#i need a vacation urgently

[aweirdbugcreature]

Hi, i've been struggling on this assignment for 6 hours. Yes, i understand what to do. Yes, it can be done in 10 minutes. No, i haven't done it. Can you tell me 5 things you like about me, so i won't hang myself?

[brafta]

december is coming and my desire to write domestic scenes with a christmas vibe is increasing

[ahmadwaleed55]

Help us escape this dangerous life that knows no mercy.

My sister and I deserve a chance to live in peace and claim our rights.

We demand an education just like any child in the world, free from the risks and challenges we face daily.

We want to live and dream of a better future, away from fear and threats.

Our rights to education and a brighter future must be a priority

We need your support to make this dream a reality

Vetted!!!

(##167 on the verified fundraiser list by el-shab-hussein and nabulsi) (but we had to make a new gfm campaign cuz our old organizer stopped contacting us).

##dllxv-vetted-donations

[notanactressyayy]

i really really REALLY wish i had more time to write — so many stories to finish and so little time to put the thoughts in words

[grimandghoulish]

.

[bxtonpxss]

[maxivstappen]

congrats on 1k again mel 🤍 i'm so proud of u!!

i'm requesting for ur event: the lyrics "you make me wanna fall in love" from "juno" by sabrina, and the driver is oscar piastri

౨ৎ MAKE YOU FALL IN LOVE ‧˚. OP81

౨ৎ PART OF MY 1K EVENT & my short n' sweet series (not posted yet) ౨ৎ

summary — you said it was casual, but you both knew it wasn’t. he liked to tell people that he’s certainly not in love with you, so maybe you just had to make him fall in love.

a/n — thank you so much for your constant support ml🥹 im not too happy with how this turned out, but i hope you enjoy reading anyway <3 based on the song ‚juno’ by sab!

warnings — kinda smutty?? jealous!oscar, making out, very suggestive, hints of angst, english isn’t my first language, not proofread

It really wasn’t your fault.

You decided to keep it casual as to not get him into any drama, so that people know his focus was keen on racing - becoming a world champion and whatnot - and also for your sake, because the hate, if you weren’t used to it, really could become unbearable, and the last thing Oscar wanted was for you to have to deal with any of that, you were just way too precious to him for that. So the decision was made. No strings attached.

Stupid, right? No strings attached is something to settle on before being all the way into it. Because at that point of your relationship, there was no way to keep it casual anymore. The only way was to take a few things that had been said two or three times too often back. To leave it all behind and really only do those things for ‚urgent needs‘ . No more spending the night or cooking together or meeting up without the friend group or sneaking away from said friend group just so he could finally rip the dress you had been teasing him with all night right off of you. But he had other plans, he seemed to just keep going with it. Telling you how much he missed you every time he was back from the long weekends, repeating the same three words over and over again as he makes his way down your thighs, kissing every clothed and unclothed spot he could reach from under you.

The first time it happened it was simply an accident, at least that’s what you told everyone. At least that’s what you told yourselves. But your touch and perfume still lingered even after a week, so the next time you saw each other at a birthday party of one of your mutual friends, Oscar couldn’t keep his hands off you either. Confessions of being attracted were spoken out loud and the only thing keeping you from taking it farther was nothing more than a mental holdback. You were scared of the public. He was scared to see you hurt because of that.

After a weekend during summer break spent together you asked him to finally decide on where to go on from this. He blurted out that he’s not in love, so there was no reason for things to get complicated. Your breath hitched. Casual hookups was what he said. Friends with benefits, you chuckled, seemingly angreeing with him as to not make this situation any weirder, even if it hurt just a tiny bit. But he was right. You had a different idea of a perfect life than he had. Racing was his passion, being in the spotlight was part of the sport, and you couldn’t even handle having to hold presentations in class because you hated being the center of attention. You two were just too different.

So yes. It is his fault! Because if he’s really, after all these lovey-dovey moment shared, still not in love — like you admittedly were — then he should stop acting like he did. Why would he get you flowers every few weeks? Why would he gift you a whole vacation with your best friend including hotel, trips and things a sane person wouldn’t even ask for for your birthday, and the rest of your friends would only get a normal birthday card and occasionally whatever small thing they had wished for? If you were really just casual, then why did he treat you as if none of this was ever just casual at all? Why did he treat you like his girlfriend if he so confidently stated that he’s not in love with you just months ago?

He couldn’t expect you not to want him to fall for you too if he was the one who made you fall for him in the first place. As if the “casual” sex wasn’t enough already, he just had to do the most romantic shit for you as to not let you get over him at all. He wanted to play with your head, he made it obvious. Too many mixed signs, too many actions done but too little words said. Lucky for you and for him, two can play the game.

If he was sooo sure he’s not in love with you, which he just had to be, maybe you just had to make him realize his loss if he ever lost you. You had to make sure he knew that you were desired also by men who weren’t him, and since it‘s his fault you fell for him in the first place, he should be the one who has to face he consequences of not loving you back.

In other words, a little jealousy clearly wouldn’t hurt him.

You were getting ready in the bathroom of your apartment together with your best friend, “juno“ by Sabrina Carpenter playing in the background while you gossiped about whatever came to mind — including Oscar and you. It was a secret to everybody else, but not to her. She was the one you cried to after Oscar told you he didn’t have feelings for you.

You finished up your makeup with some lipgloss, and once you were final,y content with your accessories and outfits, you made your way over to your friend’s, jack’s, birthday. Everybody was there, including Oscar. And Lando. His only ally and his biggest rival. If that didn’t make him crack, then nothing would, but you decided to try, at least. Lando and you got along alright already when you had only just met, and he was the first man to point out that Oscar and you aren’t just friends, right?

So when you suddenly put your hand on his arm, slowly rubbing up and down his biceps, he was confused at first, and then caught up on your quick nod in Oscar‘s direction while holding eye contact with him. Lando didn’t mean to do him any harm, but as much as he loved his teammate, he would never be one to turn down an opportunity to mess with him like this, especially not if he knew it would, at last, make Oscar snap so he didn‘t have to listen to his hopeless whining about his relationship with you being oh so complicated. Just ball up and confess, man.

It was innocent at first. Just simple touches, your hand on his chest for just a tiny second because you needed something to steady yourself on as your reached behind him to grab your drink from the small table the couch stood in front of, or his arm around your waist when you all stood next to each other to take a round of shots. Lando was certainly amused and your best friend was winking and giggling at you the whole night, seemingly loving your plan, because Oscar was definitely reacting.

His blood was boiling and he wanted to punch that smug look right off of Lando‘s face. How dare he touch you when he knew that Oscar, his own teammate, loved you?

Oscar thought it was better like this. Playing pretend instead of facing the truth, and he was pretty damn good at doing so. He was sure you believed him when he said that he doesn‘t want your relationship to include anything other than moments of lust, he thought it was easier that way. He thought it would make things less complicated, thought he could live his life without having to put you in any danger, live his life without needing you by his side every second of his damned life if he just put some boundaries. Surprise! It only made things worse, plus apparently, guys seemed to think you were available now, thought they could have you like only he can. And it made him fucking furious.

So when you stood up to pour yourself another drink in the kitchen, he followed, of course not before shooting the other driver for McLaren a death glare. Lando sighed and leanded back in his seat, happy to see your man finally making a real move. He hoped so, at least. Oscar closed the door after entering. It was only you two now.

“Fancy another beer?“ You asked calmly, but the feeling in your stomach was far from calm. This could end in complete rejection, maybe he could see right through your façade and thought you were childish for doing this? But how could you not?! Oscar himself made you do it with his mix of signs every damn time you saw each other!

He shook his head.

The tension between you was palpable as he watched your every move, back turned to him. You felt awkward, but tried to ignore it. The light was dim, and you could still feel the bass vibrating through the floor and the walls coming from the speakers in the living room. Was music this loud even allowed at this hour?

You finished pouring yourself some more champagne when you saw him walking over to you in the reflection of the glass cupboard in front of you. You sucked in a breath, not daring to say anything, feeling slightly hazy from the alcohol you‘ve drunken in the past few hours already. His cologne became starker as he stepped closer to you, eyes closed as you let the familiar smell of him take over you completely. You only opened them again once you realized he caged you between himself and the counter, pressing himself against your behind. He started softly kissing down your neck behind your ear, almost tickling you with how light his lips felt against your hot skin. You wanted this, you wanted him. But his touch wasn’t nearly enough, you wanted all of him, and not just his body. Every yet so little interaction you had during the evening left you with butterflies going crazy in your tummy, yet he never seemed affected, not until Lando came into view. Did he really only want your body and not more?

“What were you doing with him, y/n?”

Nothing but a moan left your mouth as he gently bit into your skin, sucking on your sweet spot as you subconsciously rubbed up against him. You didn’t even want to reply, you just wanted him to keep caressing your skin with his mouth. “Tell me what you were doing with Lando, huh, baby? What were you thinking?”

“Oscar I-“

“Keep talking or I’ll stop,” he whispered as he made his way down your back and then back up your shoulder, kissing and mouthing at every spot. Thankfully your best friend had convinced you to wear the backless top, you thought.

You huffed. This felt so humiliating, but you couldn’t keep going like this, not when he makes you feel like this and then leaves like nothing ever happened. You lived a lie and it was time to stop.

“I was trying to make you jealous so that you would finally stop and do something!”

Oscar’s furrowed his eyebrows and stopped in his tracks, hands still on you. What were you talking about The tension came crashing down onto your body once again, his doing not distracting you anymore. You seemed to want to have this conversation, and Oscar could easily put some of his lust away in moments like these. You didn’t get a reply, the cue for you to turn around and face him. You were still caged between him and the counter, his hands steady on either side of you now as he leaned down to look at you. you couldn’t focus like this, not with him so close to you and with the alcohol running through your body like blood. You looked up at him with doe eyes, prettily batting your lashes even if your mascara was slightly smudged already.

“Stop what? Talk to me, please. I didn’t like seeing you with him,” he looked concerned. Worried even, worried about what he might have done wrong. He wanted to be with you, keep you as his, so why would you want to stop being exactly that?

“Why don‘t you love me?“ You whispered, tears forming in your eyes. You hated it, but it was inevitable. The confrontation was overwhelming you anyway, and being under the influence managed to make it a lot worse. Your hands were all shaky and so was your every breath as you anticipated his reaction, expecting rejection but still hoping for more.

“I- What? Why would you think that?“

“Maybe because you literally said so?“

“Uhm, okay fair point. Listen y/n,“ he sighed, and you could practically hear your heartbeat throbbing inside your chest. He thought for a second, but didn‘t say a thing. Instead, he grabbed your face and kissed you like never before, he kissed you with more than just passion, he kissed you with love. his fingers wiped away a tear that had rolled down your face, kissing and holding you as gently as he could. “Don‘t cry on me, y/n, please don‘t,“ he begged as he now kissed down your cleavage, leaving lovebites on your collarbones. “Was just being stupid, didn‘t wanna hurt you baby, thought long distance is too hard,“ he said something, anything to make you understand that the only reason he didn’t confess was because he was scared of his life not being compatible with yours, and not because he didn’t love you.

You smiled into the kiss once he reached your lips again. You‘d have to talk about it more tomorrow morning after taking some aspirin, you knew, after all, that you‘d go back home with him. It wasn‘t enough to make it official, you weren‘t boyfriend and girlfriend, but you finally had the guarantee that he felt the same way, that he loved you just like you did him.

Oscar swore himself at that exact moment, when he felt you smiling while his lips were dancing against yours, that he would never make you feel so unloved again. It wasn’t his intention in the first place, but seeing your beautiful eyes filled with tears because of him made his heart shatter, and he never wants to see you like that again, not if he was the reason for your pain. And even though you did have to make him realize through making him jealous, you certainly didn’t have to make him fall in love with you.

Because he already was.

౨ৎ general taglist / sns taglist ::

@norrisdriver / @1655clean

[zombvic]

hi, i love your writing can you do one where marc guiu is secretly dating lewandoski's daughter and he finds out?

MR LEWANDOWSKI (marc guiu x lewandowski!reader)

summary : in which the polish barcelona player finds out his daughter is dating his teammate

face claim : no-one exact

notes : ty for the request !! im gonna do some requests asap (theres like twenty so plsplspls be patient <3) also im gonna go on vacation soon so ill be less active.

pairings : marc guiu x fem!lewandowski!reader

BEING THE DAUGHTER of the Polish striker, Robert Lewandowski, came with its perks. Some of the benefits was the opportunity to meet your favorite players, attend exclusive events, and see important matches, such as the World Cup and UCL Finals. But managing the constant media attention and living up to the Lewandowski name were only two of the challenges that came with it. The hardest challenge of them all was keeping your relationship with the Barcelona striker, Marc Guiu, a secret.

You knew dating Marc was going to make you slightly insane. The constant hiding and sneaking around was annoying, tbh.. But if you managed to keep this a secret for over seven months, you sure weren't going to fuck it up now.

Hector quickly caught onto your little facade. All three of you were classmates, and it was clear by the looks you exchanged across the classroom, the way Marc spoke to Hector about you, and just the overall way he admired you. Hector was certain you were dating.

Him knowing would actually come in handy. It was a little easier to keep the secret when Hector was on your side. When needed, he helped cover for you by coming up with excuses in case your dad was on the edge of figuring things out.

One afternoon, while your father was out, Marc came over to your house. It was a unique chance for the two of you to have the house to yourselves, and you both wanted to make the most of it.

You were in your room, cuddling on your bed with Marc as a movie was playing on your laptop. It was relaxing, finally a moment of comfort without any worries or the anxiety of getting caught.

"This is nice," Marc murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "I wish we could do this more often."

"Me too," you replied, pulling in closer to him. "But you're aware of my dad's history with my ex-boyfriends. If he found out, he would freak out."

Marc sighed as he played with the strings on your hoodie. "I know. Yet, sometimes I picture us going out on a typical date night. No concerns about your father catching us. You know maybe if he got used to our relationship, he could come along."

Playfully poking Marc with your shoulder, you mocked, "Are you using me to date my father?"

Marc gave you a gentle giggle and an amused look as his eyes met yours. "Maybe I am," he answered. "But in all honesty, I just want to go out with you—no sneaking around, just a regular 'I'll have her home by nine, sir' type date."

"Wow, real cute, Marc." Just as you were about to lean in for a kiss, you heard the front door open. Your heart stopped, as you and Marc exchanged panicked and confused looks.

"Oh fuck. He's not supposed to be back yet," you whispered urgently, scrambling off the bed. "You have to hide. Like now."

Marc quickly got up, looking around the room for a hiding spot. "WHAT?! Where should I go?!"

"Jesus Christ, Marc. I don't know just.. just get under the bed or something!" you whispered, trying to keep your voice down.

Just as your father yelled something from the living room, Marc dove under the bed. "Y/n? You home?"

You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself before opening your bedroom door. "Yeah, What's up?"

He walked down the hallway, a frown on his face. "I thought I left my other keys here. Have you seen them?"

You shook your head, trying to look casual. "Nah, I haven't seen them. Maybe you left them in the locker room after training?"

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Maybe. I'll call someone to check if someone found them. Are you okay? You seem... off."

"I'm good, Dad," you said quickly, hoping he couldn't hear the nervousness in your voice. "Just tired, I guess.."

He looked at you for a moment longer before nodding. "Alright. Well, I'm going to head back out then. Let me know if you find the keys."

As he turned to leave, you heard a muffled cough from under the bed. Your eyes widened in horror as your father stopped in his tracks, his brow furrowing.

"What was that?" he asked, turning back to you.

"What do you mean" you said quickly, desperately trying to think of an excuse. "I didn't hear anything. Is your hearing alright?"

"Hey, I'm still only 35 years young. Anyways, I'll just head out, I guess. See you later, honey." He said as he walked out the front door.

As you walked down the hallway to reach your room, you exclaimed, "Marc, what the fuck was that? The one time you NEED to be quiet, you actually cough. How on earth is that possible?"

"Hey, I didn't put all that dust under your bed," he playfully said while hugging you. "Calm down, babe. He didn't even see me."

"Yeah, but he heard your silly ass. Anyways you should just go. He might come back soon."

At least three hours had passed before your dad returned, which was kind of annoying because you had the chance to finish the movie and still had two hours left to hang out without interruptions.

"Hey honey, I'm back home," your dad said as he walked into the house. You were sitting on the couch, watching Suits (a goated show btw).

Your dad's voice startled you, making you jump slightly. You quickly paused the show and turned to face him. "Hey Dad," you replied.

He looked around the living room with a curious expression. His eyes fell upon the hoodie that Marc gave to you. The hoodie that exclusively Barcelona players got. His brow furrowed slightly as he picked it up, examining it with a puzzled look.

"Whose hoodie is this?" he asked.

You swallowed nervously, trying to come up with a plausible explanation. "Oh, uh, that's Marc's," you said, mentally cursing yourself for not changing beforehand. "He gave it to me last week."

Robert's gaze shifted from the hoodie to you, his expression unreadable. "Marc's?"

"Yeah," you nodded, trying to keep your voice steady. "We… we've been hanging out a lot. Last week i was cold so he gave it to me."

He studied you for a moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to gauge your sincerity. "Hanging out," he echoed, more a statement than a question.

You nodded again, feeling the weight of his scrutiny. "Okay, yeah. So, Dad, we've been dating for.. a while now."

His eyes widened in surprise, shocked expression on his face. But he didn't look angry. Instead, he let out a slow breath and nodded.

As he stared at you for what felt like an eternity, processing the information, he finally spoke out, his voice calm yet tinged with disbelief, "You and Marc... have been dating?"

"I… I didn't know how you'd react," you admitted, feeling a pinch of guilt for keeping it from him. "And I didn't want you to worry."

Robert leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. "I see," he said. "And how long has this 'while' been?"

Marc cleared his throat, speaking up, "About seven months, Mr. Lewandowski."

Your dad looked at Marc with a mix of surprise and curiosity. "Marc? What are you doing here?" he asked, seeing him in the living room unexpectedly.

"I'm sorry, sir. Y/n messaged me to come over, so I did," Marc spoke out, trying to explain his sudden arrival.

"Sorry for not telling you sooner, Mr. Lewandowski," he said earnestly. "We didn't mean to keep it from you."

Robert eased his expression and laughed. "I understand," he softly said in response. "While I can't say I'm not surprised, I appreciate your honesty. Also, Marc, we've known each other for some time now. Just call me as usual." Your father joked with his teammate, your boyfriend.

You felt a wave of relief when you realized he wasn't upset. To be honest, he looked more interested than angry. "So, what do you think, Dad?" You questioned him.

Robert leaned forward, a small smile playing on his lips. "Well, if Marc here has managed to win your heart for seven months without my knowledge, he must be doing something right," he said, his tone teasing yet approving.

Marc and you exchanged a relieved smile as you felt the tension ease. Despite his reputation for being serious, Your dad has surprised you today by showing you compassion and comprehension.

You said, "Thank you, Dad," appreciating his understanding.

He chuckled loudly and replied. "Please just promise me that you will keep me updated. I'm happy for you both."

It was impossible not to feel an overwhelming feeling of relief. The secret was finally out.

[love-belle]

saw ur mom at the grocery store !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which their post break-up era is them hanging out with each other's families.

or

for when you find out that your second family is actually your ex's family. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // charles leclerc x fem!reader

sequel - well, i'm still in love with you ·˚ ༘

warnings - language

author's note - hello!!!! a short one but i hope u like it <3 thank u sm for reading i love you <3

≡;- ꒰ °twitter ꒱

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by lorenzotl, carmenmmundt, lilymhe and 797,427 others

yourusername saw ur mom at the grocery store i always knew she really did like me more

7,825 comments

username THE CAPTION

username i just gasped omg

username HELPHSHSKAKSJSKAK

username MAMA LECLERC AND Y/N

lorenzotl please return my mother

-> yourusername shush we're going shopping

username THE SHADEEEEE

username i know charles is shaking rn

-> username bro regrets introducing them 💀💀💀

username love that they're still so close like ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

carla.brocker stay right where you are, i'm on my way

-> yourusername already ordered a frappe for u <3

username I NEED CHARLES TO REACT TO THIS RN LIKE

username bro hurt her so bad she started rhyming

-> yourusername PLEASE

username why r u so pretty

username idk what happened just the fact that charles should be on his knees crying screaming throwing up for her to take him back

username the way pascale is always so "😍😍😍😍🥰🥰🥰🥰😘😘😘😘☺️☺️☺️☺️" with her :///

arthur_leclerc pineapple is mad. i repeat pineapple is mad

-> yourusername hoes mad ur honour

-> username NOT CHARLES BEING PINEAPPLE

username THIS IS SO WHOLESOME (if we ignore the caption)

username should've known it was only a matter of time before y/n said something 💀💀💀💀💀

username queens

-> username icons

-> username girlbosses

username charles is fuming rn i Know it

lilymhe missing u ml

-> yourusername cannot wait to see u bb <3

username no bc why did i think for even a second that they ended on good terms.

username my two absolute girlbosses

charlotte2304 wowwwwwwww. guess my invitation got lost in mail huh?

-> yourusername we're literally going to dinner tonight??????

-> charlotte2304 okay and???????

-> yourusername join us!!!!! we can have a girls' day!!!!! carla is on her way too!!!!!! - pascale

-> charlotte2304 i'm halfway through the door love you!!!

username no bc all jokes aside i wonder how y/n and charles must be feeling with yk, both of them being close to each other's families and friends like

-> username no bc imagine having to stay in the same friend circle after u break up like that's so 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

username the caption punched me in the gut js saying

username she's the favourite child 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by carlossainz55, pierregasly, landonorris and 868,525 others

charles_leclerc vacation with ex in-laws ❤️

8,627 comments

username NAH NO WAY

username OH MY GOD

username PLEASE

username charles being a petty bitch we love to see it

username NOT HIM GOING ON A WHOLE ASS VACATION WITH HIS EX'S FAMILY

arthur_leclerc that's where you had to go "so so so urgently"

-> charles_leclerc yeah !!!

username bro went on a vacation with her family bc she went grocery shopping with his mom 💀💀💀💀💀💀

username no bc he got the grandparents too

-> username HE GOT THE DOG

username y/n bout to move in his childhood home i can feel it

-> username they're both so stubborn and petty so i wouldn't be surprised at all 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

username him being close with her family after they split hits me in the heart idek why

lorenzotl maman says you should've told her, she wanted to see them too

-> charles_leclerc i invited them to dinner next week, tell her to not worry

username THIS IS SO

username no bc she went GROCERY SHOPPING with his mom and this mf went on a VACATION

username what'd they even talk about 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

-> username "your daughter is giving me grey hair" "you're not the only one, son"

*liked by charles_leclerc*

-> username PLEASE OMG

username i would do anything to be on this vacation

username kinda need y/n and charles to interact again

username IT'S ONLY 7AM WHAT THE FUCK

landonorris tell (your mom's name) i miss her cooking and her favourite son says hi

-> charles_leclerc she says she's going to the next race so she'll make something for you and no. i'm her favourite son

-> carlossainz55 pretty sure it's me

-> pierregasly no way

-> lewishamilton it's me actually

-> maxverstappen1 shut up it's me

-> danielricciardo it's me lmfao

-> yourmomsusername it's actually mick and roscoe

-> mickschumacher YES

-> username the way everyone is close to y/n's family :///

username y/n's next post "so i moved into my ex's childhood home lol"

-> username the way idk what to expect from her 💀

username alrightttt all jokes aside please get back together with mom ❤️

username no bc if they don't work out then there's no hope for me 💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

[remlionheart]

Split Decision

* ˚ ✦ MDNI ✦ ˚ *

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ i woke up this morning w a slutty, feral, urgent need for some soukoku x fem!reader smut and this fic just kinda poured out of me (literally), 3.7k words. porn with a plot. (hope u like it nasty) you're an intern, ending your last day in Yokohama when you're approached at the hotel bar by two men who have one very pressing question for you: red or white wine? i was melting into an actual puddle writing this so lemme know whatcha think, luv u ♡ (and as alwaaayysss, thank u to the loml @bratbby333 for proofreading and being just as fucking pumped for this to come out as i was ♡) *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

You were tired, exhausted after a day filled with meetings that you barely contributed anything to. You were grateful for your internship, happy that it held the promise of a job right after graduation but being in Yokohama for the last two days had been a bit lackluster.

You sat at the bar of your hotel with lazy, muffled jazz music dancing around you as you fiddled with the straw in your empty cocktail glass.

The trip itself hadn't been all bad. The days were long, but you'd managed to make the most of your nights. The firm you were interning for was gracious enough to make it an all-expenses paid trip and you'd definitely taken full advantage of that over the last week.

You'd spent your nights in the most upscale restaurants the city had to offer, taking yourself on little dates to pass the time. You'd found yourself sitting alongside powerful businessmen and prominent executives that made you feel important even though you were still very much on the outskirts of their social circles. You had been a fly on the wall, quietly observing a world that you could only hope to one day be a part of.

It'd been a learning experience if nothing else. A secret glimpse into how rich men behaved when they thought no one was watching. There was something intoxicating about it all. Something that made you want to try harder when you got back home. You were determined to have this sort of life for yourself one day and you would.

That's what made being responsible tonight all the more important. Your flight back home was set to leave at 6 am. Your bags were already packed and waiting for you in your room. As tempting as it was to venture out into the city again, you needed to be well-rested and level-headed when you woke up tomorrow. So, you'd kept your promise to yourself and settled on slipping into your last clean black dress and grabbing a few drinks at the hotel bar to end your makeshift vacation.

Your legs dangled from your stool, the strap of your dress slipping down your arm as you yawned. The bar had been mostly vacant all night. People passing by, but never actually staying for more than one drink. The vintage grandfather clock at the corner of the room watched you tauntingly, another sway of its heavy arms indicating that it was nearing midnight.

You knew it was time to head back. Your hand reached out to bell for the bartender when two opposing, but equally powerful drinks were suddenly placed at either side of you.

A deep, rich red wine on your left and a deceptively alluring white wine on your right. Your eyes hesitantly drifted between the two men that were now occupying the seats next to you, the warmth of their bodies radiating off of them as they sized you up.

"Which one will it be, angel?" His voice was like velvet, a dangerous smirk creeping across his face as his brown eyes met you. His partially bandaged fingertips slowly pushed the Chardonnay towards you. "You look like a woman of good taste. Honestly, I think you'd like this one much better."

A gloved hand rested on the small of your back, gently turning you around to face him instead. His disheveled red hair and azure gaze were hard to ignore as he nudged the Cabernet closer to you. "Tch, you're too pretty for that cheap shit." He smirked. "Besides, I bet you're wantin' something that would hit way deeper than that, right?"

Your breath was suddenly lodged in your throat, an ache burning between your legs at the sheer shamelessness of it all.

The brunette's smile was piercing, his stare slicing into the man on your left as he let out a low laugh. "You've always had quite the imagination, haven't you Chuuya?" His eyes maintained the same sharpness, dragging back to yours with fervor. "I think what she really needs is something that would leave her begging for more and that's not something that measly little sweet red of yours would do."

The air between the three of you was suddenly suffocating.

You crossed one leg over the other, finding yourself actually having to clench while they carried on with their salaciously threatening banter. Their fingers roaming along your back and the top of your hand. Both inching closer and closer, still spilling out corrupt little nothings about which one would taste better going down your throat and which one would fill you up until there was no more room left.

You needed to be in bed. You needed to keep your wits about you. You needed to tell them both that you didn't have time for this, but your insides were on fire the harder they fought over you.

After being ignored at every meeting you'd gone to this week and being nothing more than a wallflower at the dinner parties you'd attended, having two admittedly depraved but attractive men competing over you like this was enough to make you forget about trivial things like time and responsibilities.

They were still going on. Still gently petting and praising you while their insults towards each other grew heavier and headier.

Your blood rushed through your veins as you looked down at the contrasting wines sitting in front of you. You knew the minute that you took a sip of either, your fate would be sealed for the night. You'd be declaring yourself to one of them. The only smart option you had would be to push both drinks aside, to choose yourself, and to leave the two of them to carry on with their degenerate rivalry with the next unsuspecting girl that waltzed in here.

But you weren't going to settle for either.

As you glanced between them, it dawned on you that there was an alternate, much more menacing 4th option at your disposal.

Their voices came to a pause when they noticed your hand finally raise, hovering directly in the center of the two glasses. Your eyes danced from the brunette back to Chuuya, a hazy smile pulling at the corner of your mouth despite the fact that your heart felt like it was capable of ripping straight through your chest at any given second.

You rested your palm over both, letting your middle finger slide into the Cabernet and your index finger slide into the Chardonnay in perfect unison.

The tension was palpable as they watched you slowly pull out and bring them to your lips. You cocked your head to the side, your tongue generously gliding against the mixture of red and white before you brought them all the way into your mouth, spit slightly dribbling down your chin while you looked between the two men.

A smile cut across your face as you noticed the two sets of blown out pupils staring back at you. "Does that answer your question?"

"No," Chuuya was the first to break the silence. "No fuckin' way am I letting that asshole anywhere near the same room as us."

But it only seemed to pique the brunette's interest more.

A grin that could rival that of the devil's began to pull at the corner of his mouth. "Oh c'mon, Chuuya. You're really gonna deny this angel what she wants?"

"Don't start with me, Dazai." he snarled, his eyes softening a bit when they reached yours. "Look, I'd love to fuck you, but -"

Dazai took full advantage of the redhead's decision to opt out, spinning your barstool towards him so that your back was abruptly facing Chuuya before he could even finish his sentence. "Well," he smirked with a dangerous sense of wit in his voice. "Guess that just leaves us then."

"Wait a minute, that's not how this works!" Your chair was once again being flung in the opposite direction. A gloved hand gently cupping yours as he tried to reason with you. "You're gorgeous, y'know that, right? Even if you end up leavin' by yourself, I promise it'd still be better than endin' up with that mackerel over there."

It should've been an insult. In fact, you were certain that it was an insult, but for some deranged reason, it made Dazai all the more persistent to get you what you had originally asked for.

"Okaaay, okaayy." He conceded as he stood up. "There's no need for petty nicknames. If you're too self-conscious to share a beautiful woman's body with me, that's all you have to say."

"Self-conscious?" The edge in Chuuya's tone only gave Dazai what he wanted. "I'm not self-conscious, you arrogant bastard. I just don't trust you."

Dazai leaned into your ear, his hand shielding his mouth though his voice was far from a whisper. "It's because of his height, I'm afraid. Quite sad really."

"Alright, cut the shit." It was enough to finally bring the redhead to his feet.

He stood up, grabbing your hand to help you off your chair, eyes now locked firmly with yours. "You really want us to fuck you?" He asked, completely ignoring the absolutely vile smirk Dazai was sporting.

A mix of fear and arousal pooled between your thighs as you realized that this was your one chance to back out.

You looked between the two of them one last time before promptly grabbing the drinks that were left on the counter and knocking them both back one right after the other.

"My room or yours?" You asked.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

The three of you had ended up in Chuuya's suite which was at least three times the size of your room. It was lofty, decorated with high-rise windows that were covered by thick, black privacy curtains. His king-sized bed made up in pristine white sheets that you feared would soon be ripped to shreds with the way the two of them could barely share the same elevator without almost killing each other, let alone share you.

Chuuya took off his gloves and hung his coat in the closest next to Dazai's as you slipped out of your heels and left them by the door. Your heart was suddenly in your throat now that you were actually here.

You were still by the entryway, not entirely sure how this was going to start while Chuuya went around and began dimming the lights, making a snide comment about how the less he had to see of Dazai, the better. The brunette just smirked, taking a seat on the edge of his bed, motioning for you to join him.

He spread his legs, lightly guiding you to stand in front of him as he kissed the back of your hand. His brown eyes trailed over you intently, his slender fingers tracing along the curve of your hip. "No need to be nervous," he whispered, tangling his free hand into yours.

There was something so tantalizing about the way he was looking at you. Eager but thorough, like he wanted to memorize every single inch of you. "See how pretty she is, Chuuya?"

You felt him approach you from behind, his calloused hands holding your hair into a makeshift ponytail while his breath fanned across the top of your shoulder. "Care if I unzip this?" he asked, his lips pressing softly against the side of your neck as you nodded. He continued to kiss and nip at you, carefully dragging the zipper down your spine before letting it fall to the floor.

"Fuck."

It was perhaps the one thing that they'd agreed on all night.

Dazai had the full-frontal view of you and Chuuya had the back. You were on full display for them both due to the fact that you'd opted for no bra or panties when you'd left your room earlier, thinking that you'd be coming straight back anyway. What a lie that had turned out to be.

Dazai's hand roamed along your stomach, goosebumps dancing across your skin as his fingertips dipped a bit lower. Chuuya's mouth was still on the nape of your neck, his grip tightening around your hips, drawing the poutiest little whimpers out of you.

"And to think you almost made us pass this up." Dazai taunted. "That would've been suuuch a shame."

"Shut up." Chuuya grunted, pulling you closer so that your ass was flushed perfectly against him. Your back arched feeling how hard he was, another little noise you couldn't quite control escaping you.

Dazai raised an eyebrow at this, realizing how easy it was to make you squirm.

"Oh, our girl's sensitive, isn't she?" He smirked, his fingers making their way to your center, just barely touching the outside of your folds. "Hmm," He hummed, surveying your desperate, dripping cunt. "What kind of sounds do you think she'll make if I do this?"

His finger ran along your clit, only giving you a moment to adjust to the sensation before he immediately plunged it inside of you.

"Nngh ~!" You whined, ramming yourself further into Chuuya's bulge. He held you steady, stuck somewhere between severely hating that Dazai had made you moan like that and fucking loving that you did it while grinding against him.

"Aw, look at that. I think she likes you, Chuuya." Dazai mocked, sliding into you again without warning, jealousy washing over him at how you were holding onto the redhead for support.

He went deeper, adding in another finger, to redirect your attention down to him as you mewled. "Feel good, angel?" he asked through heavy lashes.

You nodded back at him so pitifully, it made him groan, rubbing his thumb against your clit as his other two digits continued their assault on you.

You felt Chuuya undoing his belt behind you, his pants quietly dropping to the ground.

"You're doing so good," he praised into the softness of your neck, stroking himself with one hand and palming at your chest with the other. Squeezing a nipple between his fingers as you filled the room with more heavenly noises. "Think you can do me a favor, baby?" His voice felt like blissful static against the shell of your ear.

"M -" you struggled, your eyes nearly crossing at Dazai relentlessly hitting your g-spot. "Mhmmm." you finally managed.

"Can you bend over f'me?"

You tried your best to comply, but Dazai wasn't making it easy. In fact, he was making it impossible. Every time you tried to move, he'd go deeper, practically pulling you towards him from the inside with the curl of his long fingers.

Your vision was blurry, your body forgetting how to move altogether as the two men fought over you like you were a toy that they were willing to break in half as long as it meant the other person couldn't have it anymore.

"I -" you whined, noticing the absolutely feral smirk spread across Dazai's face. "I'm gonna - fuck, I can't -"

As much as Chuuya wanted to murder him for making you cum first, he knew his turn was next and he was going to fuck you into oblivion. "I've got you." he breathed, still playing with your nipple and holding you in place. "You're okay, baby. Let it out. Oh, just like that. Good fuckin' girl."

Dazai panted as you soaked his fingers, greedily trying to draw another one out of you before Chuuya intervened. "Alright, enough." he said, carefully pulling you away from him. "Here." he said, guiding you so that your ass was arched up for him and your face was on the mattress.

He was just about to put it in when Dazai stopped him, swiftly wriggling himself out of his pants before sitting on the edge of the bed again and placing your head above his dick.

Chuuya ran a frustrated hand over his face, the last fucking thing he wanted to see was your pretty mouth wrapped around Dazai while he was inside of you, but he knew he didn't have a choice.

"Be easy on her," he warned him.

You looked up at Dazai with glazed over eyes as he smiled down at you, proud of his work. "You know I wouldn't hurt you, right angel?"

Your pussy throbbed at the way he was able to make such a reassuring question feel so sinister.

His cock was long and thick and you were quickly realizing just how hard it was going to be to not choke on it. You started off slow, letting him tangle his hand into your hair as you lolled your tongue out and pressed it against him.

"Oh, fuck." Dazai groaned watching you make your way up to his tip, graciously opening your mouth wider to accommodate him.

Chuuya was wildly annoyed but not at all surprised at how vocal Dazai was. He blocked it out by rubbing his tip between your folds, reeling in the way your back arched for him as he softly massaged your abused little clit.

You were moaning, doing your best not to lose your concentration from how intoxicatingly tender Chuuya was handling you.

Whereas Dazai had practically bullied an orgasm out of you, Chuuya was prepared to play the long game. He'd fuck you slow and deep for hours if that's what you wanted. He was determined to make you feel so good you wouldn't be able to remember any other words besides his name.

Once he was satisfied with how wet both of you were from your cum, Chuuya lined himself up with your entrance. "You ready baby?"

"Y - yes." You struggled, Dazai only letting you come up for air for a second before your head was promptly pushed back down again.

You whimpered, completely forgetting what you were doing when Chuuya entered you. His cock stretching you out more than you knew you were capable of. "Oh - mygod." You choked out, eyes pleading as you looked back at Dazai.

Surprisingly, he wasn't jealous. Wasn't instantly shoving your head back down to get you to focus on him. He was in a euphoric daze seeing how fucked-out you looked. Your eyes were full-on watering, your pussy wrapped so tight and snug around Chuuya.

Dazai's grip in your hair lightened, pulling you up but only so he could watch you from a better angle. He held your head in one hand and began stroking himself with the other. "Oh, angel. You love being fucked like that, don't you?"

You nodded pathetically, completely overstimulated by the feeling of Chuuya pounding into you and the beautiful sight of Dazai jerking himself off to you getting railed. "Say it." He smirked. "Use your words."

Chuuya groaned, it was the first time all night that he wasn't tuning Dazai out. His hips thrusted into you harder as you whined. "I - love." Your eyebrows knitted together, your mouth dropping open at how deep Chuuya suddenly was. "I love - it." You cried out. "I love it so fu - cking much."

Chuuya wasn't sure if Dazai was trying to hurt or help him by coaxing such depraved things out of you, but he was lost in the sound of your moans.

Your legs began to shake, your cunt pulsating as Chuuya's tip knocked against your cervix. "I -" your head shook, you felt like you were going to pass out. "I can't - s'too much, I'm gonna -"

"Let me feel it, baby." It was almost more of a beg than a command. "Let me feel that pretty pussy soak my cock."

Dazai's breathing hitched in his throat watching the two of you. The tears that were spilling down your pretty face and the guttural noises you were forcing out of the redhead so effortlessly. The way neither one of you were coherent anymore, too lost in the way your bodies were aching for one another to know anything else.

Dazai wasn't sure why it was doing this to him. Wasn't sure why he couldn't stop himself, but just as you started to cum, he did too. He shoved your mouth back around him, reveling in the shock and pleasure and absolute awe on your face as you swallowed every last drop he shot into your mouth.

Your body felt like it was convulsing. The three of you had somehow all managed to reach your climax in perfect, lewd, synchronicity. Dazai's cum was pooling down your chin while Chuuya filled you up from behind. A combination of both of your fluids mixing together and then squirting out of you when he finally pulled out with a heavy, "Oh, FUCK."

You collapsed into Dazai's lap, your legs refusing to hold you. Chuuya helped pull you up onto the bed as the three of you fell into the mattress with a thud. You laid in the middle of them, your head rested peacefully against Dazai's chest as you tried to stop the room from spinning.

"And you told me to go easy on her." Dazai mused, running his fingers through your hair.

Chuuya rolled over on his side, wrapping his arm around your waist as he placed a kiss on the back of your neck. "'Least I didn't get off watching her get railed by another dude." he sneered.

"Yeah, you're right." Dazai tsked, "Only thing that could've made it better is if it was by a taller man."

"Dazai, I swear to god -"

But their bickering came to a quick end when you began to shift against them.

"Hey," you mumbled dreamily, causing both of them to immediately revert back to petting you and leaving light kisses along your skin. "Could you shut the fuck up? I've gotta be up at 5 tomorrow to catch my flight."

Chuuya smirked and set an alarm on his phone. Truthfully, he was willing to let you talk to him however you wanted with what you'd done to him tonight.

He reluctantly pulled the comforter up over the three of you. As much as he didn't want Dazai in his room for another minute, you looked too content to move.

You had never felt more safe or secure than you did being smushed between the two of them. Their words were hazy as you began to doze off, two sets of strong arms wrapped around you.

"Y'know, I think I'll kinda miss her." Chuuya breathed.

"Me too," Dazai smiled, looking down at you. "She's our girl."

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

[luveline]

For KBD asks. Maybe pregnant! Reader and Steve are able to have a little babymoon with just the two of them and he’s just super sweet and lovey dovey with reader 😊😊 love your writing!!

KBD —you and Steve spend some rare time alone. mom!reader

You thought going on vacation three weeks before your due date was one, misguided, and two, more pain than it was worth, but Steve insisted it would be relaxing and you’d figured why not. He deserves a vacation. 

You wished you’d done this for every baby, now. 

“What a beautifully huge bump.” 

You don’t feel beautiful, huge is allowed. “Thanks.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

You and Steve lay lakeside, just a couple hours from home. He passes you a glass wet with condensation, a drink you’re sharing, your turn to sip at the slushy insides. 

“It really is ginormous,” you say after a sip. It’s not horrifying or alien or anything people love to say of big baby bumps, but it is heavy. Perhaps not as beautiful as you wish, but doing a good job. You hold your stomach. In half a moment, the baby stirs. 

“Any further along for names?”

With three girls at home and a fourth drawing near, you’ve not thought about it much. There are other urgent matters to attend to, dance classes, crayons, a new bassinet, a new rocker, a new everything that Steve had to build. You’ve been trying to make sure everybody in the family is happy, including Steve, which hasn’t left much time just for you. 

The babymoon was a great idea. Steve is a genius, ten times as thoughtful as he thinks he is.

“Not one,” you say. 

“Well, you’ll think of something.” 

“Can you come and kiss me?” You turn your face to point at the soft skin under your jaw. “Right here?” 

Steve lays like a dead body in his chair. Boneless, he turns his head away from you, then slowly back. “Oh, sorry, are you talking to me? You wouldn’t really make your gorgeous husband get up again when he’s only just laid down, right?” 

“As opposed to what, gorgeous husband?” you ask mildly. “You want me to get up?” 

You’re lucky you can still move. Bump is huge and hurting. Every step you take hurts both your ankles and your spine. 

Steve sighs like he’s in pain, but he gets up. He crosses the step to your lounger, and kneels down beside it. “Where did you want it?” he asks, his breaths throwing goosebumps down your arms. 

“Wherever you wanna put it.” 

“I could kiss all over you,” he says, bringing his turned hand to your cheek, flat of his nail caressing your cheek. “Don’t tempt me.” 

He moves his hand to the other cheek, furthest from him, and holds your face, giving you a firm squeeze. It’s not intimidating, the opposite, like a silent I got you as he turns your face away and leans in. 

“Here?” he asks against the place you’d pointed. 

You laugh, taking a fistful of his soft hair. “Stop, you’re tickling me.” 

“You asked for this.” 

“I asked for a kiss.” 

“Right.” He kisses you in the place you’d pointed originally. 

“This is really nice.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Not just the kiss. This vacation.” You brush your fingers through his hair. 

“I wish we’d known about it before. I love our girls, but…” 

But this is the first time you and Steve have been alone together for a long, long time, the first time you’ve ever been completely alone with your new baby. You can’t forget how much you love Steve, but it’s a great reassurance to be here and remember that you’re good together. You’re a family unit, but you’re also just Y/N and Steve. 

“I miss spending time with you,” Steve says. “I know this is the worst time to say it, but we need to spend more time together, just you and me.” 

You turn into his hand. “No, I get it,” you whisper.

It doesn’t need to be said how much you love your kids, isn’t that what you’re thinking day in and day out? You love them, you take care of them, it’s a full time job. And yet this time without them feels rare and priceless at once. It’s not a great time to realise it when you’re about to have a newborn and absolutely no free time, but it’s okay. You can make it work. 

Steve wraps his arms around you, forcing you forward to embrace you tightly. You're quick to hug back. 

“I’ll never get over you,” he says. 

“‘Magine we never met.” 

“I don’t want to.” 

“I can’t think about it without you… doesn’t make any sense.” 

“It doesn’t make sense, we’re the only right way.” He smiles into your cheek. 

“I really can’t picture my life without you.” 

Steve draws back. He can’t look at you with any more softness than he does then, even as his lips turn into a smirky grin. “You don’t need to. And let’s not! It’s exhausting, I just wanna lay in the sun with you, listen to the sound of the lake.” 

“Are your knees hurting?” 

You’ve just remembered he’s kneeling in shorts on the wooden dock. Steve laughs. “Who cares about my knees? Come on, I’m having another kiss.” 

“Says who?” you ask. 

He tips your chin up. 

[madamechrissy]

♡ Time after Time ♡

♡ ♡ Pairings ♡ ♡ CEO! Satoru Gojo x Fem Reader

♡ ♡ Warnings ♡ ♡ MDNI- Just sexual tension in this chap hehe, more explicit as we go. Gojo is really a dick at first FYI

♡ ♡ Word Count ♡ ♡ 4.2k

♡ ♡ Summary ♡ ♡ Satoru Gojo is your boss And you've been his head assistant for over two years now. You do everything for him, including and not limited to cleaning his messes, picking out his clothes, and writing his speeches. Sixteen hour days... night calls... You are tired of being overworked and at his beck and call. You decide you are going to put in your two weeks notice. He is shocked, and wants to try to keep you, because you're the best. But you know better. Right? .You really wanna fucking quit. You also wanna fuck him. Also, fuck him.

A/N (Kinda has 'two weeks notice' vibes a bit! No use of y/n.) Fully finished. This was my first gojo fic so maybe a Lil less put together than my current ones

Masterlist- Playlist

Chapter 1

You looked up at him from your desk. You were tired, so damn tired. You needed a fucking break, a long one. Your mind wanders to that vacation away from Tokyo that will never happen, not because you don’t have vacation days or money. Nope, it was  because you work far too fucking much, twelve to sixteen hour days sometimes. For him, your damn boss, Satoru Gojo.

Always asking you to stay late, always running his errands, saving his ass, covering for him. Writing speeches, making presentations, finding him dates even. When Gojo wanted something, he got it, and it didn't matter if it ruined every plan you ever had, you had to get it done for him.

He ran casinos, owned a hotel, a nightclub, you name it, Satoru Gojo owned it. He’d inherited some from his family but mostly he was self made. Even the tower you worked in, Kamo Tower, was one of the best in the city. Everything Gojo touched seemed to turn to gold, or better yet platinum.

You had been so excited two years ago to be his intern, then ecstatic when you quickly moved up the ranks to be his head assistant. You made good money, enough to send home to your family and take care of them too. But you literally were constantly at that man's beck and call.

Your tired eyes lower as you rest your chin on your hand for a moment, for even last night at two am you'd had to run to his fucking rescue.

You were asleep, but the phone never stops fucking buzzing.

Dick boss: I need you.

You: no.

Dick boss: triple OT pay?

You: fuck. What is it?

Dick Boss: I'm in a bit of a bind…

The bind? Three passed out naked women in his bed, and a room destroyed, that he needed to get fixed so he could sleep. Yeah.

The night before? Well he had urgently needed you to pick out his outfit for his soiree, he was too coked out to pick apparently. And Gojo Satoru had so many three piece suits, ties and shoes, it was actually disgusting.

Nanami Kento walks up to you, overworked from his own boss in the building, a trait you two share as head assistants. He hands you a cup of coffee in a styrofoam cup, with your name written on it in sharpie, clearly from one of the coffee shops nearby. If you had time to have a fucking life you would have flirted with him, for sure. Maybe he would have, too?

Dirty blonde and handsome, his suit stretched across his muscles just so… and fuck if he didn’t look like he needed a damn vacation too.

“Long night?” Kento asked, grabbing you out of your thoughts, an amused and tired expression on his face. You sigh, nodding.

“Thank you for the coffee. I owe ya one.” You let the sweet liquid hit your lips, eyes peering to Gojo's office. There was some lady in there, pretty as fuck in some crazy attempt at business stripper, but he for some reason was scowling at you. What, you dared to sip coffee and not work for two minutes?

“Not at all. Happy birthday.” 

“Shit that’s today?” You teased, but you did know.

“We don’t really get birthdays.”

“Haha no we don’t. But thank you!”

“Of course. Take care of yourself okay? Gojo is… ugh.” Nanami looked disgusted as he shook his head, pushing up his fancy glasses. You couldn’t help but giggle at that as Nanami walked off.

Your phone rings, because of course Gojo can't just come to you, you must go to him. Your eyes roll.

“Yes, Sir?” You answer the phone, tapping your glittery manicured nails on your desk, the one treat you gave yourself.

“My office.” That silken command may have excited most women, shit, most human beings, but it was a source of annoyance for you.

“Coming.”

You sighed, hanging up the phone and sipping your coffee. The office coffee usually went cold daily with the amount of shit you had to do. You smooth down your dress, adjusting the buckle of your belt just a tad before walking towards the giant glass office.

Gojo’s office had floor to ceiling windows surrounding it that had a ridiculous view of the cityscape below. You all were on the top floor of Kamo Tower, after all. The air was filled with a faint scent, woodsy and fresh, a signature fragrance that lingered in the space, distinctive to Gojo.

As you enter, you see Gojo himself reclining casually in a lavish chair, his signature Gucci sunglasses on, covering those ridiculous blue eyes. Which you honestly appreciated because he made shit hard to focus, even after two years of working as his assistant.

“Sir?” You stand there cautiously, thinking of just putting in your notice then and fucking there, like that dream you had in your two hours of sleep.

“Status update on my meetings?”

“I sent you them all.” He smirked, arrogant. You grit your teeth. “You have two meetings today, Sir, one for the new hotel partnership, then you have a meeting with Mr. Suguru about your casino. And of course, you have your event tonight.”

“Speaking of that, I need you to come with me tonight for the charity ball.” You sigh, shutting the door behind you, resting your aching head against it.

“I asked for tonight off.” You murmur, and Gojo scoffs, grinning, damn fangs like some vampire glinting from the sun that beamed in. He stands, stretching his long elegant limbs, before he walks closer to you, making the scent of him waft through your senses.

“I'll pay you well. Plus you’ll be going as my date for the event, not going to make you actually work. You'll get to relax and shit. Drinks and food.”

“As your date?” You blink, pursing your lips.

“I know, it’s kinda a dream scenario.” He laughed at his own joke, a habit he certainly had.

“Since when does CEO Satoru need a date? Especially me . I can just arrange you a date like I always do.”

“It's a delicate partnership and I need someone who is smart. Not eye candy. I need you, law school girl. Plus you’re American, and a lot of the people there are too. So it’s a no brainer.” You sighed, the comment about eye candy biting.

Men hit on you pretty frequently, any time you weren’t working, which you could not say was very often. But of course Gojo banged models on the regular, and you had no time to look like a model, you barely had time to slap on some mascara and concealer every day to hide how tired you were.

“So you don't need anyone pretty… is what you're saying.”

He pauses then, frowning at you. “You're very pretty.” He'd never said that. He'd barely complimented your work. You catch your breath; looking up at him, curious how he had gotten just an inch away.

“‘Not eye candy.’”

“We'll no, you dress kinda boring… like business and shit. Not sexy at all. I mean I’ve never seen you not in a business dress unless it’s at night and I call you, then you wear pajama shorts and shit?”

You snort. “I would dress up if I had a life. All I do is work.”

“Exactly, that’s what I mean by not ‘eye candy’. How you dress, not your looks. But I'll make sure your outfit looks killer, no need to thank me.” Gojo winks at you, lowering his shades, those insane cerulean eyes making you overheat against your will. Big and glittering with silver, the irises the prettiest blue that the earth could scarcely recreate. Eyes that made anyone do anything he wanted.

You were almost immune to that by now.

“It's my fucking birthday and you want me to do overtime?” You demand, and frowns with those full lips.

“Birthday?” Gojo looks confused, as if you should not have one of them, for it’s inconvenient.

“Yeah. Twenty-sixth.”

He evaluates you. “Why did I think you were like twenty two?”

“I’m not sure. If I was I wouldn’t even have my law degree yet, baby face maybe. But it’s my third birthday here, and you never give me the day off. I will absolutely not put in OT.”

“What, you have plans, hot shot?” Gojo chuckles, his tone mocking.

No. Sure don't. “Yep.” You lie. He knows.

“Cancel em.” He shakes a hand dismissively and you scowl.

“No.” You cross your arms under your breasts, and his gaze darts down for the briefest of moments.

“No?” No one turned Gojo down. No one ever told the gorgeous CEO no. His six foot four frame hunched as he placed an arm on one side of you, peering down, frown still on his handsome features. You bravely glare back up at him.

“No. Gojo, I'm really exhausted, and I just want to have fun and actually relax for my birthday.”

“Have fun with me. And make killer money. Win win.”

“That's work. Not fun.”

“Hmm.” He tilts your chin up with his long fingers, making you peer up at him, surprised at the contact. “I'll make it fun. Promise. Then I'll give you the day off tomorrow. Deal?”

“I could find you a smart American girl? Eye candy too.”

“You're my best, though, I need you.”

Bastard.

“Ugh. Fine.”

He grins, and you catch a breath as he backs away. “Good. I'll have the outfit brought to your apartment later? I’m assuming you don’t have anything fancy enough for this one.”

“Probably not. Fine. Need my size?”

His eyes are drinking you in as he smirks. “You think I haven’t gathered your size by now?” Your cheeks overheat. Though you’re used to him, at the end of the day you still had a damn vagina, and it reacted to him. He chuckled deeply, turning away and waving a hand. “You're dismissed.”

Just like that, your birthday night was just work. Work for Gojo.

***

“Can’t wait to put in my two weeks ugh.” You grumble to yourself as you finish up your makeup, for once having fun with it. If you had to work your birthday you would absolutely look gorgeous for it. Lashes, winged liner, red lips.

The dress he had ordered laid in a satin box on your white day bed. You sigh, opening it finally, and you blink rapidly as you look at the gown encased in baby blue and white tissue paper, the colors of Gojo himself. You gently pulled out the gown and most of your irritation died off.

Black and decked with sequins, it glittered in the light, it was a velvety fabric, as soft as a caress. As you slid it on it glided over your curves, accentuating the nip at your waist, the arch of your hips. The neckline plunged ridiculously low, revealing a generous amount of cleavage that you typically kept under wraps at work. You wonder how Gojo knew you had just so much up top…

Pervert is what he was.

Pervert with killer taste.

The dress had a slit that went dangerously up one of your well toned thighs, exposing nearly all of one leg, while the rest of the dress hit the floor. It was if he truly knew every measurement you had, for the dress could not have hit any better. Those damn analyzing eyes of his…

You spun to look at the back of the dress, which dipped daringly as well, exposing an expanse of skin, from shoulder blades down to the dimples on your lower back. You rummage through your little cherry wood jewelry box, eyeing to see what would work with the dress. Luckily, everything went well with black, so you snatched up a pretty silver cross necklace and earrings.

A text pops up, and you read it.

Dick Boss: Waiting out front in the car.

You: Just a few.

You slip on your shoes and spritz some body spray on, your favorite from Victoria’s Secret you save for special things, then slide on a pair of black heeled boots, contemplating putting on underwear. Did it matter what kind? It wasn’t like you’d had any dick since like college at this point. And you definitely weren’t fucking Gojo, since neither of you were interested.

You because you saw the girls he fucked. Him because… you weren’t ‘arm candy’. Or a dumb ass bimbo. Sometimes you wished you were, since they seemed sweet and happy in life, while you drowned.

Dick Boss: I’m waiting…”

Fucking Gojo. Ugh. You decide to slide on some lacy boy shorts, just in case that slit did go too high you’d have some coverage. Peeking one last time at the mirror, you had to admit you looked beautiful. You text Gojo.

You: Coming now.

You locked up and headed down the stairs of the apartment building, and there was Kiyotaka, Gojo’s driver, opening the door of the black limo for you. Kiyotaka, who somehow was your age now. That boggled your mind more than Nanami. Gojo wore people out, very clearly, but even you had it easier than Kiyotaka.

“My lady.” He said sweetly, and you smiled at him, sliding in, and there Gojo was across from you, long arms spread across the backs of the seat, his head rested back so that his throat was exposed. His head snapped down, and he looked right at you, no sunglasses, only those eyes. His lips parted, and you tensed, prepared for some lewd comment or rude one.

He blinked those white spiky lashes, arms sliding down as Kiyotaka shut the door, gaze taking you in ever so slowly, as if he had all the time in the world. You felt yourself holding your breath as it lazily traveled down and back up your body, clutching your little black evening bag tightly.

“You look…” He trailed off, shaking his head a bit.

“Thank you for the dress.” You cut him off. He exhaled, nodding.

“Of course. Consider it my birthday gift. You look… really fucking hot.”

You giggled at that. Not beautiful or breathtaking. But you’d take it. “Thank you, the dress is so beautiful.”

“Your body is that banging and you hide it like that?” He was somehow right next to you now, and you shiver a bit at the nearness. “I should reprimand you.”

You roll your eyes. “I can’t dress like this at work.”

“You sure the fuck can. I’m the boss, I say so.” His fingertips trailed down your shoulder, and it sent tingles through your body. Why was he so close? “I’m buying you a new wardrobe.”

“The fuck you are. I like to be professional, unlike you.” You smack his hand off errantly, and your bare shoulder grew cold without the touch.

“You do really look good.” You took in his outfit, a black tux, which fit his slim muscles perfectly. It was some shit Bruce Wayne would wear. Maybe Gojo was some super hero or villain. It would fit.

“You do too. You always do.”

“I know.” He winked at you, leaning forward to snatch up champagne and pop it, pouring you both glasses. You took one, letting the bubbles tickle your nose, taking a sip of the sweet drink, moaning softly and shutting your eyes.

“Delicious.” You lick your lower lip and find him a breath away. You don’t move, but you’re frozen, confused as he looks at you like he never has. “Satoru?”

“Are you really thinking of quitting?” He asked softly. You have never seen Gojo like this.

“How did you know?”

“I know everything, baby girl.” He gently runs his long fingers through your hair, a rare frown on his lips.

“Baby girl? The fuck, Satoru. Yes I was thinking of it, an seducing me is not going to change my mind. Is that the point of this?” You demand, irritated, and against your better judgement, fucking horny. His eyes study your own seriously.

“If that was my intention, you’d damn sure know.” Each word was bit out, distinctive, and his hand tightened in your hair, far too strong, yanking your head back. You scowl up at him, your hands clenched into fists.

“Oh, would I?” You challenged him, notching your chin up a bit. He laughed but it was without humor.

“How many women have you heard me fuck in my office? How many have you had to send home? You think I don’t know how to fuck the shit out of you if I wanted to. You wouldn’t even be able to walk.”

Gojo’s whisper was against your lips, and you could taste whiskey on his breath, mixed with his mints he constantly sucked on. He wasn’t touching you, but he was so close you could feel him…

“I won’t fuck you though, so what’s the point of even joking about it. You don’t want me anyway. Not your type.” He snorted, and one of his big hands came to your waist, touching the bare skin of your back and wreaking havoc on every sense you’ve ever had.

“You know my type?” You nod. His thumb brushed under your breast, an action that made the peaks of your breasts tighten, aching against the sequined gown. Damn if his gaze didn’t drop down. You cursed yourself. “The women who entertain me aren’t necessarily my type.”

“Hmm.” It grew difficult to focus. You sip your champagne, leaning back a bit, but Gojo’s grip stays. “It doesn’t matter. You’re talking out of your ass. Too much cocaine tonight?”

His grip tightened, and it made you gasp, looking up at his darkened eyes in the dim light of the limo. “I haven’t had any. I’m just pretty fucking irritated my best assistant wants to leave. You’re ungrateful.”

“Ungrateful!” You snort at that, tossing back the champagne and grabbing at his hand, his wrist, trying to get him off of you. “How the fuck, Satoru? I literally do everything for you!”

“And I pay you damn good!”

“I know. I’d rather be broke somewhere than do sixteen hour days. It’s my damn birthday and here I am!”

“As if you really had plans. You have no friends and no life.”

“Bullshit.” You grit your teeth, shoving at his hard chest. “That’s because I have no damn time! You think I wouldn’t have a boyfriend or something by now?”

“Maybe that’s your problem, why you’re so bitchy and stuck up all the damn time. You need to get fucked good.”

You slapped him then. Slapped your Boss. Slapped Satoru Gojo.

His hand caught your wrist, brutally squeezing, pale cheek just hinted with pink from your mark.

“Ring a little true?”

“I can get fucked if I want.” You yank your hand back.

“I didn’t say that. Clearly you can get fucked. It’s just you don’t even want to and you blame it on my hours, as if you were the type.”

“I’d fuck Nanami Kento if I had any damn time.” Gojo’s eyes widened at that, and his grip on your waist became brutal. “Yep. Sure would. He’s built as fuck, oh and he remembered my birthday. If either of us had time I sure would. So does that answer it for you?”

Gojo bared his teeth at her, a little blue vein in his temple popping out. Your heart beats in your chest, brutally, the thudding loud in your ears. “You… would fuck… Nanami… Kento?”

Each of his words were forced through his teeth.

Ah, you made him mad.

Good.

“Who wouldn’t? He’s hot.” You try to shrug casually.

“Out of anyone in the office?”

“Mmhmm.”

“Including me.”

You open your mouth to say yes, but you know it’s not fucking true. Of course you’d have fucked Gojo, if he wasn’t a dick boss, if he was just a dude…

Look at him.

“Cat got your tongue?” His free hand caught your chin, forcing your gaze to his piercing one. You gulp, licking your lips.

“No.”

“No, what?” His voice was a wicked caress.

“No… not including you. Goddammit. Is that what you want to hear? That I’m not blind? Of course you’re attractive, and you know it, stupid!”

He scoffed. “You’re childish.”

“You!” You shoved at him again, and he let you go, grabbing your glass and refilling it, watching you like a hawk. “It changes nothing. I am planning to leave. I will find a replacement, someone even better than me.”

“There is no one better.” He sounded sincere, a rare thing for Gojo, emotion cracking in his voice as he downed his own glass.

“You think fucking me will keep me as your damn assistant?”

“It’s worth a shot. I’m the best fuck there is.” He shrugged, some of that casual demeanor coming back, and you wanted to yell at your body for its reaction.

“It won’t happen.”

“Yeah? Why?”

“You’re my boss!”

“But you’re leaving.”

“I…”

“Hmm? You seem at a loss for words.” You scowl, looking out the window as the lights flickered by.

“Are we there yet?”

“Childish.”

“Says you!”

“You need a good orgasm. Or ten. Get you to be less of a stuck up nag.”

“I do not! And I am not!”

“You do, and you are.”

“I orgasm plenty, thanks!” You felt your body on fire at that, and Gojo couldn’t look more satisfied, like the Cheshire fucking cat, the grin as wide as it could go, running his hand through his silken white locks.

“Oh, do tell.” He practically purred.

“Cut the shit, Satoru. You’ve never talked like this in the years I’ve worked with you, where the fuck do you get off?”

“I get off in women. Or on them.” He shrugged, enjoying your open mouth, once again lost for words.

“You know I did not mean that!”

“Where do you get off? On a dildo maybe.” You blinked, eyebrows low in a scowl, wanting to hit him again. “No, don’t look the type. Maybe a rose toy. Hmm… or just these little things.” Gojo lifted your hand, already small but ridiculously small in his own, swallowed by him. “They don’t hit deep enough, do they?” His whisper shook you to your core.

You burned, breathless, as he held out his own hand to yours, fingers so fucking long they rivaled the length of a dude’s dick. Likely larger than the couple of dude’s in college, which was about all of your experience. He grinned as you stared on, palm hot and hard against your own.

“I… you…” You wanted to cuss him out. Quit right then.

You also wanted his fingers in you.

“I could get you off, put you in a good mood. We don’t have to have sex for that.” His hand took your own, putting your hand by your heat, between your thighs.

“Why… are you…act- acting like this?” You managed to breathe out, but you had no energy to move away from him, or shove his hand off. Because if you were being honest with yourself, you’d love to ride your frustration out on him.

“Maybe I realize how much I need you to stay as my assistant.” Gojo’s supple lips kiss down your jaw, firm but delicate, as his hand brutally grabs yours and shoves it against yourself, moaning in your ear. “Is my assistant already hot for me? Are you that easy to get wet?”

“Fuck off.”

It’s a whisper. You want it. And you hate him. You hate that your pussy is pulsing against your joined fingers through the barrier of your panties, that the moan in your ear made you wonder what he sounded like when he came. Gojo slid his own finger against your panties, pausing, moaning again, pulling back to look at you.

He was gorgeous.

Your chest rose and fell with your breath.

“Fuck.” He whispered, and something was just different. You saw Gojo with women, always so self assured. But something seemed surprised, vulnerable, when his long finger pressed against the damp sticky fabric, just grazing your clit. You arched your hips up, and his fingertip ran up slightly, pressing more, and Gojo’s lips were just a breath away…

“We’re here, Sir, my Lady.”

Fuck.

You two shot apart, and you struggled to catch your breath, adjusting your dress, gulping down one more glass for good measure. Gojo adjusted his pants, not even looking at you, clearing his throat. You cursed as you saw his tie.

“You can’t tie a tie for shit, Satoru.” You leaned over to him, pulling it apart gently and re-tying it. You noticed his Adam's apple bob up and down. He was quiet. Satoru Gojo, quiet. “There.”

“Thanks.” He said gruffly, and your eyes met.

What the fuck just happened?

Kiyotaka opened the door, exposing them to some cool night air, and you got out, curious just how the fuck this birthday night was going to go.

Chapter 2

Completed fic on ao3, will post chaps on here as well

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55424137/chapters/140629990

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[animeyanderelover]

Since you're starting JJK, can you do the sleeping with a yandere ask for Yuuji, Sukuna, Megumi, Nanami, Gojo and characters of your choice?

I’ll be going on a vacation during my holidays so expect little to no updates from me then. Those sleeping habits that are what I imagine those characters to be like, by the way.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy relationship, toxic relationship, obsession, possessive behavior, delusion, clinginess, abduction

Sleeping with a Yandere

Itadori Yuji

🩷​Yuji is a walking cuddle bear already if you two aren't sleeping in the same bed because he just can't get enough of his sweetheart. An abduction is never something that Yuji sees himself doing nor do you really so with the so unexpected abduction your relationship falls apart and it breaks Yuji's heart. Maybe some part of his brain can understand why you're as upset as you are right now but considering that he only resorts to an abduction in extreme situations, another part of him is just as stubborn to believe that he has done only something to be able to protect you. It isn't like he plans to imprison you forever after all. His delusions have even made him hope that you'd want to share a bed with him yet he resigns himself to your rejection and prepares a futon for you in another room.

🩷​One of the most obvious problems with Yuji isn't even something that is his own fault. Sukuna has to make some comments from time to time to try to annoy and anger the boy which might happen whilst both of you try to sleep as well. He always slaps the mouth of Sukuna that suddenly appears and apologizes to you slightly embarrassed about the inconvenience. Otherwise Yuji sleeps well, really well. Maybe sometimes a bit too well as you can't help but wonder how you can get him to wake up when you awake in the middle of the night and feel the urgent need to go to the bathroom. It always takes you a minute or two of shaking, light slapping and whispering his name until he wakes up and lets you out of his arms because his grip is too strong for you to free yourself alone. He snores slightly but that isn't the worst, you'd much rather make a fuss about the fact that he tends to drool on you in his sleep.

Fushiguro Megumi

💙​As Megumi's darling you'd do the both of you a favor by being a reassuring individual since the Jujutsu Sorcerer tends to be very easily paranoid. He's had a case of being stressed around people before yet now with your addition to his life, this all becomes just multiple times worse. Ultimately it is this paranoia that drives him to the act of an abduction and similar to Yuji, he partially knows why it would scare you. Yet he has never had problems with justifying questionable actions with his love for you in mind so this won't be any different in this scenario. Why don't you understand that this was all done for your safety?? A strong negative response from your side leads to avoidance as he gives you time, gives himself partially time too to calm himself. Both of you sleep in different rooms during that time, although you know that he still keeps an eye on you.

💙​He doesn't want to show a very strong response when both of you start sharing a bed, it isn't his style. He would be lying though if he would say that he isn't looking forward to it. It's one of the highlights of his entire day where he has to exhaust himself with the antics of his fellow Jujutsu Sorcerers and pressure from the Zenin clan so spending the hours of the night with your warmth close to his body always reminds him that there's still something good left for him, a person who makes all the drama durable. I see him as someone who needs hours to fall asleep simply because there's so much going on in his mind and often it happens that Megumi goes through interactions you had with people that day and start overthinking certain gestures and words you exchanged with them. He isn't someone with a deep sleep either and worst of all is that he tends to wake up a lot at night, his gaze always searching for you every time that happens and if he doesn't see you, he tends to freak out a bit.

Zenin Maki

💚​If her darling is acting like a crybaby after their abduction, there might be signs of very mild annoyance from Maki's side but otherwise she is very patient. She fully understand why you're upset and mad at her, she's aware of what she has done. The aspect of protection dulls potential guilt though as she will always value your safety and life over your own feelings if there is no other way around it. She's so tough and strict but oddly fair at the same time because her cold facade doesn't mean that she just doesn't care at all. She's willing to give you some space and time for yourself as she's sure that you need it and as long as you don't try to escape or are seriously rude, she won't force you into anything. You get your own room with your own bed to sleep in and won't hear much from her for the next few days, although you know that she's still checking on you.

💚​She is looking forward to it but don't expect her to openly admit that. She isn't one to ask you first about this and if you're the one to suggest it first, she will never spot teasing you subtly about it for the rest of your life. She does her best though to suppress the smug grin that wants to appear on her face during the first few nights. She isn't actively cuddling you but you definitely have a problem at hand when she decides to swing an arm around your waist because subconsciously she tightens her grip once she falls asleep and since she has a very superior strength to the average human, you won't get up anytime soon unless you wake her up. She normally is able to sleep quite well but when she's stressed she experiences troubles falling asleep or tends to wake up multiple times at night. Normally she acts all tough and rarely talks to you about her own worries but if you ever witness her having an erratic sleep at night, you always know that there's something that is stressing her out.

Ryomen Sukuna

🗾His darling is screwed no matter how you might look at it, especially if they're only a human. Because this man has made it very apparent that he doesn't care for anyone or anything and even you won't be an exception for this. Sukuna has always been a man who takes what he wants and that applies for you just as much. You're an object of his affection and greedy desire, by all means he sees you as his valued possession more than he sees you as a person with feelings and rights. So you can't expect any sympathy from him after your abduction and you'd do your best to not get on his nerves because he can hurt you and he will do so if he feels like it. Sukuna only does what he wants and the only thing you can really do is take it silently in hopes of not angering him but he'd find it cute if you would always show a little bit of fear around him.

🗾​I'm not even sure if he needs any sleep anymore since his times as a human are long over although he has kept his memories from that time so he still remembers that humans need sleep. Although what you need doesn't have to mean by a long shot that he'll just give it to you freely. In fact I totally see him terrorizing your sleep sometimes for the shallow reason of his own sadistic amusement. Other times he only allows you to fall asleep if you let him join you in bed and he'll keep you otherwise awake nights on end until you're too tired to care anymore. You're incredibly dumb for letting him so close to you in your most vulnerable state and the times that he has considered abusing that vulnerability are numerous. Honestly, he's being the ultimate creep by just watching you sleep the entire time, hands roaming over your body to feel what is his but if he's feeling rather relaxed and mellow, he sometimes just buries his face in your neck, closes his eyes and enjoys your scent, your warmth, your heartbeat.

Gojo Satoru

🩵​Best of luck with Gojo after an abduction, better say goodbye to your privacy and personal boundaries because Gojo? He just doesn't give a single fuck about any of those. No, somehow he grows even more overbearing after you're permanently stuck in the probably biggest house that you've ever been in. Partially just because he feels like he has now his dream of living a peaceful and domestic life with his sweet lover without any stress from higher-ups or anyone objecting to this relationship. Now he can just love you and keep you for himself. It's a very strange and questionable way of fulfilling his dream but he is at a point in his life where he has given up to feel guilty and doesn't care anymore. He's always been the strongest to satisfy his own clan and the higher-ups of the sorcerer world so he deserves someone for himself. Someone for him and him only.

🩵​He's a clingy monster and you should already know this as he has barely kept his hands to himself during the entire time since you've known him and that has only grown worse the stronger his obsession got. There is no question, you are going to sleep with him in one bed from the moment you are imprisoned in your new home with him. He isn't even listening to your protests and complains and you'd better not provoke him unless you want to see him dropping his light-hearted facade. Seeing him asleep disturbs you but not because of his clingy behavior and tight hug he always gives you nor his surprisingly deep sleep but because he looks so terribly vulnerable. White hair covering his eyes, soft breaths escaping his lips and no teasing expression adorning his face. It's even worse when he initially wakes up and blue and sleepy eyes stare at you as he whispers, no, pleads you to never leave him. It breaks your heart a little.

Geto Suguru

🗻​​Suguru has broken your trust severely when you realize what he has been doing all along, abusing your trust and ignorance to his own advantage until you made him your most trusted person and told him all of your thoughts. Now you're here, imprisoned and surrounded by jujutsu sorcerers who share his views. You're a lesser being in here for being a non-sorcerer and you know that secretly most of the people here look down on you but only show some level of respect because you're Geto's precious love or whatever he's feeling for you. No one tells you what's really going on but you are smart enough to understand that those people possess very special powers and that something is always watching you even when you're all by yourself. So you never misbehave, aware what would happen otherwise.

🗻​He isn't over the fact that he's fallen in love with what he hates the most even after an abduction so you are sleeping elsewhere. A tiny room with a futon as if to rub your lesser position in your face but truth be told, he's doing this mainly because he secretly wants your warmth next to him at night. He's just trying to reject his desires as he doesn't want to fall too deeply into his infatuation but it's already too late to turn back and perhaps you're more surprised than anyone when one day he tells you you'll share a bed with him from now on. You even vocalize your confusion but shut up when he throws you a sharp glare, silencing you as he himself doesn't want to answer your question. Vocalizing his needs would only make it harder to brush off as something less after all. Geto doesn't want to show too much affection but subconsciously he always fails as his half-awake form always pulls you closer to his body, always desires to feel your warm body safely held against his own as his long hair tickles your neck and face.

Nanami Kento

💛​Here we have a man who is trying to be his most respectful to you after an abduction that he has been planning for a longer time now after a triggering accident, most likely something regarding his very protective feelings. He isn't scolding you for being scared and even lets you insult him all you want with a frightening calm expression on his face, only really stopping you if you try to escape, hurt him or yourself in which case you see his face flashing in anger and slight frustration as you realize how scary he can be if he chooses to be. He gives you space as much as he can but even then his presence is felt throughout your entire new life as you realize that Nanami apparently enjoys taking care of you to the point where he's being controlling with it. There's a certain schedule to your life now, one that he has prepared specifically for you.

💛​This even includes your bedtime as you have to be at a certain hour in bed and get enough sleep and have to get up at a certain time in the morning. Nanami isn't forcing you to share a bed with him though as he graciously prepares another room for you to stay and sleep in. So it's a decision based on consens after your abduction to sleep with him and he's another case of showing his emotions in a very controlled way whilst being deep down just relieved that the worst phrase of the abduction seems to be over now. His sleeping schedule is just as meticulous though so both of you go to the bed at the same time and stand up in the morning at the same time. Nanami is also another candidate who needs a bit longer until he falls asleep because he's also thinking a lot when he lies in bed and only silence surrounds him. He has always an arm wrapped around you but the grip isn't too tight for you to not be able to free yourself if you should ever feel the need to visit the toilet. He is a bit more of a sensitive sleeper though so try to be quiet if you don't want to wake him up.

[girlactionfigure]

Nicholas Winton was a young British stockbroker who rescued 669 Czech Jewish children from being sent to Nazi death camps. He never told anybody of his heroism, and the story only came out 50 years later after his wife found an old briefcase in the attic containing lists of children he’d saved.

Nicholas was a 29 year old clerk at the London stock exchange getting ready for a ski trip to Switzerland when he received an urgent call from his friend Martin Blake. Known to be passionately opposed to Nazism, Martin urged Nicholas to cancel his vacation and come to Prague immediately. He told Nicolas, “I have a most interesting assignment and I need your help. Don’t bother bringing your skis.”

It is a testament to Nicolas’ sterling character and strong moral compass that he didn’t waver for a moment. It was an easy decision to sacrifice his fun and relaxing ski trip and instead travel to a dangerous place on a mysterious mission.

Two months earlier, in October 1938, Nazi Germany had annexed the Sudetenland It was clear that the Nazis would soon occupy all of Czechoslovakia. When he reached Prague, Nicholas was shocked by the huge influx of refugees fleeing from the Nazis. In early November, the Kristallnacht pogrom occurred in Germany and Austria. Jews were killed in the street and hundreds of synagogues burned down, as well as Jewish-owned businesses. This horrifying event shocked the Jewish community in eastern Europe, and thousands were now desperate to flee.

Born to Jewish parents, Nicholas was actually Jewish himself. However, his parents changed their name from Wertheim and converted to Christianity before he was born. Nicholas was baptized and raised as a Christian, and he didn’t consider himself Jewish (although was doubtless aware that Hitler would.)

In Prague, organizations were springing up to help sick and elderly refugees, but Nicholas noticed that nobody was trying to help the children. In his words, “I found out that the children of refugees and other groups of people who were enemies of Hitler weren’t being looked after. I decided to try to get permits to Britain for them. I found out that the conditions which were laid down for bringing in a child were chiefly that you had a family that was willing and able to look after the child, and fifty pounds, which was quite a large sum of money in those days, that was to be deposited at the Home Office. The situation was heartbreaking. Many of the refugees hadn’t the price of a meal. Some of the mothers tried desperately to get money to buy food for themselves and their children. The parents desperately wanted at least to get their children to safety when they couldn’t manage to get visas for the whole family. I began to realize what suffering there is when armies start to march.”

Nicholas knew something had to be done, and he decided to be the one to do it. He later remembered, “Everybody in Prague said, ‘Look, there is no organization in Prague to deal with refugee children, nobody will let the children go on their own, but if you want to have a go, have a go.’ And I think there is nothing that can’t be done if it is fundamentally reasonable.”

Nicholas decided to find homes for the children in the UK, where they would be safe. He set up a command center in his hotel room in Wenceslas Square and his first step was to contact the refugee offices of different national governments and see how many children they could accept. Only two countries agreed to take any Jewish children: Sweden and Great Britain, which pledged to accept all children under age 18 as long as they had homes and fifty pounds to pay for their trip home.

With this green light from Great Britain, Nicholas did everything possible to find homes for the children. He returned to London and did much of the planning from there, which enabled him to continue working at the Stock Exchange and soliciting funds from other bankers to pay for his work with the refugees. Winton needed a large amount of money to pay for transportation costs, foster homes, and many other necessities such as food and medicine.

Nicholas placed ads in newspapers large and small all over Great Britain, as well as in hundreds of church and synagogue newsletters. Knowing he had to play on people’s emotions to convince them to open their home to young strangers who didn’t even speak English, Nicholas printed flyers with pictures of children seeking refuge. He was tireless in his efforts and persuaded an incredible number of heroic Brits to welcome the traumatized young refugees into their homes and hearts.

The office in Wenceslas Square was manned by fellow Brit Trevor Chadwick. Every day terrified parents came in and begged him to find temporary homes for their children. Despite Nicholas’ success in finding places for the kids to stay, British and German government bureaucrats made things difficult, demanding multiple forms and documents. Nicholas said, “Officials at the Home Office worked very slowly with the entry visas. We went to them urgently asking for permits, only to be told languidly, ‘Why rush, old boy? Nothing will happen in Europe.’ This was a few months before the war broke out. So we forged the Home Office entry permits.”

The first transport of children boarded airplanes in Prague which took them to Britain. Nicholas organized an amazing seven more transports, all of them by train, and then boat across the English Channel. The children met their foster families at the train station and Winton took great care in making the matches between children and foster parents.

The children’s transport organized by Nicholas Winton was similar to the later, larger Kindertransport operation, but specifically for Czech Jewish children. Nicholas saved an astounding 669 children on eight transports. Tragically, the largest transport of all was scheduled for September 1, 1939 – but on that day, Hitler invaded Poland and all borders were closed by Germany. Winton was haunted for decades by the remembrance of the 250 children he last saw boarding the train. “Within hours of the announcement, the train disappeared. None of the 250 children aboard was seen again. We had 250 families waiting at Liverpool Street that day in vain. If the train had been a day earlier, it would have come through. Not a single one of those children was heard of again, which is an awful feeling.”

Nicholas joined the British military and spent the rest of the war serving as a pilot in the Royal Air Force, attaining the rank of Flight Lieutenant. After the war, Nicholas worked for the International Refugee Organization in Paris, where he met and married Grete Gjelstrup, a Danish secretary. They moved to Maidenhead, in Great Britain, and had three children. Their youngest child, Robin, had Down Syndrome, and at that time children with the condition were usually sent to institutions. However Nicholas and Grete wouldn’t consider it and instead kept their son at home with the family. Tragically, Robin died of meningitis the day before his sixth birthday. Nicholas was devastated by the loss, and became an active volunteer with Mencap, a charity to help people with Down Syndrome and other developmental delays. He remained involved in Mencap for over fifty years.

Humble – and perhaps traumatized by the children on the train he wasn’t able to save – Nicholas rarely talked about his wartime heroism and his own family didn’t know the details. It was only in 1988 that Nicholas Winton became widely known. His wife found an old notebook of his containing lists of the children he saved. Working with a Holocaust researcher, she tracked down some of the children and located eighty of them still living in Britain. These grown children, some with grandchildren, found out for the first time who had saved them.

The BBC television show called That’s Life! invited Nicholas to the filming an episode that became one of the most emotional clips in TV history. With Nicholas in the audience, the host told his story, including photos and details about some of the children he’d saved. Then the told Nicholas that one of those children was the woman in the seat next to him! They embraced, teary eyed, and the host announced there were more grown children in the audience as well. She asked everybody who owed their life to Nicholas Winton to stand up. The entire audience stood up, as Nicholas sat stunned, wiping away the tears.

After that, Nicholas was showered with honors, including a knighthood for services to humanity. Known as the British Schindler, he met the Queen multiple times and received the Pride of Britain Award for Lifetime Achievement, both for saving refugee children and working with Mencap to improve the lives of people with cognitive differences. There are multiple statues of him in Prague and the UK, and his story was the subject of three films.

Nicholas Winton died in Britain in July 2015, at age 106. Today there are tens of thousands of people who owe their lives to Nicholas Winton.

Accidental Talmudist

[kumkaniudaku]

White Lies

Summary: Terry and Patrice work together to a little white lie.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 4,521

Warnings: Mentions of Pregnancy

Recommended Reading: Caught, Me and Your Mama

MASTERLIST

Something was…off. 

From the moment Patrice and Terry stepped into Marvin and Diedra's freshly renovated two-story home, which was primped and primed with all the luxury finishes one could ask for, Patrice could sense that their carefully crafted plan was in jeopardy. 

Terry's father was far too cheery. Diedra was always high energy, often smiling and hugging to celebrate a cloudless sky or the fresh sprouts of garlic cloves in her window sill garden, but Marvin was more even-keeled. In her teenage years, Patrice often questioned whether he liked her because of the lack of meaningful communication with her until she became a legal Richmond when he acknowledged her as something other than "the Ellis girl" at their wedding reception. In reality, Marvin carried immense respect for his daughter-in-love and regularly sang her praises in private despite carrying an exterior that felt more like casual indifference than familial affection. 

That's how Patrice knew their surprise announcement had been compromised. When Marvin greeted her with a hug so tight around her shoulders that she felt the bone pop from the pressure, her intuition perked up, sending red alerts to every corner of her brain. Still, Patrice kept quiet. No need to throw accusations when she couldn't prove her suspicion. 

Terry knew something was up when Rosalyn called him out of the blue to reiterate that she was excited to see them for dinner an hour before they arrived to share a feast from their collective favorite local soul food spot. Rosalyn rarely called him. If she needed to speak to Terry, she called Patrice and relayed a message through her daughter. If the situation was urgent, she'd send a text as a last-ditch effort. While he loved his mother-in-law dearly, finding himself in a 15-minute conversation about the weather felt strange. He hung up with the nagging feeling she knew more than what she was letting on. But he buried the thought to keep Patrice stress-free and excited about revealing their news to the grandparents-to-be. 

In the dining room, with an Aretha Franklin CD playing softly from Marvin's old standing radio system, the Ellis-Richmond clan conversed around a decorated maplewood dining table featuring all of their favorite Sunday dinner staples. They passed around Diedra's expensive glass bowls full of potato salad and pristine china platters of baked chicken between discussions of matters equally important and frivolous in nature. How was your vacation? Did you hear what so-and-so said about such-and-such? Your cousin is having a baby. Isn't that great?

That revelation made Terry pause as he spooned collard greens into his mouth. He chewed quickly to expedite a response to his mother. "Sure. Gerald has had a lot of kids, though, Mama. Ain't this number five?" 

Five that they knew of at least. 

"I know," Diedra sang after a sip of lemonade, a smile fighting its way past the neutral expression she'd been trying and miserably failing to maintain. "But a baby is a blessing every time. Especially when you're a grandparent getting to love on all those little ones. Sheila calls just to brag about them babies every weekend." 

Patrice rolled her eyes internally when Rosalyn added her two cents as if she didn't already know how her daughter felt about having a child one day. 

The older woman adjusted her black-rimmed glasses on her nose and hummed to signal her agreeance. "You know you get to treat your grandbabies different. Get 'em all hyped up on sugar and toys so they can go back home and be out of your hair until next time." 

"That's exactly what I plan on doin'," Leon laughed, the sound booming throughout the room. "Have fun with Pop-Pop, then go right on back to your mama 'nem." 

Terry tried to ease the annoyance emanating from Patrice's bouncing leg with a short chuckle and a soothing rub on her denim-covered knee under the table until she slowed to a halt. "If this is y'all's way of asking when we'll have children, I feel like I gotta remind everybody we just got married. Can't we enjoy some time alone for a little while? We haven't really dated, you know." 

"And I have shared my very detailed five year plan for us, which does not include trying for a baby until year three. Please, let's not rush my well-thought-out process, people!" 

Part of what Patrice said was true. Her laptop had a detailed five-year plan tucked neatly inside a folder labeled "Crack In Case I Marry That Man." She shared it with her mother a few weeks before Terry's surprise proposal, and there was a multi-page section on when and how they'd prep for parenthood after exactly three years of marriage. It was all there in 12-point Times New Roman and adequately disseminated to all interested parties to reference when the timeline called for them to reconvene. 

The lie was that they were still following said plan to the letter. 

Their parents exchanged knowing looks they assumed their children wouldn't understand. Terry and Patrice let them live in their bubble without calling attention to the many side eyes and allusions to pregnancy by frequently changing the subject but always ending right back at the starting line. 

Forks scraping against bright white porcelain signaled the end of their main course, just as an attempt to steer the conversation toward sports proved successful. 

Marvin waived his arms in a spirited attempt to direct Terry and Leon's attention toward an invisible clipboard of surefire inbounds plays for the Charlotte Hornets after another regular season loss. "See, this is why they didn't win the other day. The damn coach don't know what he doin'," he rambled without interruption. "Why the hell is Bridges inboundin' the ball with five seconds left? He oughta be in the paint waiting for the lob!" 

"Probably a decoy, Pop. Get 'em to inbound, then he cuts to the basket. They just botched the play because they're a bad team. Which you know. I'm not sure why you keep devoting your time to them." 

Marvin scoffed, miffed by the insinuation that his perpetually bottom-of-the-barrel team was ill-equipped to win. "Boy, I used to take you to Hornets games all the time." 

"I know. And they were bad then. Why do you think the tickets were so cheap," Terry laughed.

Terry's father shooed him away with a grin that slowly turned into a laugh, joining the small chorus around the room. "Yeah, well, at least they're exciting and bad this go 'round," Marvin countered before leaning back in his chair, full from the feast. "Better to watch LaMelo Ball get 50 in a blowout than sit through 48 minutes of Keith Bogans." 

"Hey, now. I had a Keith Bogans jersey!" 

"Because it was cheap," Marvin winked. 

More laughter filled the room, easily replacing the awkward tension marring their earlier interactions. Dinner was supposed to be fun and light-hearted to usher in big news for the year ahead. If conversations about the bleak future of their shared NBA team could offer a distraction, Terry and Patrice would watch every 40-point loss with glee.

Patrice cleaned the corners of her mouth and tossed her napkin on top of her clean plate in surrender to the indulgent meal. "I think some of my students are gonna sing Lift Every Voice at a game during Black History Month. We could go as a family. It'd be our first little mixed outing."

"You sure you'll feel up to it?" 

Chatter stopped. Terry swore he heard Aretha gasp before the final track faded into silence. The air in the room felt stagnant as if it were also holding its breath in anticipation of the fallout. Patrice blinked twice as her head tilted to one side in the confused look she sported right before she picked her victim apart for answers. It was the calm before an ugly storm.

Rosalyn wished she could've put the words back in her mouth and swallowed them whole so they'd never come forth again. The question was meant for her internal dialogue and a side conversation with her good friend and gossip partner, not the group discussion. 

She waited with the rest of the crew, breath drawn into tight lungs, praying that her daughter hadn't caught her innuendo. 

Patrice smiled a tight-lipped smile, the expression looking more like a grimace than an indicator of true happiness. "Why wouldn't I be up to it?" 

"Somethin' goin' on that day, Mrs. Ros?" When Terry said his vows, the part left in the margins was the commitment to join his wife in conflict, even if his parents were on the other side. They'd sort through the details later. And, honestly, he enjoyed a sprinkling of mess every once in a while.

Rosalyn released a cool titter to erase the lines creasing her forehead in worry. "I figured it'd be in the middle of the week. You know how P gets about her babies." Another slip to make Patrice's ears perk in curiosity. Leon wiped a large palm across his face to muffle a quiet groan. Diedra pretended to pick at sweet potatoes she had no intention to eat. Marvin nearly choked on a heavy gulp of water he didn't need. Rosalyn tripped over her words to clear up her mistake again. "She loves her students! Whew, is it warm in here, or am I having one of my personal summers?" 

"It is a little warm. Must be that oven," Diedra rushed to confirm. "Mo, can you turn the oven off? I'm sure the cobbler is done by now." 

"Leon and Ros, y'all ain't had my peach cobbler yet. Make sure you loosen up your belts and make some room by the time I get back." Marvin's deep baritone reverberating in uneasy laughter did little to lighten the mood. Everyone was in deep shit. 

An unholy mishmash of utensils clanging and plates stacking interrupted Leon's response as Patrice scrambled to collect dishes before Marvin could push away from the table. "We'll grab it!" she blurted while tugging Terry to his feet hard enough to make him force down a cube of ice he wasn't ready to swallow. "Come on, TJ. I need your help." 

"Shit," Terry hissed, rubbing his aching throat. "I'm comin', girl. Slow down."

Curses and grumbles about being far too rough with a pinch to the underside of his upper arm followed Terry and Patrice out of the dining room and into the sweltering kitchen across the narrow hallway. 

Patrice chucked spoons and forks into the dirty side of Dee Dee's farmhouse sink before reaching the counter and gripping for dear life with both hands, her arms shaking in rapidly rising fury.

"Rinse the dishes with me and turn your back," Patrice instructed the moment they were safely out of earshot. She waited impatiently for Terry to drag his feet toward the kitchen sink, already exhausted and ready to rip the bandaid off the whole ordeal if it meant he could get back home enough time to fall asleep on the couch with Troy Aikman commentating in the background. 

He sighed like he'd worked a full day's shift and reluctantly placed one of his mother's fancy ramekins under a steady stream of warm water. 

After Terry's long, lip-flapping huff, he and Patrice spoke at the same time. "They know." 

The pressing, the slips of the tongue, the looks across the table like there was a joke Terry and Patrice weren't in on – they knew. But when? And for how long? 

"Did you tell your sisters?" 

"No, I didn't tell my sisters. I know how to keep a secret." Terry answered, taking exception to the insinuation that he would be the one to blab despite their ironclad pact. 

Patrice kissed her teeth. "Oh, whatever. I asked you not to tell Robert Mitchell what I said about the senior formal, and not only did you tell, you punched him in the mouth!" 

"I did not tell him what you said. I punched him in the mouth first, then went to class. No words were exchanged." 

"You are a liar, Terrence James, but that is not the point." Patrice whisper-yelled as laughter swelled from the other room. "Think. Have your parents said anything weird since we got back?" 

Terry directed his eyes to the ceiling to rewind through the previous two weeks but came up empty save for an insignificant conversation the morning they got in from D.C. "My mom did ask if you felt okay. Something about not being able to smell like you used to." 

"I never told her that. The only person who knew I was having trouble with certain smells was –" 

"Your mom. When she called on Christmas Eve." 

Like the missing piece to a puzzle, an innocuous conversation unlocked the key to their Scooby-Doo mystery. The mention of cinnamon and its all-out assault on Patrice's senses must've been the first domino to fall. That's why her mother rushed off the phone when they'd typically spend no less than an additional 15 minutes pretending to hang up while sparking insignificant nuggets of conversation until someone broke the seal. That's why Terry received a call from his mother asking if Patrice was feeling sick. And that's why, despite supposedly being entirely in the dark about the reason for their first-ever Sunday dinner as a family, none of the older adults in the room could stop themselves from talking about babies and parenting. 

As the realization that their surprise was ruined long before it could take shape, fresh, hot tears began to cascade down Patrice's cheeks. Terry sprang into action, shutting off the water to softly catch the evidence of his wife's inner turmoil on his index finger's knuckle. "It's alright, baby. Come here." 

Faint cries joined shaking shoulders as Terry pulled Patrice into his chest by her elbow before peppering kisses at her crown. Her arms encircled his waist, squeezing tight while he ran his hands up and down the back of her oversized sweatshirt to soothe her second emotional outburst of the day. "Talk to me. What's the matter?" 

"It's all fucked up," Patrice heaved before muffling a short sob against Terry's body. "I want to go home. Fuck today! I don't care anymore!"

Assuming the role of reliable comforter didn't deter Terry from smiling down at Patrice with a plan that made his eyes twinkle like an excited child. "That's no fun, sailor," he cooed into her hairline before a quick kiss. "I planned to make this worthwhile, and I need those acting skills I love so much." 

"What's the plan?" Patrice sniffed as she looked up at her knight in shining armor to wait for his day-saving plan.

"Terrence James is a liar, remember?" Embers of mischief animated thick eyebrows wiggling on Terry's forehead, leaving Patrice silently begging for more context. He kissed her nose and held his lips in place to keep their plan confined to their bubble of solitude. "We're gonna lie, and I need you to follow my lead."

"You have to tell me something! Don't leave me in the dark."

Clamoring in the other room snapped their attention toward their parents, who were still waiting for the sweet treat they'd been promised. 

"What's goin' on in there?" 

"My sugar dropping, now! Stop all that kissin' and bring the cobbler before I pass out." 

"And make sure you wash your hands!" 

Minutes were dwindling into precious seconds, which required more spooning cold ice cream on top of warm dessert neatly packed into bowls for a room full of antsy elders. 

Terry quickly started an assembly line, with Patrice falling in line but still pressing for answers. He carefully pulled vanilla ice cream from the ice box, procured his Mama's good scoop, and hummed while he worked like the world around him hadn't capsized into chaos. That didn't stop Patrice from pestering him incessantly until he turned to briefly kiss her forehead in the process of preparing worthwhile servings. 

"Have I ever steered you wrong?" When she opened her mouth for a rebuttal, Terry cut her off with a rough finger on her pouty lips. "Don't answer that. What I'm saying is trust me. I got the three of us at all times. What I need from you, gorgeous, is to give me that winning smile, put some sweetness in your voice, and…" Terry held his final word as he plopped hefty round dollops of sweet vanilla ice cream onto three servings of cobbler then carefully balanced them on a serving tray with the needed utensils. "Follow my lead." 

"How will I know what to say, Terry?" 

Terry tapped her nose and gently pushed her toward the room's threshold before gathering three additional bowls in his hands. He winked as he walked past her. "Takes a liar to know a liar. Come on."

Patrice didn't refer to her truth stretching as lying. She preferred to view it as world-building, taking a page from her lesson plans to explore weaving exciting narratives together for entertainment's sake. And, sure, she was the only one who would derive any pleasure from falling into her elaborate storytelling, but so what? Plus, that part of her life was long gone. She was rusty, unprepared, and dreaded having to be the supporting actress to a leading man she hadn't seen in action since they were teenagers. 

A deep exhale helped Patrice's still racing thoughts and put on a believably happy face in enough time to shuffle behind Terry into the dining room. 

"Who wants cobbler?" Her chirping sounded too eager for someone who was shaking from rage moments earlier, but she was committed to the bit. It was too late to turn back. 

Various answers in the affirmative provided enough of a distraction for Terry to shoot Patrice a warning look. Calm down. His eyes said it all, and Patrice didn't need a second eyebrow raise to get the memo. 

They took their seats side by side, allowing their parents a few moments of unwitting happiness before Terry began his charade. 

"So…we have some news. We thought about calling on New Year's Eve but figured this was something better shared in person." Like children anticipating the arrival of Santa Claus by Christmas morning, Terry and Patrice's parents practically jumped from their seats to hear what they already knew. Chairs scraped against the polished hardwood to get closer to the table. Eating stopped. Bodies leaned forward in suspense. Terry had their attention in the palm of his hand left hand while he placed the palm of his right hand on Patrice's thigh to keep up the facade. 

"We're…moving." 

The words didn't quite register to anyone but Patrice as she sat there fighting to keep her eyes from squinting in uncontrollable laughter. Moving? Of all things, moving was Terry's grand plan to catch their parents off guard. But, as she watched the light of expectation slowly turn into confusion, she made a mental note to give her man his props. He'd successfully thrown a cartoonishly large wrench into their assumptions. 

Diedra cleared her throat and smoothed a hand over her auburn pixie cut. "I'm sorry, James, can you say that again? You two are –" 

"Moving," Terry reiterated plainly. "When we were in DC, we talked about finally getting out of here and startin' somewhere fresh, right, baby?" 

Patrice chimed in. "I disagreed with Terrence at first, but he convinced me. How amazing would it be to explore a new city together? And the DMV is perfect. There's government work for him…" 

"And teaching work for P. We'd live in the suburbs, so y'all wouldn't have to deal with the city noise when you visit. It's perfect." 

If they were ever asked to rate their improv for the afternoon, both Terry and Patrice would mark their performance at a solid seven and a half. There was room for improvement, but, dammit, they were a worthwhile team. Terry gave Patrice an appreciative squeeze, and she expertly played the role of sweet, innocent wife by wrapping her arms around his bicep while they waited for the shock on Rosalyn's face to transition into the only version of happiness she could muster. 

Patrice watched her mother's lips purse in a tight smile until she found enough wherewithal to respond kindly. "That's great, but what's so wrong with Fayetville? Don't you two want to be around your Mama and daddy?" 

"Exactly," Marvin chimed in. "Why now? What's there that you can't get here?" 

Perfect. Terry couldn't have concocted a more perfect scheme if he was given weeks to prepare. The spontaneity of it all made for air so thick that he could've cut into it and served a slice alongside his daddy's famous cobbler. 

Terry looked over at Patrice to defer, preferring to let her flex her strongest muscle. She seamlessly took on both questions without faltering. "New opportunities," Patrice exclaimed as if the answer was as clear as a summer day. "Fayetteville has been good to us, but imagine how we'll grow together in a new city. We love y'all dearly, but it's time for us to spread our wings as a couple. You understand, right, Daddy?" 

"Not really, baby girl." Leon shook his head in silent disbelief as he wrung his hands together. "Can't say I'm ready for you to leave yet. Feels like I just got you back from A&T, and here you are all grown up and trying to leave again." 

Crestfallen silence blanketed the room. In all her years, Patrice had only seen her father look so forlorn one other time. They'd just finished unpacking her freshman dorm. Once the sobering realization that he was leaving his only daughter behind to tackle new horizons, sadness overtook him faster than he could wish it away. Patrice could see him reliving that afternoon and so many more as he pushed bits of crust and peach chunks around in his bowl for a distraction.

"We'll miss y'all," Terry answered, still holding on to the lie for a few moments longer, hoping his mother would cave to set up their grand finale. Diedra tried to remain cheerful in the face of heartbreaking news. 

She clasped her hands together and smiled wide. "Well, I think that is incredible news! You know, I have a realtor friend out there who is still selling houses. Let me go in my purse and grab her card. We'll get you two set up with a down payment, make sure we coordinate a moving plan and tour with you to make sure you're getting the best available, and oh, it'll be wonderful! Let me go and grab my purse!" 

Mission accomplished. DeeDee had cracked like an egg, still trying to contain the runny yolk of suppressed feelings while the remains ran through her fingers and made a mess. 

"Mama," Terry called out. The show was over. Curtail closed. Time for the big reveal. When Diedra didn't stop rambling, Terry dialed up the volume. "Mom!" Dee Dee stopped in her tracks. Terry released an easy chuckle. "Sit down. We have one more thing to tell you." 

"Oh, hell. No more bad news, boy. It better be something worth hearing." 

Marvin's exasperation drew stilted laughter from Terry, and then Patrice, who joined him with her eyes closed and tears leaking from the corners of her eyes. A shared, all-out cackle they couldn't contain any longer helped further confuse the four sets of eyes looking back at them. 

Patrice tried to calm down with a deep breath, but a look at Terry's smiling face sent her back to the top of her guffaw. "Oh my goodness! I can't breathe. Baby, help!" 

"I can't stop until you stop!" They tried again several times over, waiting for the other to calm down until they could force the truth out between giggles. Terry wiped at his waterline, then chuckled through an answer. "We're not moving, y'all. It's all a joke." 

Rosalyn blinked back her bewilderment. "I don't get it." 

"That's not the news. We had to get y'all back for thinking you could know that we're our business before we knew our business and then laugh without us. How rude!" 

"So it's true," Diedra questioned, eye beginning to buck with newfound hope. "Are you…"

Patrice nodded and leaned into an already beaming Terry. "It is. You're gonna be a grandma alongside that lady over there," she confirmed, pointing at Rosalyn. 

"And y'all are going to be granddads. Or Pop-Pops. Whichever you prefer." 

Terry's additional barely registered over the sounds of hands slapping together in excited hi-fives and high-pitched squeals full of the kind of love only a baby boomer with dreams of cradling children born from their children could exude. 

Leon raised his hands to give the Lord a high-spirited thanks once he saw Patrice's grainy sonogram, which made the news all the more real. A grandchild was on the way, and not from his knucklehead of a son like he'd imagined—not yet. 

Marvin rushed in and out of the room, returning with a black and Carolina blue onesie filling once empty hands. Terry looked on in shock. Where had his father been hiding that? 

Rosalyn and Diedra immediately jumped into visions of floral arrangements for a garden party baby shower and talked about how their children could avoid childcare costs with both nearing retirement. 

The youngest Richmond couple found themselves ushered out of chairs and forced into a group hug, surrounded by unconditional love and bubbling excitement to meet a person still developing lungs. 

Patrice struggled to speak against their embrace. "I take it y'all are excited." 

"Over the moon, little girl." Rosalyn gushed. "The babies are havin' a baby. You're all grown up! Congratulations!" 

Terry used a little wiggle room to return his mother-in-law's excitement with a rub against her arm. "Thank you, Ms. Ros. We appreciate y'a– ouch! Mom! Let go!" 

With her pointer finger and thumb, Diedra tugged and twisted a new spot on Terry's inner arm as punishment for his earlier antics. She let go with another harsh pull before smacking his arm for good measure. "You might be grown, but not that grown. Don't play with me, boy!" 

"And don't think I forgot about you, Patrice Nicole!" 

"Sorry, Mama. It was Terry's idea!" 

Though things were changing, some remained the same. No matter how much Terry and Patrice grew and prepared to take on the responsibility of ushering their own child through the world, Terry and Patrice would never escape their parent's love or discipline.

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