reader), ceo au (satoru), no real content warnings, fluff, satoru is nothing but a romantic at heart

word count. 3k

notes. this exists in the post-completion au of a larger universe/incomplete fic of mine, that i will hopefully finish someday lololol but this is way easier to write than that so here you go 🥳

“There are four chairs worth a collective seventy-five hundred dollars in this office, so, pray, tell, why is your ass on my desk?” 

Satoru grins at your words, too distracted by taking in the sight of you to take into consideration the underlying threat. It’s been far too long, almost three whole days since he’s last seen you and, god, you look good. He knows if he said that you’d roll your eyes and insist that there’s nothing good-looking about your worn-in business attire and lab coat that was in desperate need of laundering, but it wouldn’t change his opinion: you always look good, and Satoru really fucking missed you. 

Which is why he doesn’t say the words, but makes sure to throw a deceivingly charming wink your way so that you get the message anyway. As expected, you still roll your eyes, but he doesn’t mind; you look good doing that, too.

“Seriously, Satoru, what are you doing here?” you question, closing the door behind you when you fully step into the room. You make pace towards your desk, attempting to get to the other side, but this is exactly why Satoru chose to lean against it instead of sitting on any one of your very expensive and comfortable chairs—because this way, he’s in the perfect position to intercept your path and pull you to fit neatly between his legs before you can even think about reaching your office chair and ignoring him. 

He pulls you by the loop of your lab coat, but his hands quickly find their way to your shoulders, unpeeling the white layer just enough so that your blouse is exposed to him, and he can slowly rub his palms against your arms and shoulders with just enough pressure to hopefully release some tension. You won’t let go of all of it, but that’s alright, because Satoru’s got other methods for taking care of you.

“Hi,” he calls, smiling gently down at you, “I missed you.” 

This close, Satoru can see the exhaustion clearly in your eyes. There’s more, too: frustration, guilt, worry—and it takes everything in him not to coo and pull you into his chest and do his best to shield you from the world forever. 

There’s a beat before you speak, a small sigh, that’s quickly painted over with a tired smile and a remorseful, “I missed you, too. I’m sorry for being so short, the interim chief has been getting on my last nerves, and—”

“You don’t have to apologize,” Satoru cuts in, leaning forward to press a reassuring kiss to your forehead. He likes that he can feel you relax under his touch. “I know you’re busy. I just missed you.” 

It’s not easy to share you with anything or anyone, but Satoru knows that even on the hardest days, you love your job, and that so many people need your brilliant mind. What he does mind is when people make your job harder than it needs to be, and he’s been getting an earful about this new interim chief from just about everybody—you, Kento, Yuuji, Ieiri, even some of your favorite scrub nurses have indulged him in the gossip about the newest common enemy—and he doesn’t appreciate that someone is putting extra stress on his baby. So, even if it is a makeshift massage in your office and distracting you from your paperwork, Satoru will do what he can to help you relieve tension. 

You reach your arms to wrap them around his shoulders, taking a half step closer to him, peering up at him. Satoru loves when your arms are around his neck like this; he can’t quite pinpoint why—maybe it’s the way you have to crane your neck to look up at him, the way you’re perfectly nestled under his view, the feeling of being wrapped in you. He does his best to close the loop of your intimacy, resting his hands on the small of your back and pulling you impossibly closer and pressing a kiss to your forehead. He likes that he can feel you relax into his touch.

“You’re sweet,” you smile, rubbing your thumb against the shorter hairs at the back of his head. Satoru feels himself melt into you, too. It’s been too long since you’ve been this close, three whole days too long. “Thank you.”

“Nothing to thank me for, baby,” he smiles, stealing a gentle kiss. Satoru loves this the most, loves the feeling of your lips on his—and it’s definitely been too long since he’s kissed you, so he makes sure to do it again, and once more after that for good measure. 

But it’s not enough. He’ll have to take you home, sit you on the couch so he can kiss you all night and make up for the lack of kisses and touches and youness he’s been deprived of these past few days. But first, he’ll have to pull you away from your work, and that’s not easy work. 

“Come home,” he muses, leaning his forehead against yours, “We can order in, and share your favorite bottle of wine, and watch a movie.” 

You lean up to kiss him briefly. “Every time we share a bottle of wine, we end up making out and not watching anything.” 

“Do we?” Satoru feigns innocence, “I never noticed. Doesn’t sound like a bad idea, though.”

“Satoru,” you whisper, quiet but firm, with a smile that lets him know you want to, but you can’t. It’s a tone that Satoru knows all too well, and isn’t particularly fond of. “I have charts to finish.” 

“Finish them tomorrow,” he steals another kiss, “Or pawn them off on Kento,” another kiss, “Or Yuuji. Residents always need more experience—isn’t that what you and Ieiri always say?” 

You let him kiss you again, and again, and again. Each time a little longer, a little warmer, a little less innocent than the last, growing from a little, to a lot, to all-consuming. Satoru hums when he feels your nails raking through his hair; an unfortunate move, as the sound pulls you back to reality and away from him in a decrescendo of kisses. 

“You’re really good at that,” you laugh, voice soft. 

“At kissing?” Satoru dips his head down to taste your laughter against his lips, “Thanks, I’ve had a lot of practice with a very pretty girl.” 

“No,” and you’re laughing again, louder this time, and Satoru counts every little giggle as a victory, “You’re good at... seducing me without saying you’re seducing me.”

“Oh, that?” he grins, tucking his pointer and index finger under your chin to meet you in a knowing kiss, “Yeah, that’s a talent of mine, too.”

You let him steal one more, and Satoru doesn’t take it for granted. “Come home,” he whispers against your lips before slotting them in yet another kiss, “I miss you.” 

And he can feel it when you finally break, sighing into the kiss, and melting into his touch completely. One more, he just needs one more kiss to seal the deal, and then—“Fine,” you concede, “But I get to choose where to get dinner from.” 

“Of course, sweets, whatever you want,” Satoru grins, pulling back to kiss your forehead again, “Now—shall we? If we order in the car, we can probably pick it up on our way home.”

He’s in the home stretch now, but he’s not completely free: if you catch a glimpse of your work, or someone comes in to find you, or your godforsaken pager beeps then all of his plans could come crumbling down before him. The key to transitioning from the “you’ve agreed to come home with him early stage”—if you can count 9:45pm, coming off of a 17-hour work day as early—to the “we are actually leaving this hospital and nobody can stop us phase” is swiftness. This time period is critical, and Satoru is ready for the sprint. 

He shimmies your lab coat all the way off of your body for you, checking for the weight of your pager in your right pocket, before hanging it on the back of your chair. He shoos you to grab your coat, and makes sure you don’t get within three feet of this side of your desk—taking your purse out of your locked drawer and closing an open file folder in the time it takes you to slip out of your heels and into your sneakers, and by the time you’re turning back around, Satoru is already there next to you, with your purse in one hand, and his other hovering on the light switch. 

He makes sure you’re out the door first, and flickers off the light with a satisfied grin. His baby was coming home early with him, and there is nothing else he’d rather do than spend time pampering you. 

You must truly be more tired than you know, because you make no protest when he slings an arm over your shoulder on your way out of the elevator. Usually, you chastise him for any PDA within hospital walls, but tonight you let it be, even leaning some of your body weight against his as you walk. Satoru’s not complaining at all, maybe he’ll try his luck and sneak a kiss on your cheek. 

He decides to go for it, leaning over for a kiss, when you suddenly pull away, turning and patting against your side. Confused, and disappointed, Satoru pouts, “We’ve really got to work on this fear of affection you’ve got going on, sweets. It’s the leading cause of makesatorupout-itis.” 

“We’ve been over this—you can’t just add “itis” to the end of your words to make them diagnostic,” you giggle, “I was looking for my keys.”

Satoru’s frown deepens. “You have the fancy reserved doctor parking space, they can’t tow you. So, we can take my car home.” 

“No, we cannot, because I do not trust you to wake up and drive me back tomorrow morning.” 

“Then I’ll get you a cab in the morning, or—even better, I’ll call Ichiji to pick you up.” 

“Ichiji is still in Paris,” you remind him. Satoru purses his lips. He did ask Ichiji to stay with Megumi. Damn it.

“I have other cars, you can drive one of them in the morning.” 

“And park it where?” 

“In your fancy reserved doctor parking—oh, okay I see the flaw there,” Satoru pulls back. You find amusement in his disappointment, but he doesn’t think there’s anything funny here. 

He shakes his head. He should have taken a cab from his office, but this is okay, a minor setback, nothing he can’t think around. “New plan: we take your car, and I’ll come by to get mine tomorrow. Easy peasy.” 

“Yours will be towed by then.” 

“That’s fine,” Satoru shrugs, “I can afford a tow fee.” 

“Satoru,” you call, reaching your free hand up to place your palm against his cheek, “We both drive home. It’ll be thirty minutes, tops. Forty if there’s traffic, but if you stop pouting and we leave now, we should be fine.” 

Satoru sighs. He knows that’s the most reasonable plan of action, but the simple truth is that he doesn’t want to be away from you right now, even to go the short distance home. He’s already spent the last few days without you, and even though this is calling it in early for you, he only gets maybe four hours awake with you before you’re off again. Thinking about that makes him miss you again already. Pathetic, maybe, but he doesn’t care.

“Oh, Dr. (_____), hey!” Yuuji’s voice is an easily distinguishable interruption to your petty argument, and Satoru’s sulking, “Perfect timing—I’m glad I caught you before you left. Is it okay if I ask you to sign something before you go?” 

You easily warm up to the younger boy and agree, fondly making conversation with Yuuji as he scrolls through some documents on his tablet. And just as you’ve finished scribbling your signature along the screen, Satoru has a bright idea. 

“Hey, Yuuji, you can drive right?” Satoru questions rhetorically, already reaching for his wallet and car keys, “Great! Here’s two grand, it’s all yours if you drive this car home tonight.” Satoru smiles widely, shoving his keys and some cash into the pocket of Yuuji’s white coat. 

“What—really? Awesome! But, why—” 

Satoru dismisses his disbelief with a wave of his hand. He steps a bit closer to Yuuji, just enough to lean into his ear and tuck a couple more bills into his pocket, “And between you and me, that’s an extra three grand if you finish up a couple of charts for my lady so she can sleep in tomorrow. Not a bad deal, right?” 

“Sure, no problem!” Yuuji salutes, “I’d do anything for Dr. Almost-Gojo. Plus, if I’m busy working for her, then I don’t have to babysit cells in a dish for Dr. Gakuganji.” 

“Atta boy,” Satoru ruffles his hair, “Catch you later, Yuuji, I’ve got a hot date to get to. And tell Nanamin I say hello!” 

You elbow Satoru shallowly, a silent warning to keep his voice down, and a verbal chastising of, “It’s Dr. Itadori and Dr. Nanamin to you.”

“More like Dr. Nanameanie,” Satoru laments, resuming the position of his arm around your shoulder, “I’ve left him six calls this week! He’s so cruel—he knows I have to leave next week and he’s depriving me of one on one time. I think I’m gonna have to sneak into his office at lunch tomorrow and confront him.”

Despite his crass words and dramatics, you laugh, and so, Satoru smiles. He finally gets that cheek kiss right as you two reach your car, bending down to plant one for you at the same time he steals your keys from your hand and banishes you to the passenger seat. He’s not much of a driver himself, despite his excess amount of cars, but you’re his baby and you deserve to be driven around no matter the case, but especially when you’ve spent all day taking care of other people. 

Plus, on days like this, if he’s real careful and smooth, you fall asleep in the car and he gets to carry you inside. He makes that his goal for the next thirty minutes, and he succeeds in twenty, confirmed by your soft snores just as he pulls into the curbside pick-up spot of your favorite restaurant. He retrieves the take-out as quietly as possible, before making the rest of the journey home, taking the time to glance over at you during red lights. 

Satoru loves the way you look when you’re asleep, loves to see you well-rested, but something even more dear to him than that is a fact that Nanami let slip in the aftermath of a dinner party he’d hosted about a year after you two had started dating: “She never sleeps outside of her bed, for as long as I’ve known her,” he muses, nodding to your sleeping figure on Satoru’s couch, “Not even in the on-call rooms during our 72 hour shifts. She must... she must really trust you, Satoru.” 

(He also recalls the awfully strong grip on his shoulder and subsequent shovel talk Kento gave him a moment later. Not that Satoru ever had anything but pure intentions with you, but the threat of breaking Kento’s best friend’s heart was more than enough to keep his commitments in check).

Satoru peers at you fondly in his arms, held bridal style with the takeout in the grip of a pinky finger, glancing up only to nod and thank his doorman for pushing the penthouse button for him. Satoru prides himself on many things, but the one thing he always holds in his highest regards is you: call him cocky, but he thinks he’s quite good at caring for you, that there’s nobody else fit to look after you the way that he can; and knowing that you feel safe in his arms is the highest honor he could achieve in this life.

He sets you carefully on the couch once he steps inside the apartment, and places the food on the coffee table. He debates whether or not he should wake you up now; he hates to, but he knows you need to eat, and, selfishly, he wants to cash in on those few hours he has with you to hear your voice. 

He’ll dish out the food first, and then wake you up to eat, he decides. He leans down to kiss the crown of your head, eyes flicking to your face, and pausing at your neck, where your engagement ring rests crookedly against your skin. You must have had an emergency surgery today, he thinks; your schedule for today was originally just to round on post-op patients and attend some meetings, but you knot the ring into your chain when you have to scrub into the operating room. 

Carefully, Satoru reaches to undo it from the chain, and slips it back onto your ring finger. It looks pretty against your skin when it’s around your neck, but personally, he thinks it looks best this way, the sparkle of the aquamarine against the halo of diamonds fits perfectly across the width of your finger, just the way he had it made to be.

Satoru bends down even further to kiss the back of your hand, before laying it to rest on your stomach. He might need to bribe Yuuji to take care of some more work for you, you two really should get a move on that wedding planning, and you’re going to need at least a week off to fly and visit his grandma’s pastry shop in Osaka for cake tasting.

He smiles at the thought. He doesn’t feel so bad about waking you up now—wedding talk seems like the perfect way to end the evening if you ask him; there would be no sweeter sound than hearing how you imagine the start of the rest of your lives to be.