#they both had a rough season and somehow made the best of it

[pressedstresseddepressed]

round of applause for esteban ocon who, despite having SEVEN (7) dnfs, finished only 4 points behind his teammate in the wdc standings

[bunnyinvanilla]

…dbf!john that has to take care of her while her dads on a business trip?

you were enthusiastic at the idea of finally being able to spend some quiet time home all alone with no yelling from your dad, no loud voices, just peace. but evidently he had different plans for you.

“oh,” you stopped mid walk right in the middle of the stairs, a sudden rush of warmth spreading over your chest and cheeks at the sight of john in your living room, manspreading on the couch “what are you doing here sir?”

john raised both brows in amusement, you were his favorite sight, so sweet and delicate, young and forbidden, “yer dad asked me to take care of y’a while he’s away, doll”

“but i don’t need it, i can be left alone,” you replied hesitantly, walking down the last stairs. your eagerness from earlier was now replaced with your signature shyness and bashfulness, just like every time you were around him — butterflies filled your stomach and you couldn’t even master coherent sentences or thoughts, you excelled in college but turned out a blubbering and stammering mess with this man.

“know you do, angel,” he said, his gruffness somehow softening when talking to you, “just doing my mate’s a favor”

maybe your dad didn’t know it, but he was doing you a favor by letting his best friend stay over. ”alright, sir,” you shrugged softly, and john’s pants almost stiffened—so obedient, so docile all the time. you were such a good girl.

“it’ll fell as if I’m not even home most of the time,” you blushed, feeling out of space in your own house, a squirming bunny underneath his attentive gaze, too warm and sharp to handle

“b’have as if i wasn’t even here, princess, just here to keep an eye on you if somethin’ happens.”

and oh, it felt so torturous, the forced proximity with the man of your dreams, the one out of your league, the only one you wanted. a real man, john was, so old and strong, buff and stern, giving you a sense of protection and control you longed for. you yearned for a sense of security and dominance that only john could give you. if you were the romance, he was the discipline.

dadsbf!john price was such a provider, a caregiver, he took care of everything in the house, made sure to turn on the stove for you when you wanted to make something, he didn’t let you touch any knives, made you breakfast in the morning, brought your fresh ice cream or strawberries when you were reading or studying in your room. but the tension between the two of you was tangible, it frizzled the air anytime you accidentally brushed your hands together or walked next each other — your father’s best friend, too much older than you, in his late 40s, and a sweet, little girl who was barely 21.

he tried so hard to be responsible, the be a military man, a seasoned captain who knew how to resist temptation. but you weren’t a temptation, because temptations could be bad — no, you were sugar, honey. sweet and tender at the touch, to taste, to feed off to. sweet for the soul and healthy for the body, as the bible would say.

but it was even harder for him, to restrain himself, knowing how much you wanted him, you looked at him with the most innocent eyes, batting your lashes at him like a lost puppy, a bunny that wanted to be picked up and cuddled, and thrown over his shoulder and taken care of by a rough, old man.

you always walked around the house in those tiny, mini skirts that hugged your ass, thigh highs that made him want to bite down on his fist, and that innocent bunny demeanor that made him loose his cool — bending over the kitchen counter when you made yourself some strawberry milk, giving him a perfect view of you bottom, or getting on your tip toes to reach for the highest shelves, softly calling him with a “sir? need your help please”

dadsbf!john price who had you sitting on his lap at night, on the couch, reading your lovely book, while he was watching tv, one of his usual movies about missions, shootings and undercover agents. you were all curled up against him, squirming and shifting position every once in a while — john was a patient man, but your cute butt kept pressing against his crotch when you moved, and he had to clench his jaw restrain himself from groaning.

“you uncomfortable, love?”

you only shook your head, lowering the book, revealing your flushed, red blushing face. “sorry sir, ‘s just a fuzzy feeling, it tickles” poor girl you didn’t know what was going on :( how to make this feeling in your belly stop.

“mmh? feel fuzzy, doll?”

and oh, he knew how to make you feel better. he gently grabbed both your hips with his large hands, positioning you between his spread legs, back pressed against his chest — you inhaled, your breath caught in your throat as you felt his rough, calloused hands parting your legs, spreading them for him.

dadsbf!john price who talked you through it, teaching you about everything you didn’t know about yourself, you’d never tried. his thick fingers pressed lazy circles around your clothed clit, his thick beard pressed against your cheek as he spoke with a deep, rough voice.

“this right here…if i touch you here, it’ll feel very good doll. can touch slowly, lightly to let the sensation linger, play with it,”

your breath was ragged, you were nervous, felt exposed, only your oversized cute shirt covering you, those unfamiliar sensations making your head dizzy. you looked down, whimpering when his middle finger and index traced circles over your clit, against your panties, but he quickly reassured you when you mewled, cooing at you and using his free hand to lift your chin.

“shh, shh, eyes up, doll, i’ve got you, princess, look at me,”

you did. he wanted to introduce you to the feeling first, slowly teaching you how to get used to these things. he pressed a kiss on the corner of you mouth, and you whined against him.

“..and if daddy rubs harder, fast, you’ll feel warm inside, on your belly, like this, on your petal,”

“oh- oh gosh—“ you squirmed, biting your bottom lip, a sudden wave of pleasure shot through your legs when, and you involuntarily attempted to close them, but he quickly moved his hand to part them, spreading them wider.

“I know love, I know, feels good little one, easy, easy now, wan’ daddy to stop?”

“nu-uh, please” you could only shake your head, too shy and caught up in the sensation, your cheeks were as red and warm as bright flames and ripe strawberries, blushing fiercely — it felt so good, yet you were so embarrassed you couldn’t even look at him.

“that’s it, bunny, spread them for daddy, good girl, could spend all week like this until your pa’ comes back,” his rich, gruff chuckle vibrated against your back, and you felt your tummy coil at his words — with a twist of his wrist, his hand disappeared underneath your cotton panties, and you flinched on his lap, squirming when his bare fingers started caressing your clit.

dadsbf!john price who taught you how to kiss, pushing his tongue against yours, licking off your lipgloss, chuckling when you needed to breath, before devouring your mouth again, starving, hungry — your arms around his neck like your life depended on it.

dadsbf!john price who would tuck you to bed and hand you your favorite plushie before going to sleep in your father’s empty room,

“can sleep with you if you dont wanna be alone, sir”

“oh doll, as much as i’d love you to, don’t think either of us will get any sleep if you get in bed with me, and that can’t happen, love,”

dadsbf!john price who made sure to not smoke around you, especially inside the house. he’d get to the back patio or front porch to indulge in one of his strong scented, thick cigars. a soft angel like you can’t fill her lungs with such venom.

dadsbf!john price who grinned smugly whenever your dad called him to know how you were doing. he pressed his phone against his ear, hiding his cocky grin underneath his thick beard and mustache.

“doing fine, pal. reads her books, takes her dog out, studies, goes to church. usual things.”

he didn’t tell him how you were kneeling in front of him on the couch, your knees pressed against a plush pillow to not hurt your legs, doe eyes looking at him expectingly, waiting for him to end the call to teach you how to make him feel good with your mouth — his free hand rubbed against your warm cheek, playing with your long hair.

and when he ended the call, he bucked his hips, manspreading, giving you a look that could be both tender and intense, sharp and commanding.

“what did he say, sir?”

“nothing much, princess. misses you,”

you smiled at that. you had daddy issues, didn’t matter how much your dad truly loved you, and he did, he was just incapable of showing it. he didn’t know how to. always moody, serious, yelling at any given moment. you needed a real old man that could love you and treat you like the most delicate and precious girl. you wanted john to do it.

john loved seeing you smile, he couldn’t tell you that he’d made it up, added that last part about the call, just to see you smile, even though your dad hadn’t actually said that.

john was alone, practically married to his job, literally, with much more experience with women you could ever imagine — until God pitied him and decided to send him a little expiatory angel, you.

“aight’, doll, wan’ daddy to show you how to take him with your mouth like a good girl?”

you nodded, hesitantly. your shyness and timidity always had the best of you. but he wanted to take his time with you, protect your sweet purity.

“use your words, love. speak up for daddy, come on”

you blushed and fidgeted with your hands, batting your lashes at him “yes sir,”

“good girl, angel. buttons.” single, short words, speaking with military authority.

you opened his pants with shaky hands, nervously. but he firmly cupped your chin, tilting your jaw up.

“no need to be scared, love, look at you…nervous, are you sweet?” he cooed condescendingly at you, making your bite your lip and nod, puppy eyes big and round.

“just open your mouth and be still. daddy’s gonna help you, if it gets too much for ya, tap my knee. copy that, bunny?”

“yes daddy, mkay” you gave him a little nod, almost shivering at the way his thumb brushed against your bottom lip.

“show daddy your tongue, that’s it. here it is, fuck, gonna be rough with ya, angel, could eat you up, love. good doll, now, zipper down.”

[beuxwhoyouare]

Escaping Holiday Responsibilities

You know Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and all the boys. And who can forget about singing Hanerot Halalu after lighting the menorah. There’s symbols and entities representing all of the holidays. But outside of the season we enjoy our peace and quiet. Sometimes though a season is so rough you can’t really blame an entity for wanting to get away.

I may or may not be Santa Claus. I’d say the best perk about the gig is that when the time comes you’re almost guided to your successor who then dons the classic look. So it’s a give and take. I mean having the power to fulfill lists of gifts you desire is great, but acquiring the look of a tubby bearded old man isn’t all that. The coolest thing though is you may not know it, but just because you don’t write a list doesn’t mean you don’t have holiday desires. I can still deliver gifts based on the list you make in your hearts. Cute as hell right? I’m basically a mind reader!

Before all this Claus business, I was unemployed and recently divorced when I received the call to step into the good ol boots. So a gig is a gig. I took it and ran, but that was like 30 years ago. So now once I retire I’m actually gonna look old and ragged.

So there I was last night delivering gifts at this random place in Chicago. Doing my best to stay quiet, delivering gifts as low key as possible when CRAAAAAACK! I stepped on a large glass ornament I somehow missed. I thought I was in the clear after no one came to check what happened and as I headed on my way out a baseball bat swung at my head.

I took the hit like a champ but when I turned around to see I saw a man standing there in black sweatpants and a sleeveless shirt with the bat ready to swing again.

“Ho ho hey hey wait. I’m literally Santa.” I whisper yelled while showing snowy crystals come out of my glove.

Right as he began to swing again I pulled more tricks out of my hat.

“I know your name is Russell O’Connor. You got a gunmetal tricycle as a 4 year old because you thought the red ones the store had were tacky and wanted to look tough!”

That’s when he stopped mid-swing.

“How-how did you know that pervert? Have you been watching me for years?”

I began to hear his inner list….a young man now in his mid-20s regretting his life decisions to get a girl knocked up as a teen? Interesting. He desires to get away from the so-called mess he made.

“I can offer you a way out of the mess you made. If that’s what your true hearts wish is this Christmas?!” I pleaded to not be beaten once again.

“How do you know what I want freak?”

“Bro I’m Santa, I know when you’ve been like bad or good and whatever. Listen do you want to get away from the mess you made or what?”

“Yes okay but like how are you going to do it? You’re not going to kill me or anything?”

“Honestly no one’s really ever wished for this so I gotta be able to do it somehow. That’s the Santa magic!”

“Okay let’s go for it. Do it! Get me out of here!”

I closed my eyes and rubbed my gloved hands together and then pulled them apart. As I pulled them apart a spark started forming but I wasn’t sure what to do with it. I tried to hold it steady but before I knew it, the spark grew too wild to control. The energy then turned white and exploded.

There was a ringing and we both yelled but then black.

When I woke up I found myself pushing up from a bed? That’s weird I don’t remember finishing all my deliveries. I reached up to scratch my beard but instead of my long luscious white beard a more close shaved beard grazed my hand. Wait where are my gloves? And my beard?

I looked down at the bed I didn’t recognize before looking back up to walk over to a nearby restroom with the night light on. The dim glow painted a picture I couldn’t believe. Surely I’m dreaming?

I fumbled around the foreign room before locating the light switch, only to have the bright lights confirm what I was seeing. I raised both arms and posed….

“No fucking way!?” The cursing surprised me, being a Claus the job prevents your mouth from ever even forming a curse word.

I’m Russell? But the Santa step down process just returns you to your normal self not swaps you with someone? How did this? Could my desires have matched with his conflicting my magics intent?

I lifted the shirt barely hiding anything of my new body I now resided in. Woah…I wasn’t much of a gym person in my former life but maybe there’s reason to be. I mean look at this beef? I reached my muscular hand up to my new proud chest and squeezed. Ahhh grazing my new nipple I revealed a new found sensitivity I never previously had. Looks like that’s going to be fun, I nearly salivated.

I can do adult things again and live a life again! No more having to spend months working to achieve someone else’s dreams. Or maybe I’ll fulfill other dirtiest dreams. I mean this body should go to work somehow.

I’m sure OnlyFans would love to see how thick I am everywhere. It’s time to be a family man settle down the right way and make a good living by selling the best gift I’ve ever given myself.

My new tool hardening nearly pulling down my sweatpants waistband itself. I grabbed it before taking a peak at my new equipment. Ohhhhh looks like I’ll still be delivering gifts to quite a few people in different ways with this beer can.

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Their little sunshine p.1

Heyy guys, I hope you enjoy this Alex x reader x Lily, I have planned more parts for this story so I hope you enjoy it :)

If you want to read more stories of mine here's my masterlist.

The first time Alex Albon met his new physio, he nearly did a double take.

The Williams garage wasn’t exactly the most colorful place—navy blues, whites, and the occasional streak of sponsor red dominated the scene. But she stood out like a soft splash of pink against it all. It wasn’t just her outfit, though her pastel compression top and perfectly coordinated sneakers were a stark contrast to the usual sports gear around. It was the way she carried herself—bubbly, warm, and utterly radiant.

"Alex!" she beamed, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet as he approached. "I’ve been waiting to get my hands on you—well, not like that, obviously, but you know what I mean!"

Alex chuckled, a little taken aback by the sheer enthusiasm radiating from her. "I think so?"

She grinned, unfazed. "Don’t worry, you’ll love our sessions. I promise I’ll take the best care of you!"

He wasn’t sure what to expect, but as soon as they started, he realized she wasn’t just all sunshine and chatter—she was good. Her hands were gentle yet firm, her instructions clear but never harsh. And more than anything, there was something about her presence that made it easy to relax.

For the first time in a while, physio sessions didn’t feel like just another part of the job. They felt… comfortable.

It didn’t take long for Alex to start looking forward to their sessions. She had this way of making even the most mundane exercises fun—humming pop songs under her breath, sticking tiny smiley face stickers on his water bottle when she thought he wasn’t hydrating enough, or dramatically gasping when she found a particularly tight knot in his shoulders.

"You’re so tense, Alex!" she scolded one day, hands pressing firmly into his back. "It’s like you’re storing all the stress of the paddock in here."

"Maybe I am," he joked, eyes fluttering shut as her thumbs worked out a particularly stubborn knot. "You’re a miracle worker, though."

She preened at the compliment. "I am pretty great, huh?"

Even Carlos, ever the skeptic, eventually gave in.

"You’re actually magic," he muttered one day, rolling his shoulder after a session. "I don’t know what you did, but I feel like I just slept for a week."

She beamed. "Told you I’d take care of you!"

For Alex, though, it wasn’t just the skill—it was her. She was the kind of person who lit up every room she walked into, and as the season dragged on, with its relentless travel and stress, she became a safe space.

One particularly rough weekend, after a frustrating qualifying session, Alex found himself in the physio room earlier than usual. She glanced up from where she was organizing massage oils, instantly noticing the tension in his posture.

"Tough one?" she asked gently.

Alex exhaled. "Yeah."

She didn’t push him to talk about it, didn’t try to force positivity onto him. Instead, she simply patted the massage table. "C’mon, lie down. Let’s get some of that stress out of your system."

As her hands worked through the knots in his shoulders, he felt himself slowly relax.

"You know," she mused, voice light but comforting, "you’re allowed to have bad days, Alex."

He hummed, eyes closed. "I know."

"Good," she said simply. And somehow, it was exactly what he needed to hear.

It wasn’t until a few races into the season that Alex finally introduced her to Lily.

"You have to meet my girlfriend," he told her one afternoon, stretching out on the massage table as she worked on his legs. "I swear, you two would get along so well."

She blinked. "Wait, what?"

"Lily," he clarified, sitting up from the massage table. "You two would get along so well."

Her lips curled into a smile. "That’s a bold claim."

"I’m serious!" Alex insisted. "You’re both, like… nice. And you make people feel comfortable. And you have this whole cute aesthetic thing going on."

She giggled. "Are you calling me cute, Albon?"

He rolled his eyes. "Just meet her, okay?"

The opportunity came during the Monaco race weekend. After a long, exhausting day in the paddock, Alex invited her to dinner with him and Lily.

She arrived in a soft pink sundress, her hair tied up with a matching ribbon. And the moment she stepped into the restaurant, she was met with a bright, familiar grin.

"Oh my God, you’re adorable!"

The greeting came from none other than Lily. He, stood up from his seat to introduce you to each other but before he could even respond, you had already reached out to hug her.

"You’re so pretty!" you gushed.

"You’re so pretty!" she shot back, already feeling like they had known each other for years.

Alex, watching them with an amused smile, shook his head. "I knew this would happen."

It was instant. Over dinner, they fell into an easy rhythm—talking about everything from skincare to travel to their shared love for making fun of Alex.

"So, how’s he as a physio client?" Lily asked, smirking slightly.

"Oh, such a baby when it comes to deep tissue massages," she teased, making Alex groan.

Lily laughed. "That checks out."

By the end of the night, they had already exchanged numbers, planning a shopping trip for the next free weekend.

And just like that, she wasn’t just Alex’s physio anymore—she was part of their little circle.

A ray of sunshine that fit right in.

Part 2

[ijwrsmff]

Hey, i hope ur having a good dayy...heard yu wanted some yandere arcane asks...how about vi(romantic) with a naïve piltover darling (generally soft and clumsy as well) fem reader please!!💖💕

Thank you so much that's so sweet!!! I'm getting to requests really late, but I'm doing my best XD thank you for requesting and your patience! Even though it's really late, I hope you enjoy ^^

Soooo glad the second season is coming out soon, I crave it so bad XD

Words: 1,642

Vi was in Piltover, doing what she joked was a small heist. It was just her this time, Vander having cracked down on them all not returning to top side in fear of their safety. She made sure Powder was safe first, and left her in the boy’s care. She had received word there was an event going on, a series of stalls and shops along the road. It was the perfect opportunity to blend in and steal from all the rich assholes who could buy out the whole street if they wanted to. 

…That was her plan anyway. 

It started off simple enough, showing up right in the middle of the day when it was the most busy. She paid close attention to the people who looked like they had more money than others…and with how idiotic people could be, it wasn’t hard to tell who could afford the most. Starting off, she took small items they had purchased that she thought could go for more underground. She didn’t expect to be bumped into as a girl fell to the ground. 

As it were, you only wanted to go to see what the shops had to offer. You weren’t paying much attention though, and bumped into something…or someone. Both you and the person fell to the ground, and you looked up at her from the ground as you whined and rubbed the spot on your leg you just knew would be bruised later. She was laying next to you, and you caught sight of her snarl. You jumped up looking her over. 

“Crud! Are you okay? I’m so so sorry, I didn’t mean to bump into you! Did I damage anything you’d bought? I can’t believe I did that again! Gah!” You whined and looked at her as if seeking forgiveness. She looked baffled, and raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “I can pay for anything I broke! Here, let me buy you something, too!” You took her hand, and she accepted it. You couldn’t tell what expression was on her face, but you were terrified you’d made a bad impression on this woman. 

“Uh…you don’t have to. I have what I need.” Vi spoke, and she seemed guarded. It was almost as if she thought you were tricking her, not believing you were really being this nice to a stranger. “You hurt, cupcake?” She said, seemingly coming to a conclusion in her mind. She brushed off your shoulders, touch lingering only briefly. Her touch was rough, but it didn’t seem to phase you. 

“I’m not hurt! Not any more hurt than I usually am when I fall anyway…” You mumbled the last bit, and shook your head. “And it’s okay! I insist, it’s the least I could do!” Your smile was wide and bright, and somehow contagious. As soon as you locked eyes with her, she smiled back at you, though her smile was much more akin to a smirk. 

She leaned forward so your faces were near each other, and her eyes glazed over yours and she continued to smirk as she pulled back. “If you really insist, I have something in mind.” Her original mission had subsided in her mind, and it seemed she had a new plan she wanted to see through. She was still being cautious, but she would play along for now. This could prove to be entertaining, afterall. 

You yapped away, Vi barely getting any words in since giving you her name. She didn’t seem to mind though, and listened closely to everything you had to say. It didn’t take long to learn all about you, considering the fact that you told her basically all the important information. It was fun! You got to tell her all about your job, your close group of friends, and your favorite hobbies and pastimes. Vi even asked questions to learn more, despite you not picking up on her prodding more into your personal life. 

She had tried to justify it as gathering intel for her next trip with Powder and the boys, but she was growing more intrigued by the second. Though as you reached the stall she had escorted you to, you looked at her. “Oh! A flower stall! Are you getting flowers for someone? That’s so thoughtful!” You giggled, and looked at the wide array of different flowers local to your home and even exported from further off. 

Vi smirked, before putting on a small act. She sighed deeply, and looked deep in thought. “I’d love to get her flowers, but I’m not sure what kind she likes. There’s too many to choose from, it’s overwhelming…what kind do you like?” She looked over to you, eyes full of mischief. She only smiled wider when it seemed like you didn’t gather the implications. 

“I think these one’s here are the prettiest, and the bouquet has a good variety of flowers! So no matter the room, you can probably make the flowers suit it perfectly!” You thought carefully about your answer, wanting to make sure she could get the best possible ones for the girl she wanted to get them for. It was no trouble, you did bump into her, so it only seemed fitting to help out however you could. 

“I see…” She said, and picked up the bouquet you chose. “I hope she’ll like these.” As she said it in a thoughtful but playful tone, before handing them to you. “So, do you like them?” Her hand was outstretched, and you looked at the flowers in confusion. She could practically see the gears turning in your head, and tried to wait to see if you’d understand. 

“THEY’RE FOR ME?!” You said, way louder than you meant to. It brought a light blush to your cheeks and you pouted at her. “But I’m the one that bumped into you! I should be getting you a gift!” You looked around the booth, and quickly picked up a bouquet of flowers you thought would suit her. Paying quickly, you copied her motion of giving her the flowers. 

“These are for you then! They have colors that remind me of you and your hair, so I guess it’s…a trade?” You thought carefully, trying to decide if you’d be satisfied with a trade rather than providing something to her from your stumble into her. The flowers weren’t very expensive, so it didn’t really seem fair. 

“How sweet of you…” Vi said, a glimmer of something in her eyes that you couldn’t place. “I’ll happily accept these flowers from you, cupcake.” She gave a wink, but by now she knew you wouldn’t understand the undertones of her words and meaning. She’d have to be more direct to get through to you. Stepping up her game seemed in order, but not just yet. 

“Let me at least buy you something else!” You pleaded, wide eyes as you looked around the stalls to find something else you could give her for her troubles. But Vi looked to the sky, cursing under her breath. At the noise, you tilted your head and asked, “Is something wrong?” You sounded worried, and it only made her heart swell further. 

“My sister is waiting for me at home, I have to go.” She seemed reluctant to say it, but started walking away with a glance to you over her shoulder. “Don’t worry, we’ll meet again.” To you, the words were reassuring…whereas most people would have seen it as ominous. You barely knew her, but you welcomed her regardless. There’s no way in hell this would be the last time she saw you. 

“But! I have to buy you something else!” You called, jogging the few steps to catch up with her. She had the flowers you had bought her in her arms, and the other items she’d “bought” within her carry pack. She stopped as you approached, you putting a hand on her shoulder. 

She hummed, turning to look fully at you before smirking with a dark glint in her eyes. “Then…” She leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your cheek, before playfully breathing into your ear, “We’ll make it a date. Next time, you can take me out on the condition I get to take you out after.” She pulled back, and could have burst out laughing from the shocked look on your face as you blushed. 

It only made you smile wide, “Okay! It’s a promise then! Do I get to pick what we do for our date?” You hopped once in place and waited eagerly for her response.

“Of course, cupcake. Anything you wanna do.” With her final words, she turned, as you lost her in the crowd of people. It only then occurred to you that she had no way of knowing where you lived. What if she got lost and never saw you again? Or even worse, what if you never saw her again? It had crushed your spirit a little, and your eyes cast down as you pouted, walking back to your house. 

Though from the shadows, Vi loomed. She watched you walk all the way home, making note of any recognizable locations and landmarks so she would remember exactly how to get to you. You were a new form of intoxication she’d never experienced. You were pure, innocent. You didn’t pick up on her flirting until she made sure you did, and you never once questioned her attire or why you’d never seen her before. It made her let out a chuckle, as she watched you, almost hungrily. 

You’d see her again, sooner than you’d think…and she’d make sure you could never forget her. She knew it was just a matter of time before she corrupted that innocence of yours, making you hers in any way she wanted…any way she desired. 

You should have run when you had the chance, cupcake. 

[babyy-blossom]

𝐂𝐚𝐧 𝐈 𝐊𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐨?

Established relationship!Remus Lupin x fem!reader ft. Sirius Black harboring a crush on Remus’ girlfriend. 𝐖𝐨𝐥𝐟𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

📌 some swearing, suggestive themes but not explicit, pining (Sirius), jealousy, the cut is were the fic gets more ‘suggestive’ masterlist

marauders era

I’ve been craving an established relationship fic between reader and one marauder where another is interested in her but I couldn’t find one centered around specifically that. I hope I did Remus and Sirius justice and not made them too ooc. I TRIED.

Sirius would never admit to being a jealous man. However, when he saw his best friend and long time crush together, emotions started stirring inside him.

He wanted his friend to be happy for once instead of worrying about full moons, classes, and the Black family letters.

It made Sirius’ heart flutter when he’d glance around to peer at the loving couple. He couldn’t describe what exactly he was feeling. Jealousy? Sometimes he’d wish he was Remus and other times he’d think about being you. The latter would be suffocated and smudged out when the thought creep into his mind.

Sirius understood that what happened a few times between him and Remus were just one time occurrences that didn’t mean anything. But that didn’t stop his mind from lingering back to the memories of his friend’s lips on his own, or how it made his heart race when Remus would hook his fingers inside the band of his trousers.

He convinced himself that they were just moments of weakness and lust.

Even the longing glances he’d steal of you and Remus made him feel butterflies Sirius felt his heart drop at the soft touches placed on each other. Why couldn’t that be him? Anger would set in shortly after. He wasn’t frustrated at you. No, Sirius was upset with himself. He missed his chance last year, and now he had watched his friend move in on opportunity that should have been his. After anger and frustration passed it was replaced with loneliness and longing that just got worse with each month and the cauldron was close to boiling over.

The 6th year was going as smooth as it could with the boy’s constant pranks on the Slytherins and overall rowdiness.

It was late October, Quidditch season. Hufflepuff had somehow managed to pull a win over on Slytherin. A huge party was commenced in celebration in the Hufflepuff common room.

Remus wasn’t up for partying tonight. Being close to a full moon met Remus was feeling worse for wear. You both decided to retreat back into the Gryffindor dorms.

James and Sirius hadn’t known you had left, James being too busy flirting up Lily and Sirius more or less sulking in the corner.

Turning around after closing the door you face Remus who is sitting on the side of the bed with his feet planted on the floor, his shoulders are tense but his eyes dropped.

Making your way to him felt like it took days. It had been a rough past couple of days, remembering back to the conversation you had with him earlier in the week.

“Y/n, I need to talk to you.” Your heart started to pound in your chest. The look on Remus’ face was one of turbulence. He looked to be lost in thought.

Before accompanying him at his desk in the library, you placed the book in your hands back on the dark wooden shelf of the library. Remus had already pulled out the chair beside him instead of across.

Wiping your now clammy hands on the black school skirt you padded your way to him taking your seat.

“What is it, Rem?” He could practically see the concern and confusion in your words.

Glancing into your eyes, he brought his hand to yours. They were warm and calloused, but yet soft to the touch, or maybe perhaps it just felt that way from just how gentle the touches were that he placed on your skin.

“It’s about Sirius,” he felt a squeeze from your hand, “he’s recently become withdrawn. He isn’t around nearly as much as he used to be. It started off small at first, over the beginning of this school year, he’s now seemed to completely change however the change only seems to be targeted towards me.”

You, in fact, had noticed this change. You’d caught him an odd number of times while he was glancing at you and the brown haired boy before scampering off and avoiding you for the rest of the day. You weren’t stupid. You had placed the pieces together.

The day after the two Gryffindors had got together Sirius had not come to any of his classes, claiming he was “sick.” But the puffy eyes and faint tear stained cheeks had told a different story. James and Remus had passed it off, thinking the boy had received another letter from his family. But you knew when his family sent letters. The way he acted that day was different from the other days he would received letters. He looked more broken than void of emotion. His voice had trembled talking to you that week.

You never did ask what was truly wrong because most times when Sirius would be asked that question he’d lash out unless he himself had asked to talk or seek comfort. You also had not wanted to draw attention to what did not need to be pried upon. However, you were not blind to the reason of the tears.

“Remus,” his eyes had once again met yours, “when the time comes, will you trust me.” Upon hearing that his whole body shifted to turn towards you.

“What do you mean by that?” Swallowing thickly you prepared yourself for your next move.

In a lowered hushed tone, you leaned closer to Remus, “before we got together, you and Siri were really close,” you could feel him tense under your glare, “was there anything more than friendly encounters between the two of you?”

Remus has always been a very quiet and closed wizard. Maybe too closed off at times. There were still some aspects of his life that alluded you.

This point in time marked an important moment in Remus’ relationship with you. He felt the truth of that question would crumble your relationship. The air in his lungs felt as though the it had gotten stuck and surfaced as a hiccup.

The hand that wasn’t engulfed in his, ran up to caress his face and pushed his face to look at you.

“Come, let’s go to the dorm, we’ll continue talking up there in private.” You offered him a sweet smile as you stood from your chair.

Remus had thought about that conversation every day till this very minute.

You stood in front of the tired man. Remus reached his hands up to grab your hips pulling you closer. His forehead rested on your stomach.

You finally decided to speak up against your better judgement. Remus currently was sending out every distress signal he could.

“Rem?” In response you heard a quiet, “humm?”

His hair was soft to the touch as you massaged his scalp trying to get him less rigid.

“I know what you’ve been thinking about. I’d like to remind you again that our conversation has changed nothing between us. Nothing. I still am in love with you deeply.”

He pulled you into his lap. Placing one small peck onto your lips he wrapped you in a tight knit hug sometimes letting up to be able to kiss you from lips to neck.

With his back facing the door and his head buried between the collar of you shirt and neck, Remus didn’t notice the faint shuffling coming from outside the boys’ shared dorm room or the turning of the doorknob.

“Remus, remember when I said I needed you to trust me when the time comes?” A hum and nod in reply was all the man could muster, still too interested in kissing and nipping the crook of your neck meeting your shoulder. “I need you too right now.”

The door softly opened with a creak and closed with a quiet thud as a boyish figure with long black curls crept inside. Sirius had left the party shortly after the two of you seeing as James left him and he couldn’t find you and Remus. Feeling abandoned he trudged his way back to Gryffindor.

It was now your devised plan went underway.

“Sirius,” your voice rang out through the quiet room. It wasn’t a question but it wasn’t yelled either. It was a sweet calling, like one you’d hear from your parents as a toddler when it was time to come wash up for supper.

Remus grabbed at your hips even harder. His body went tense but his lips betrayed him leaving out a soft sigh. He’d be tried and found guilty if he were to say he never imagined you calling out to his best mate during your intimate moments.

From the other side of the room Sirius immediately froze. His head whipped in your direction so quickly you thought he broke his neck. He not only heard you call out his name but he had also heard the sigh that left the lips of Remus.

The room from an outside perspective would be seen as calm, but to anyone actually in the room the atmosphere felt so think you could choke on it.

“Do not leave Sirius, come over here.” Remus gave you a fleeting glance before lifting you up so he could face Sirius and positioning you in a way so that he was on the other side of the bed with one leg dangling over the side while the other was supporting your back with his thigh as you straddled his mid section and he could rest his back on the bed frames columnar posts.

After the conversation was cut short in the library and finished in the dorm, many different topics have been uncovered and a vast range of feelings emerged. The main situation at hand was the most talked through of all. You, Remus, and Sirius in one room. However Remus didn’t expect to be faced with the resolution of said situation so quickly.

Mustering up all the confidence he could and pushing down all the anxieties, his lips moved quicker than his brain could process.

“Sirius, come on. Listen to what we have to say,” a gruffer voice spoke. You were sure your belt hoops would rip under the pressure and sheer force Remus was using to keep you in place.

“Please.” You voice so quiet, so longing it almost sounded pathetic.

Sirius gave a stout nod before removing his jacket he had worn to the party leaving him in a white button up shirt. Of course the first few buttons were undone. It was Sirius after all.

He was now sat in the unoccupied space between your thigh and the end of the bed. A light blush danced over his cheeks and the tip of his nose.

“Siri, we want to talk to you. You haven’t been acting yourself lately.” You chose to start the conversation, it was only fair seeing as how Remus and Sirius were not exactly on talking grounds. Both too stubborn to ask each other what was wrong or even ask each other for the time.

A slight nod was given. “Y-yes. I um have been busy recently… studying, yes, studying.” You felt a child like laugh rising up, but you quickly composed yourself and suppressed that laugh. Sirius hardly ever studied. Most of the time he had gotten notes from the others or even Lily when she was feeling extra generous to the slacker.

“Sirius, we know the truth.” Remus talked now. It looked like he was also quite amused by the thought of Sirius studying.

“Oh yeah, and what’s that.” At that Remus raised a brow. Sirius was challenging you both in a way. Daring each of you to actually say it.

“You want to shag my girl. But not just that, no. You want to be with me also. Be included in our dynamic.” Remus has put it bluntly, being sick of this cat and mouse game it seemed Sirius was playing. Any time both of you had tried to talk to him, he’d turn the other way, not to get under your skin but to stop the festering feelings from surfacing when he was around you and his best mate.

Your hand reached for Sirius’, holding it in yours. Pale grey eyes looked into yours. You searched for any type of emotion on his stoic face. You gave his hand a tight squeeze.

Sirius had felt like your eyes were ravaging him, looking for any hints of what was going on in his mind. He hadn’t expected Remus to be so harsh tongued with him. It took him back, but you, you were always soft and comforting to him.

Slowly Sirius returned your gesture flipping his hand to be able to hold yours, but he wasn’t looking at you, his eyes had been captured by Remus who was watching the whole scene unfold.

“Sirius, we want to know what you want.” His attention back on you. Black brows furrowed and lips pouted. This was his chance. His chance to have both of you.

“I want to be with you. Both of you. I don’t want to be alone anymore.” Sirius’ voice broke before half way through as a tear slid down his cheek. (Oh that hurt to write.) You had known of his family… situation. To think about it made your heart quench. Every time one of those damn letters appeared you had to control yourself or else they might have accidentally fell into the fireplace, however Remus always dispose of them after you warned him.

The scarred boy’s face had fallen. Now feeling a little guilty for how harsh he had been. Tanned hands rubbed at your sides. He pulled himself up to your neck whispering in your ear, “go to him, dovey,” and going back down but not until he kissed the back of your neck.

Remus watched with adoration in his eyes as his love slid from his lap to inbetween his legs facing Sirius.

“Siri? Won’t you sit with me? Please.” Your face looked perfect in the image of Sirius. Brows drawn together as your bottom lip popped out, eyes softened, pleading for him. Just him.

His body twisted so that one leg was completely on the bed bent in front of yours knees while the other still hung off the bed. Sirius sat that way for a purpose, a purpose he hoped to fulfill.

Remus sat up with you, his chest pressed into your back, arms snaking around your waist. You turned his way for just one more kiss.

Sirius watched as Remus shared the kiss you gave him. He stared as Remus licked your bottom lip that was just pouting to him a few seconds ago.

Sirius spoke before he thought. “Can I kiss her too?”

You felt a smirk pull onto the lips attached to yours. Pulling away, the smirk didn’t seem to fade from his face.

“Do it, Sirius.”

Placing one hand on the side of your face and the other on the hand that already occupied on your waist, he savored this moment. His first kiss with you. He took his time softly catching your lips in his.

His skin was soft on the palm of your hand as you caressed his face. Your other finding support on his thigh.

From where Remus was he witnessed the every detail, which was exactly what Sirius had wanted.

This moment shared between three lovers was just the start for them. Many more were to come but tonight they treated it like it was their last.

[witchthewriter]

𝐆𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐭 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!   

a/n: I watched the new season of The Witcher and somehow Geralt got even hotter??? Anyway, he has dilf energy and I'm in love

Warnings: family abuse, curse previously put on reader

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ        

・He had saved you, and yet, your family still did not want you.

・Geralt found out that it was your own father who cursed you

・A noble family that saw you as less than. And they banished you from their land, not wanting you anywhere near them.

・And when Geralt spoke on your behalf, asking what you were supposed to do, your father shrugged his shoulders and ignored the Witcher.

"You won't even keep y/n on as ... as anything?" The Witcher was disgusted when your father kept on ignoring him. It got to the point where Geralt threw a golden plate just above your father's head and his attention snapped to the white-haired man.

"I could have your head for that." Your father's voice was cold, it was always cold.

"And I could have yours," snarled Geralt, whose eyes were ablaze. But he knew he couldn't do anything about your family. Only about you.

・So, Geralt couldn't leave you to fend for yourself. And he didn't.

・Besides, you had no idea how to look after yourself. You had been a monster, trapped inside a form that was not yours for 7 years

・You were filthy, tired, and utterly defenseless.

・And even though Witcher's weren't known for their grace nor kindness, Geralt was different.

・He took you with him, damning your family for casting you out. Promising that you would rise above what they had done to you.

・But for now, he had to clean you up and ... catch you up on life.

- ✦ -

・Geralt sat you in front of him, Roach slightly grumpy with the extra weight. But once you reached Geralt's destination, he rewarded the steed with extra food

"Thank you, old friend," he whispered into the horses' ear.

・Helping you inside, he had arranged a room that had a bathing chamber

・The water ran hot as Geralt added in oils and different kinds of herbs

・It was an odd situation, yes, helping a stranger clean themselves.

・But Geralt couldn't live with the knowledge of you being left on your own. The possibility of so much danger. Of being taken advantage of.

・Helping you undress was slightly embarrassing, for the both of you. Your body was still getting used to its original form. Your balance was off, and your posture wasn’t very good. Geralt had to keep on correcting it.

・Easing you into the bath, he grabbed a cloth and started gently rubbing the grime from your body. The dirt, sweat and mud that caked your body

・Even when you transformed back into your normal form, the dirt still remained, as did the torn clothes that you had worn before being cursed into a great beast

・Speaking was difficult as well, but it was becoming easier with time. Even though not much had passed.

・The bath was the best thing you had felt in 7 whole goddamn years.

・Hot; like it was ridding you of all the hurt that built over time

・You swished your fingers through the water, delighting in the ripples they made. Such a small happiness. Yet you found glee in small things now. Grateful for a second chance.

・Geralt kept on scrubbing at your skin, using a bristled brush on some areas, careful not to be too rough or stay in one spot for too long

・Next he used this delicious smelling soap. Your knowledge of herbs was next to nothing, due to a lack in education, but you thought it smelt homely, earthly and calming. Lathering it in his hands and massaging it onto your own, you both worked the soap into different areas of your skin

“I’m going to wash your hair now,” he said. Voice soft yet still rough, like he wasn’t used to being kind to others. If that were true, you wondered why he was doing this for you.

“But first we need to brush it,” his eyes squinted at the tangled mess but started on it nonetheless.

・It hurt at first, but you knew Geralt was being as gentle as he could be, but there were so many knots.

“What do you think about cutting it?” You shook your head. Your hair was one of the only things that made you feel … beautiful.

“Ugh, fine. But this is going to take a while.”

・You shrugged your shoulders and happily kept on sitting in the tub, taking over some of the scrubbing, especially your feet, which felt so sensitive.

・Once they were large and clawed, now … they were human

・Your eyes stilled as the water reflected the glow of the candles around the room

・And you sighed. Not in sadness, or pain, or grief. But with the knowledge that you no longer had to be someone that you were not. Whether that was a beast or playing a role in your family that you didn’t want to have to play.

“You alright?” Geralt had made significant process, practically finished with your hair. And he grabbed a bucket and told you to lean back as he poured the water onto your hair.

・Geralt grabbed a different kind of soap and placed it in your hair, massaging and rubbing it, making sure there wasn’t a spot unwashed.

・You weren’t used to the sensation and let out a laugh. It tickled a tiny bit, especially when he rubbed behind your ears

・Unbeknownst to you, Geralt was slightly smiling. He enjoyed seeing you experience some happiness.

・After he had washed your hair a total of three times, he stood back satisfied with your appearance and held out a towel for you to wrap yourself in.

・Helping you out of the bath, he set down a pair of clean clothes on your bed and said he would be back in a few minutes.

・He wanted to give your privacy, while also wanting to check on Roach.

・The clothes were a big pair of brown pants and a long white shirt. They were a fresh pair from the Innkeeper's husband, who had recently passed away. Geralt had paid extra for them.

・After twenty minutes, Geralt came back into the room to find you asleep on the floor. The usual place you slept.

・A place you had slept for 7 years.

・7 years without a bed. Without a blanket or pillows. Nor were you given any sort of comfort.

・A rage so hot spread through Geralt that it practically radiated off of him.

・In that moment he swore you would have a better life, the best he could find … or give you.

[thatmonsterfuckerguy]

3 male feral ghouls (literally, NOT the Fallout type)

Warnings: smut, more than one ghoul fucking the reader and claiming him as a mate, cum, cum consumption, oral, rough fucking, primal kink, the reader is being fucked by very undead ghouls, not conventionally pretty men

It was mating season for ghouls, but not all of them would get lucky. There were always a few males left behind. Three of said males had decided to band together for emotional support, but they grew desperate.

You were in your room, watching porn and masturbating when, to your dismay, the power went out. You went out of your room to go get a flashlight. Your annoyance was short-lived when you heard a crash from one of your windows. You froze. You began to hear hoarse cries from where the crash was. Your heart sank as you came to the realisation that the cause was a pack of ghouls. You heard them rummaging through your kitchen. You tried to be as quiet as you could, creeping towards your front door carefully. Every inch of your body wanted to bolt out and run away screaming, but you barely held yourself together. It didn't help that you couldn't see anything. You were feeling your way around in the dark, trying to stay calm and not make any sudden noises. You staggered around for what felt like forever.

Suddenly, a cold, large, boney hand grabbed hold of you. You stayed perfectly still, praying it would lose interest. The ghoul let out a coo of some sort at the feeling of your warmth. It pressed its face close to you, smelling the sweat on your skin. Something in the ghoul's throat rumbled. You were trying your best not to scream, cry, throw up or piss yourself as this was happening. The ghoul gently wrapped its limbs around you and rubbed its face against yours. It gave you a lick on the cheek. Your fear began to turn into confusion. Was it being friendly? You hesitated. You slowly moved to touch the ghoul back. The ghoul let out a sort of gasp when you touched its arm. The ghoul's breath hitched.

You began to feel something poking your ass. The ghoul held you tighter, but not uncomfortably, and began to buck its hips against you as it let out what sounded like whimpering and whining. The ghoul licked your neck slowly, sending shivers down your spine. You hadn't gotten to finish yourself off earlier. Both you and the ghoul were dying for a good, hard fuck. You pulled down your pants and spread your front hole to make sure the ghoul wouldn't go in the wrong hole. The ghoul's breath hitched until it almost sounded like frequent moans. It was so desperate and needy, it couldn't stop shaking. It clumsily tried to fuck its way into your hole. You had to guide him in properly. His dick was almost uncomfortably thick and long. The ghoul let out a euphoric moan as it slid inside your warm, tight hole. The ghoul bent you over the nearest piece of furniture and began fucking into you roughly and desperately.

Both your moans attracted the attention of the other two ghouls who had been rummaging through your kitchen. The other ghouls made sounds of curiosity as they approached. One of them tried to touch you only for your mate to hiss at them to back off as he fucked into you harder and more possessively. He wrapped his arms around you to make it clear that you were his and his alone. The ghoul who had tried to touch you groaned in annoyance. The other one began to touch himself as he watched you and your mate.

His big hands almost wrapped around you entirely and he was practically using you as a fleshlight. He desperately fucked into you, occasionally accidentally slipping out and whining every time it happened. He grabbed fistfuls of your skin as he got closer. He bit into your neck for a sense of any kind of relief. You thought you felt his tears drop onto your skin. He was moaning uncontrollably. He somehow managed to fuck into you harder and faster than any human ever had. You felt his cock throbbing desperately inside you, begging for release. You were almost too tight for him to be able to release, but he loved the tease so much and he was too desperate to stop. The ghoul began to cry out loudly in an animalistic way as he got close. The thing bellowed as he came inside you at last. He came in you for a whole minute. Before he even thought of getting you off his cock, cum was pouring out of your hole and made a puddle at both your feet.

In a daze, the ghoul knelt down in between your legs and lapped you up, cleaning his mess. He suddenly noticed how sensitive your t-dick was when his long tongue had accidentally flicked it. He curiously ran his tongue over it again. He loved the way it made you squirm. It fascinated the other ghouls too.

The one that had tried to touch you earlier made his way to you, this time your mate let him approach. The two ghouls helped position you back into your breeding position against your nearest piece of furniture. This time though, the newcomer was getting ready to breed you while your previous mate settled himself between your legs to continue stimulating your t-dick with his tongue.

The third approached at last. He was luckily smaller than the other two and positioned his dick in front of your mouth. He stared at you in anticipation. You looked him in his cloudy, sunken-in eyes and started sucking him off. He let out cries of pleasure almost instantly. With that, the other two began stimulating you too. Here you were, a fat cock in your mouth, a thick cock pounding into you from the back and a long, slimy tongue coiling around your t-dick. The first ghoul's tongue worked so much better on you than any ftm stroker ever did and he made sure that your t-dick was never fully free from his tongue despite the second ghoul fucking into you like his life depended on it. The second ghoul was a lot rougher and more beastly. He pinned you down and bit into your neck as he growled. The third was trying his best not to fuck your throat too hard. The ghoul fucking you was practically digging his claws into your skin as he fucked you faster than any human ever could.

You were theirs and theirs alone. The ghouls had claimed you as their mate from that day onward. They often sniff checked your hole. Any time they felt like your hole was starting to stop smelling like them, they automatically began fucking you regardless of what you were doing. They became very protective of you too. Around humans and especially around other ghouls. They insist on sleeping together with you as a pack every night. You decided to name them since you were kinda stuck with them until they die or you die. The first one you met, you decided to name Mr Snuggles because he was the most affectionate of the bunch and you thought it was funny until he started fucking you and you absolutely did not want to moan that. You changed his name to Sugar soon after to keep the spirit of the first name and not be nearly as weird to moan while being fucked. The second, you decided to name Scout because he had a tendency to be the first to investigate anything. As for your shy third ghoul, you decided to name him Eye because he was often silently observing things in corners.

[lovelytsunoda]

stand by me // mick schumacher

summary: the past few seasons have been rough on mick, and sometimes all y/n could do was reassure him that she was there. because sometimes, standing by someone is the best that you can do.

pairing: mick schumacher x female reader

warnings: haas, guenther steiner. mentions of serious crashes. sad mickey, burning of old haas merch, angie makes an appearance

when the night has come, and the moon is the only light we see. i won't cry, no, no, no, i won't shed a tear. just as long as you tell me, say you're gonna stand by me.

it was one thing to watch your boyfriend hit a barrier at two hundred kilometres an hour.

it was a totally different thing for every mechanic in the garage to simply roll their eyes instead of expressing some iota of concern.

“what the fuck is wrong with these people.” y/n huffed, moving to push past the viewing desk, fully intent on fighting guenther in his own garage before louise pulled her back

“it’s not worth it.” the older woman reminded her as she tried to keep a clear head.

micks headset wasn’t working; it was like gary was talking to a wall. nobody knew if mick was okay, and the only reaction she could see from guenther was annoyance. even kevin had come over the comms to ask if mick was okay.

y/n took her headset off, stumbling over to gary as she tried to keep her emotions in check. getting upset wouldn’t be good for anybody, but that crash was bad. the car had essentially split in half, taking mick with it as the session was red flagged.

“gary, is he okay?” she asked shakily, reaching for something to hold on to. “gary, i need to know.”

“i can’t hear him talking, but I can hear movement. i think he’s trying to climb out, which is a good sign.”

she didn’t start breathing again until she knew he was out of the car, knew that her mickey was safe. when they brought him to the medical bay, louise helped her there on shaky legs, and she sat with mick while he called his mom, and then they both cried together.

but from that moment on, they knew his days with haas were numbered.

“gene called me a dead man walking.” his voice sounded so small. he had been transferred to a hospital and taken in for extra observation. his mother was flying in from switzerland, and the fluorescent lights were giving him a headache.

“gene haas better watch his fucking back.” y/n scowled. “what does he know about this goddamn sport? he’s a tax criminal!”

but that day changed things. even though he knew he had y/n in his corner, you could see the clouds in mick schumachers eyes, the little glimpses of his father coming through. he would t talk to her about it, insistent that he could somehow change gene’s mind.

next race weekend, she walked with sad eyes and a heavy heart towards the mercedes motorhome and the one man that she knew would never steer her wrong.

toto wolff had become something almost like a surrogate father for y/n once she had started hanging around the track more. the older man looked out for her when mick couldn’t. toto knew she had never felt at ease in the haas garage, that there was something about the atmosphere in guenther steiners garage that made her uncomfortable.

“hey, toto.” she sighed, sinking into the austrians arms as he opened the office door.

“hey, kiddo. how’s mick doing?”

she frowned, following toto into his office. “he won’t talk about it. he still thinks there’s something he can do, and he shuts me down every time I suggest he start talking another team. I think guenther is stringing him along.”

it hurt that mick was emotionally firewalling her. yes, they still talked, but never about his career. he always shut her down with that sad look of his, or a suggestively placed kiss, attempting to distract her from the topic with the thought of something else.

she was dead worried about him.

“the air is thinner where gunther is from. it’s impairing his ability to think properly.”

she snorted. “toto, I’m worried sick about mick, he needs to talk to someone. you knew his dad. so did bonno. maybe talking to someone who knew micheal will help. I don’t know, but I can’t let this keep going on.”

“I’ll give him a call. you’re doing the best you can, y/n. please don’t beat yourself up over doing or not doing enough. it’s going to take time for mick to feel like himself again.”

“I know. I just wish that there was more I could do.”

later that week, she and mick flew to texas to visit his sister and her boyfriend ian at the family ranch. the moon was high, refracting off the water and illuminating the evergreens. mick and ian sat outside by the fire pit, angie scampering around their feet. gina and y/n were inside the house, stuffing a cardboard bankers box full of old haas merch. it had become glaringly clear to both women that mick wasn't likely to have a seat the following season.

and mick wasn't taking it well. he was still processing it, but there had been times where she felt like the man she loved would cry himself to sleep. she had the suspicion that once she went to sleep, her lover began to cry, so that she would never see him in such pain.

gina and y/n came outside, two cardboard boxes in hand as they met the men by the fire pit. they had beer bottles in hand and sad smiles on their faces as y/n rejoined her boyfriend, sitting on his lap before gently kissing his cheek.

"don't think about it, mickey. you've talked to toto, right? and jost? you aren't completely out of options for next year." y/n frowned, running her thumb over mick's bare arm. "don't give up hope just yet."

mick kissed her softly, resting his cheek against her skin. "why did you put all of my old haas merch in a cardboard box?"

"because we're burning it." she said matter-of-factly, getting to her feet and grabbing a baseball cap from the top of the box. "it'll be cathartic."

she stood in front of the fire pit, listening to the wooden logs crackle and pop as she frisbee-threw the cap into the fire, watching the fabric catch fire. she flipped the bird at the burning object with both fingers, shouting insults at guenther steiner as she watched it burn.

“take that you old austrian bastard. I bet gunethers cock is like, minuscule and that’s why he has to call his boyfriend gene before he makes any decisions.”

mick laughed a little, pulling a polo shirt out of the box.

“I mean come in now, he calls gene more than he calls his wife.” gina added. “who fucking does that? if I was his wife I’d be asking for a divorce right about now.”

mick balled up the shirt in his hands, punting it into the fire as if it was a baseball. the fabric caught fire instantly, swallowed by the orange flames as they spread across the royal blue fabric, leaving blackened ash in its wake.

“you’re right.” mick exhales, putting an arm around his girlfriend . “that felt really good.”

lifting their beer bottles to the sky and turning up the stereo, all summer long by kid rock blasting loud enough that the speakers shook, the family sang along, throwing various haas-related memorabilia into the fire and watching it go up in a cloud of dark grey smoke.

“they made ugly-ass merch anyways.”

“uh, guys, is it supposed to smell this rancid?” ian asked, scrunching up his face at the smell of burning plastic and fabric.

“oh fuck.”

“we didn’t think this through! ian, come help me get some water to put this out with.”

ian and gina ran off to get water, angie barking after them as mick and y/n fanned at the fire, laughing crazily as they used their sweaters as fans, hoping to tamp down some of the blaze.

“hey, babe, I want to tell you something.” mick smiled. “I want you to be the first to know.”

giving up on fanning the fire, as the oxygen was making the situation worse, y/n paused, her wool sweater falling limp in her hands as she looked at her lover.

“toto wants me to sign as a reserve driver next year. he’s already lost nyck to alphatauri and I think stoffel is going to aston martin. if haas drop me, I still have options. I can still come back to the field somehow.”

“oh, mickey, that’s wonderful.” y/n gushed, throwing her sweater down on a deck chair before moving over to mick and wrapping her arms around him. “I’m so proud of you.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you.” mick reminded her, kissing her softly, cradling her body in his arms as they swayed back and forth to ‘hero’ by enrique iglesias, the song playing softly in the background as they kissed in the stinky firelight.

angie padded towards the couple, nuzzling into y/n’s leg as they stared lovingly into each others eyes.

“I love you, y/n.”

“I love you too, mickey.”

TAGS

@magnummagnussen @libraryofloveletters @oconso @lorarri @scuderiamh @sidcrosbyspuck @thatsdemko @scuderiasundays @silverstonesainz

[hard-core-super-star]

rubix's masterlist [find my series masterlist here]

disclaimer: don't forget to read the warnings on each individual fic [minors do not interact with my smut fics]

kate bishop

come back home...(i'm afraid of disappearing) aka kate comes home after a rough night out patrolling the city to find you waiting for her. despite the argument the two of you had earlier in the day, you do everything in your power to comfort your girlfriend.

i think i love you still aka you've spent four years trying to understand the complicated mess of thoughts that make up kate bishop. after dealing with the pain of her absence, and the more significant pain of her return, you finally get it right.

my ears fill with the sound of you kneeling [SMUT] aka you and your girlfriend explore a slightly unconventional form of comfort after you catch her slipping into her self-destructive tendencies again.

no such things as good grief aka you always knew being a superhero came with a long list of dangers but it turns out you weren't quite ready to deal with someone else suffering for your mistakes.

you can see it with the lights out aka enduring a storm and a subsequent power outage with kate bishop by your side might not be the worst thing in the world.

bleeding me dry like a goddamn vampire [SMUT] aka a failed mugging leads to you discovering kate's biggest secret...and her finding out yours.

can you see right through me? aka you're notoriously bad at archery and somehow even worse at keeping yourself together around a certain kind-eyed archer.

for your love, i'll do whatever you want [SMUT] aka omega heats are incredibly unbearable, thankfully kate knows just what to do to make you feel better.

i'm all skeleton and melody aka kate calls for backup when she realizes how underprepared she is to help you deal with your grief over losing may.

searching for redemption [SMUT] aka a multiversal anomaly grants you and your girlfriend the opportunity to explore some of your more...intense desires.

i wanna make your heartbeat run like rollercoasters [SMUT] aka things take a surprising turn when kate's alternate self shows up in the middle of an ongoing [slightly public] battle between you and your archer.

what your hands were made for [SMUT] aka kate ruins a cute moment by getting a little too excited about you wearing her hoodie.

make you mine this season aka a badly timed snowstorm leaves you unable to make it to the barton farm for christmas. thankfully, a certain archer shows up to keep you company.

kissing in the crossfire aka you and kate are better off apart. unfortunately, you can't stay away from each other long enough to realize some puzzle pieces aren't meant to fit together.

caught myself aka kate's competitiveness gets in the way of her seeing you for who you truly are.

ain't that the kicker aka the morning after your late-night encounter with kate doesn't go quite as planned...and neither does the day after that or the day after that.

underneath my skin aka it takes a few tries but after kate shows up unannounced at wanda's cabin, you finally make things right.

when it rains aka when the threat of relapsing rears its head, kate does her best to support you...even when you try to push her away.

why we ever [SMUT] aka forgiveness comes in many different shapes. thankfully, you and kate find the one that works best for both of you.

hold you in my arms tonight [SMUT] aka kate's spending another late night at the office and you do what you always do best: distract her enough so she'll pay attention to you instead

i bet it stung aka kate tries her best to be there for everyone but sometimes, she messes up.

an inch away from more than just friends [SMUT] aka falling in love with your best friend is supposed to be easy. unfortunately, neither you nor kate are particularly good at talking about your feelings.

i'll be home for christmas [SMUT] aka even though you wake up alone on christmas day, kate finds a way to make it up to you the only way she knows how.

you could love me if i knew how to lie aka after spending all your teenage years engaged in a somewhat unserious rivalry, kate bishop makes her way back into your life as the last thing you need: a security guard. maybe it'll be the push you need to admit your feelings for her...or maybe just an excuse to bicker with her.

how you thrill me [SMUT] aka kate takes you out shopping for the next gala you’re attending together but she gets distracted in the dressing room.

hailee steinfeld

frequency of all we know... aka you and your girlfriend share an intimate moment during the Vanity Fair afterparty.

it's you that i've been missing aka a quiet morning with hailee leads to an invitation to move in with her…and the creation of her new song.

coming up for air aka when you're drowning under the weight of your thoughts, hailee becomes the life jacket that keeps you afloat.

sneaking out into town, holding hands, just killing time. aka amidst the chaos of the across the spider-verse press tour, and the unavoidable PR stunts she has to do to cover up your relationship, your girlfriend finds comfort in you.

guess we lied [SMUT] aka you and your ex had sworn you would never let each other back into each other's bed. it looks like you both lied.

karma is the girl on the screen coming straight home to me aka having to do interviews with your girlfriend comes with its own set of challenges. thankfully, you always have each other's back.

stars by the pocketful aka going to crappy award shows was never something you found enjoyable. lucky for you, your girlfriend takes it upon herself to change that.

my thoughts will echo your name aka you meet your biggest crush at a party and let her slip past your fingers. thankfully, your feelings aren’t as one-sided as you thought.

remind me i'm alive aka your day off takes a sudden turn when your best friend's sister decides to finally make a move after silently pining after you for far too long.

honeycomb aka you decide to let your kids help you bake a cake for your wife and cute chaos ensues.

shock to your system aka your move to new york isn't as panic-free as you would have hoped but thankfully, your girlfriend knows just what to do to help.

with friends like you, who needs friends? aka you had always said relationships weren't for you but a certain brunette seems hellbent on proving you wrong.

meet me there, i'll give you your roses aka just because you two are supposed to be keeping your relationship a secret doesn't mean you can't have some fun with it.

one step forward, three steps back aka when hailee tries to convince you to ride the publicity wave and appear in her new music video, you’re forced to accept the truth of your feelings for her.

deep blue, you painted me golden aka the ups and downs that come with secretly dating under the watchful eye of the media prove to be too much for you and hailee...so you decide to come up with a solution yourselves instead of giving in to the chaos.

keep on coming back for more aka you don't really like surprises...unless they involve a certain brunette and your favorite song.

get her back! aka you and hailee try to get your relationship back on track while shooting the sunkissing music video. it’s easier said than done though, especially since the line between love and hate blurs more and more every day.

sinking deeper into you [SMUT] aka your girlfriend is the sweetest person you've ever met and yet you can't help but try to get her out of her shell for a night.

the sweetest torture one could bear aka when you and hailee are flown out on vacation to promote your growing 'relationship', you find out there's more than meets the eye when it comes to the actress...and your feelings for her.

like words left unsaid aka hailee can't ever seem to keep her eyes off of you and you can't really complain about that.

my rotten mind and how much it worships you aka you and hailee slowly figure out your feelings for each other and start to do something about them instead of arguing.

you're my morning sun aka a look through your fondest memories featuring your wife and the chaos that comes with forming a family.

is it cool that i said all that? aka doing interviews with your girlfriend is all fun and games until someone gets too comfortable with their questions.

a kiss to every scar [SMUT] aka hailee sets out to show you the ropes of acting on a tv show...unfortunately, your very obvious crush on her distracts her enough to stop being so professional.

make every mistake aka you run into your ex at the vanity fair party, almost a full year after your breakup, and are forced to accept some hard truths.

i'm the powder, you're the fuse aka being hailee's body double doesn't shape up to be exactly what you planned...it turns out far better.

wanda maximoff

i touched you for only a fortnight aka after hearing that someone's been flirting with wanda, you start questioning your place in her life. luckily, your relationship is one of the main things she's secure in.

we were forever [SMUT] aka there's only one thing that can soothe your insecurites about your relationship with wanda: giving her pleasure no one else can.

(they long to be) close to you aka after months of pining after the lovely owner of westview's best cafe, you finally get a chance to get to know her better.

create a dream come true aka despite your growing connection to wanda, she starts pushing herself too hard and not telling you help. thankfully, you're too stubborn to let her go.

moondust in your hair aka after spending weeks looking for the perfect place for your first date, you take wanda out and give your relationship a label.

wanda maximoff + natasha romanoff

romance is not dead, if you keep it just yours [SMUT] aka your girlfriends set out to make your birthday as memorable as possible.

push me on the counter, call me princess [SMUT] aka you and wanda develop a connection you definitely shouldn't have with someone in a relationship. unbeknowst to you, it's all part of their plan.

losing focus [SMUT] aka as unexpected as it is, you become a permanent part of wanda and natasha's relationship.

brought you together so nice [SMUT] aka natasha takes care of you until wanda comes back. needless to say, the witch is more than happy about the arrangement you both came up with in her absence.

lilia calderu

redo the prophecy aka when demons from your past start chasing you again, you end up with the one person you can always count on...even if being with you puts her in danger.

carol danvers

bare your soul 'til it's naked [SMUT] aka you and carol experiment with switching up your usual roles and accidentally discover something new.

if forever will have me aka your girlfriend brings two stowaways on board after a rough mission, you welcome them with open arms while carol tries to adjust.

(you give me) guilty pleasure [SMUT] aka after another failed attempt at asking carol on a date, you decide to shift into her and get some much needed...release. unfortunately, carol doesn't know how to knock.

yelena belova

passive-aggressive magic tricks aka a fun game night with your friends takes a turn when they realize how much of a soft dork the russian turns into when she's around you.

miscellaneous

i'll keep it secret if you let me get a taste [SMUT; selfcest] aka an unfortunate run-in with a powerful coven gives kate a chance to satisfy certain curiosities about herself.

cross that line again [SMUT; selfcest] aka kate calls yelena for help fixing the mess she created. things don't exactly go to plan and the russian is forced to face some uncomfortable truths about her desires.

the good, the bad, and the dirty [kinktober special] aka kate might be young and inexperienced but she's a damn good negotiator. so, in search of a merger that will catapult bishop security to the top of the food chain, she shares her most prized possession with the other CEOs.

if you're weak, come to me [SMUT; wandanat] aka wanda gets injured during a mission and natasha is TOTALLY fine with that (not). they seek each other's comfort in the only way they know how.

sudden desire [SMUT; bishova] aka after yelena dissapears on an unknown mission for a month, kate decides to take things into her own hands and encourage her to come home. things don't go exactly as planned for her on the blonde's return.

OWN MY MIND [SMUT; wandanat] aka wanda's crush on natasha has grown to nearly unbearable levels. instead of pining after her, she decides to do something about it during a party.

is it casual now? [SMUT; wandanat] aka wanda gives in to her desire for natasha but runs away for fear of overstepping. natasha runs after her and shows her she has nothing to fear.

just gotta have it [wandanat] aka after their one night stand, wanda and natasha navigate what comes next in different ways. wanda isn’t a fan.

some kind of magic [SMUT; wandanat; selfcest] aka after natasha runs away from her again, wanda comes up with an unconventional plan to get her to admit the truth about her feelings.

[mysteria157]

Chapter 18

Pairing: Nanami Kento x Black Fem Reader

Word Count: ~13k (it’s a long one)

CW: angst, fluff, profanity, explicit sexual content, mental illness (anxiety and grief)

Summary: You keep Nanami afloat on the anniversary of Yu’s death. Nanami finally works up the courage on a warm day of Sakura season. 

Notes: Thank you to all who have been supportive so far. Reblogs, likes, or comments are always appreciated <3 One more chapter and I’m so sad to let it go. But happy reading and I hope you enjoy!

Divider: @cafekitsune

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It Had To Be You Masterlist (Complete)

**Do not plagiarize any of my works or translate without my permission!**

You had a feeling today would be rough. 

You could tell from Kento’s behavior the day prior. His typically reserved nature seemed even more pronounced in your interactions. There was a heaviness to his indifferent gaze, a solemnness that lingered whenever he fixed his eyes on something for too long.

He had given up trying to hide his emotions from you long ago. You knew the reason of his shift in demeanor. Why pretend? You could sense his unease intensifying, like a silent wave rising in dark waters, growing with every passing second and on the verge of carrying him away at a moment’s notice. 

So you made sure to wake up before him, and when you took in his form as he slept, you couldn’t help but notice the subtle fractures emerging. 

This time, no snores escaped from his lips, and the absence of the sound somehow punctuated the deepening sadness that had begun to envelop him the day before. Your eyes traversed the contours of his bare back, tracing the sinewy lines of his muscular arms tucked beneath the pillow cradling his head. He lay facing you, his cheek indented by the press of his pillow against it, his disheveled blonde locks cascading messily across his forehead and cheeks. Blonde lashes delicately brushed the lower rimes of his eyes, and his back gently rose and fell in rhythm with slow breaths. 

To anyone else, he was a handsome man sleeping. But to you, you could tell he was fighting. Even in slumber, devoid of any waking expression, you could still see faint traces of sorrow seeping through his pores.  

You had a feeling today would be rough.

After all, who could cope well on the anniversary of their best friend’s death? 

For as strong and resilient as Kento was, you knew he couldn’t. 

So you did your best to distract him. You asked him to help with breakfast—a task he normally tried to do without you having to say much. And that small task seemed to help him divert his focus from Yu, if only for a moment. You kept him engaged, kept him talking as you both ate together and Ulani smashed waffle strips into her mouth.

And luckily, he didn’t fend off any of your attempts of distraction the entire day. Even though he was quieter than usual, the smile that he shot your way was just as genuine and loving. You pulled him out of the house with Ulani to meet Kaya and Aiko at the park. It would be good to get him out of the house, to let him breathe fresh air to dispel the toxic emotions that lingered within him. 

He seemed okay.

At least he did now as you watched him from your perch under a canopy of leaves against the oak tree you laid against. He stood tall amidst the sea of other children in the space of the tranquil park, Ulani in his arms and Aiko perched on his shoulders. Her hands were buried in his blonde locks, uncaring of messing them up as she giggled loudly in response to whatever he was speaking up to her. For now, that grief had settled into a low simmer, his deep eyes filled with mirth as he joked with the two girls wrapped around him. 

“Uncle Ken! Uncle Ken! Do the thing! Do it!” Aiko giggled excitedly, unable to contain her joy as she wriggled atop his shoulders.

Kento hummed playfully, gently squeezing Ulani’s cheeks until she squealed in his embrace. “The thing? Aiko, you’ll have to use your words. I can’t read your mind,” he goaded, making Aiko giggle even harder, face blushing with ceaseless laughter.

“The thing!” she whined, smiling down at him as he continued to play with his daughter.

“The thing. The thing. Hmmm.” He pretended to ponder for a moment, pursing his lips. 

Aiko’s giggles stopped short when Kento grabbed her ankle and lifted her off his shoulders, dangling her upside down while still holding his babbling daughter with the other arm. Aiko pealed with laughter, the sound echoing through the park, bouncing against the plastic of the playground they stood at. Kento chuckled softly, slowly spinning in a circle as he delighted in Aiko’s please for more.

As you watched them, your back leaning against the trunk of the thick oak tree, butterflies quivered to life in your stomach. It was a moment you never imagined you would experience. In the past, you had weakly clutched onto a desire for children, a partner—a family. But work always consumed your time, leaving little room for anything that you could do for yourself. It all seemed like a distant dream, just like your passion for a career in ceramics.

But seeing Kento now, watching him rearrange Aiko and lift her so she could wrap small hands around monkey bars, you couldn’t help but feel thankful for falling into that 1% of faulty birth control. Even with an IUD and a condom, you still ended up pregnant. And maybe it was fate because Kento was a wonderful father. Once that mask of his had fallen, and his glares had slowly morphed into soft, rare smiles and longing glances, you could see just how much of him would foster the wonderful father he had become.

You couldn’t help but think about more with him. You couldn’t help but imagine vacations across the world with your little family. You couldn’t help but imagine him working at the bakery in the mornings, teaching Ulani how to knead bread and man the register, throwing off his apron as soon as he walked into the house and pressing a tired yet loving kiss to your lips. 

Over a year ago, the ease with which you had settled into domesticity with Kento would have made you uncomfortable. But with him, it felt as natural as breathing. He blended effortlessly into your life; his presence seamlessly woven into the fabric of your being. 

Watching him leave Aiko’s side so she could play on her own, his strong arms wrapped around his daughter as he showered her light brown cheeks with kisses—your breath caught in your chest.

You wanted more.

It was an ever-present thought in your mind. It nagged at you with each kiss that he craved to have each day. It whispered in your mind every night as you drifted off to sleep and as you woke up by his side. It lingered in your thoughts during shared dinners with the three of you, and it grew more pronounced every time your gaze shifted to his left hand, unsettling you with the absence of a ring. 

Part of your soul wanted to recoil at the thought. The mere mention of fantasizing about marriage would have made your women’s studies professor burn every letter of recommendation she gave you. But the other part of you relished in it. Because if there was a way to tie yourself to Kento, you would do it in a second.

“Lost in thought?” Kaya’s voice broke through the haze, jolting you back to reality. You blinked and refocused, finding her reclining on the tree trunk beside you, her legs stretched out in front of her. “You’ve been zoned out for a good ten minutes.”

Instead of answering her, you deflected, not quite comfortable sharing your thoughts. “How are you feeling?”

Kaya took a deep breath, her shoulders rising and falling with a heavy weight. “Surprisingly fine. Well, as fine as one can be on a day like this.” Aiko called out for Kento’s attention, and Kaya smiled softly as she watched her play on the monkey bars. 

“Uncle Ken, watch me!”

“I’m watching. I’m watching.”

“I miss him so much…he was everything to me,” Kaya whispered. The pain in her voice made your own chest tighten as you tried to put yourself in her shoes. You couldn’t imagine losing Kento. You couldn’t even fathom the thought of Ulani having to grow up without a father like him. “That pain will always be there. But it’s gotten a little easier to deal with.” Kaya waved at her daughter, answering Aiko’s loud call for attention, and chuckled softly to herself. 

You hoped Kento could say the same. You hoped his pain had reached a level where he could find get through today without drowning.

You just hoped you were doing well to help.

Eventually, Kento made his way to where you and Kaya were seated on the blanket, nestled beneath the canopy of leaves. He gently placed Ulani on the soft fabric and delighted in watching her crawl towards you, her cheeks rosy from laughter, her mouth glistening with drool, and her wild curls tousled by the wind. As he slid down the tree to settle himself next to you, he turned his head, pressing a tender kiss to your temple, filling you with a burst of warmth. You took that touch with you and nestled it inside of your chest in the hope that it was a manifestation of just how content he felt in that very moment.

In the afternoon, you found yourself surrounded by the rest of your friends—Gojo, Shoko, Geto and Ome—all laughing loudly and picking out items on a menu that were Yu’s favorite, inside of a restaurant that he loved. The gentle look in Kento’s eyes surprisingly had yet to fall. Even as your friends told stories of moments shared with Yu, as the history grew more intimate and somber, he remained steady. 

He was more tense as you all sat together afterward beneath Yu’s tree, offering their own bits of peace and well wishes at his resting place. When it was Kento’s turn, he chose to stay silent, and no one pressed him to speak. Gojo didn’t tease him, Geto’s gaze didn’t linger too long, and you shifted closer to him, cradling Ulani in your arms as she peacefully slept. 

When everyone finally departed for home, Kento remained rooted to his spot, his serious eyes fixed on the small nameplate that bore Yu’s name and the dates of his birth and passing. The April evening grew colder, but the warmth emanating from Kento’s wool trench coat provided some comfort as you waited for him to speak.

But he didn’t. And as more minutes passed, you began to feel as if he probably never would. You observed the delicate lines of his eyebrows furrowing, the weariness painting his voice as he finally broke the silence. 

“I’m not really sure of what to say,” he admitted, his words heavy with fatigue and pain. “Is that bad?”

“No. The fact that you’re even here is more than enough, Ken,” you reassured him, but he seemed unsatisfied. His brow creased deeper, and a faint frown began to etch its way onto his face. “You can tell him about your day. Tell him about Gojo ordering three lava cakes after dinner and scarfing them down in two minutes. Tell him that Ulani is starting to eat more solid foods and how she loves yogurt but isn’t a fan of peas.” 

The small huff of laughter that you were seeking finally fell from him, puffed into the air in a warm exhale that made you feel a little less frigid. Kento looked over at you, his furrowed brow softening slightly.

“The point is, it doesn’t have to be grandiose. And I’m sure Yu would hate that you had to force yourself to speak when you weren’t ready. So…” you trailed off, adjusting Ulani in your arms so she was snugly wrapped in your wool coat, her warm body providing solace against the cold. Reaching out, you found Kento’s hand, intertwining your fingers with his. “So we can just sit here and just…be.”

He glanced down at your joined hands, his burnt-umber gaze tracing the delicate curves of your fingers. You watched as they softened when his gaze fell on the bundle sleeping in your coat, watched as his shoulders relaxed with his next exhale and his irises slid up to catch yours.

“So we can just…be. Here together. Me and you?” 

His voice was weak, revealing an exposed vulnerability that made him seem raw and open. You knew deep down that he understood you would never leave him in a moment like this, but right now, Kento needed the reassurance.

And you freely gave it, offering a gentle squeeze of his hand and a warm smile. “Me and you,” you affirmed, allowing that serious gaze, etched into your memory, to momentarily flash with resolution. It seemed as if something he had been contemplating for a long time had finally come full circle.

But the moment flickered away in an instant, replaced by Kento’s tender gesture of lifting your hand to his, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles, and giving the cold air one more weary exhale before turning his gaze back to Yu’s tree, finding solace amidst the silence.

***

Sakura season in Nakameguro was one of the most treasured in Tokyo. And you could understand why. Even though you and Kento had arrived early at the Meguro River, the streets lining the river were teeming with both tourists and locals.

Amidst the bustling crowds and long lines at every vendor you passed, the beauty of the cherry blossom trees in full bloom couldn’t be denied. Delicate white petals, emerged from their buds, and billowed in the surprisingly warm late April air. The water was still, casting a reflection of the trees that arched over it, cherry blossoms floating on top.

Growing up in Sendai, you were used to wearing a Yukata with Ome and her family for Hanami. Each year, you made an effort to find a different color, and during the times when you couldn’t buy one for yourself, Ome’s mother would kindly gift one to you, knowing your own mother didn’t bother with the tradition. 

But in Nakameguro, everyone who walked past you was dressed in casual clothes, bundled for a little extra warmth, and armed with cameras to capture the festivities. You settled for a long dress instead. Ulani, her legs kicking excitedly in the carrier strapped to Kento’s chest, donned a pink onesie designed to resemble a kimono, a thoughtful gift from Chiyo. Ulani of course, looked absolutely adorable. Her abundant light brown curls framed her face, secured by a small headband to keep them out of her eyes. Kento had insisted on taking countless photos before you even left the house and unlike most babies who made their irritation known, Ulani flourished in the attention her father gave.

At nine months old, Ulani brimmed with energy and an insatiable curiosity that made her father understandably nervous. She babbled in a string of syllables, not yet forming coherent words, but her enthusiasm was limitless. Despite her animated exclamations and her tendency to explore everything she could reach, she observed the world around her with a gaze that mirrored her father’s—sharp, serious, and seemingly indifferent, except for the frequent bursts of squeals and laughter. Just like her father. 

Meanwhile, said father was too busy exploring the food stalls to notice the intrigued gazes of everyone around him.

You wanted to be annoyed but…could you blame them? 

Kento, despite his awkwardness in social situations with unfamiliar faces, exuded nothing but sin. Sinewy legs clad in crisp slacks, accentuating his muscular frame, and a ribbed knit sweater hugged his torso in a delicious way that made your mouth water. His thick blonde locks, styled in their signature fashion, were neatly gelled, although he had once again forgone his glasses.

Too handsome for his own good but you didn’t have the energy to glare at everyone. He had freely given you more than enough in the shower that morning.

You could behave. For now.

“What was Hanami like for you in Sendai?” he asked, his voice hushed yet resonating in the bustling atmosphere around you. His gaze fixated on a skewer of Dango—an assortment of pink, green, and white as Ulani occupied herself with a sliver of banana, her sticky fingers and puckered mouth evidence of her snack.

“More traditional than this,” you replied, accepting the Dango from the vendor before turning to him. Kento’s eyes widened minutely in curiosity, his foodie nature front and center. He plucked a Dango from the stick and popped it into his mouth, savoring the sweet and chewy rice morsel that burst with flavor on his tongue. 

“Sendai has a small-town feel within a big city. During Sakura season, we wore Yukatas and Getas. We had a cherry blossom tree lighting and much fewer stalls with local goods,” you elaborated, pulling a playful grumble from Kento as he tore another piece of Dango in half and offered it to a grabby Ulani.

“So the city of Sendai gets to see you in a Yukata, and I don’t? I find that unfair,” he protested with a teasing tone, cheeks flushing slightly in a rare display of bashfulness. 

“If this is some sort of Edo-period fantasy you have, you’re gonna have to warm me up before you ask me to get kinky.”

Kento choked on a piece of Dango, sputtering and red face as he waved his hand toward you. “That’s not—"

“Nanamin!” a familiar voice called from behind you. Kento’s surprise instantly faded, already recovered from choking and face replaced by a natural annoyance as Gojo approached. Towering over the crowd, his white hair enhancing his pale complexion, Gojo was dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, simple to anyone else but still stamped with a designer label. “Don’t pout, this is a happy occasion! I always want to see you. For once, show me that you love me,” he joked, chuckling more to himself before beaming at Ulani. “And hello, my beautiful girl! How about we go find something sweet to eat?” Without hesitation, he scooped Ulani from the carrier, ignoring Kento’s grunt of disapproval. 

“Ask first, Gojo. Don’t snatch my daughter like a thief,” Kento snapped, reaching for her and blanching when Gojo pulled your daughter out of his reach.

“I’m her godfather.”

“How you equate that with permission to do what you want, is beyond me.”

Gojo turned to you, alien blue eyes seeking support that he would never find. You rolled your eyes. “Gojo, stop bothering Kento and ask before you pick up Ulani.” Handing him the diaper bag, you added, “Keep your phone on and only give her foods that we talked about. No experimenting.”

“But—”

“Would you like me to tell Ome that you no longer are the godfather to our child?” Gojo immediately frowned, his gaze resembling that of a child denied candy, before grumbling and walking away. 

Kento rolled his eyes, tightening the empty carrier closer to himself and muttering his annoyance in a way that made you hold back a snicker. 

“It’s Gojo being Gojo. He loves Ulani.”

“He’s rude,” Kento tried to argue.

“And yet, you love him.” He didn’t disagree, his cheeks ruddy in embarrassment as he sighed and fumbled with the strap of his Cartier watch. “This is your stomping ground so how about we take this small moment we both have and have some fun, hmm?” You leaned up, standing on your toes to press a warm kiss to his cheek that seemed to settle his pout. He sighed dramatically, lacing his fingers with yours, and pulled you along the street.

You both savored every moment of your time together. Most of this year, your time with one another was spent caring for Ulani or navigating the challenges and discomforts of your pregnancy. Now, with your daughter under the care of her eccentric godfather, Kento could pull you along from vendor to vendor, immersing you in the vibrant atmosphere.

He complained teasingly as you both picked through a bento, remarking how your tomagoyaki and grilled fish was far superior to what the vendor had prepared. He brought you to a small stand that sold Cherry Blossom cookies, sharing that it was a place he frequented every year during his youth. He entertained a kiss on your cheek as you snapped a picture of you both in front of the river. Later in the day, as Ome and Gojo joined you again, Kento bought the three portions of Inari Sushi, eating his portion swiftly before Gojo could sneak his hands onto the plate.

“Nanamin, stop being unfair!”

Kento couldn’t deny that he was truly enjoying himself. Even his quips to Gojo lacked its usual sharpness. Between the two of you, you always brought the most energy and liveliness. You laughed freely, indulged in every snack Kento offered you from the stalls, and unabashedly leaned into him, wrapping your arm around his and resting your head on his shoulder, cherishing his warmth as he joked with an always loud Ome. 

He was happy and content and surprised at his own luck. 

Gojo insisted on stopping at a vendor selling woven flower accessories made from fallen cherry blossoms. Gojo pulled Ome close, ignoring her protests as he demanded a bracelet be crafted in front of him before paying. Kento felt you chuckle from next to him, no doubt taking in the way Ome blushed as Gojo wrapped his arm around her, no longer caring if the action would earn violence. Because Gojo knew, deep down, that things had changed between them. And Ome knew, deep down, that violence would make him work harder.

Normally, Kento wouldn’t pay much attention to this particular vendor every year. He didn’t consider it significant because he never had someone to give a flower accessory to, and his father always bought one for his mother. But he had a reason to now. As he made to reach into his pocket for his wallet, he stopped short when he saw one of the vendors grab your wrist and pull you towards an empty chair next to the stall. 

You were a little shocked, already put off from having a person touch you freely, but you reeled in disbelief when the vendor reached for your loose curls, your head arching away from her on reflex. Kento felt anger flare in his chest, a rage he rarely felt bubbling to the surface, his mouth opening to bark at the woman to leave. However, she quickly stopped and held up a bundle of flowers, gesturing towards your hair and asking if she could weave them in.

“Would you like to go?” Kento asked you, unable to hide the fury in his eyes. “We can if you’re uncomfortable.” He watched your eyes flicker to the woman as she bowed softly in apology and you sighed softly, relaxing and offering a weak smile to the woman instead.

“I’m fine, Ken. I promise.”

It took him a minute more to be completely content with your response. But he let Gojo pull him away, across the skinny street to rest against the rail outlining the Meguro River, Kento’s eyes never leaving yours. Ulani squirmed in her carrier around his chest, fidgeting and whining in frustration as she took in the distance from you. As the woman began weaving cherry blossoms into your and Ome’s hair, you waved at your daughter from across the street, the unique bond between you tugging at your heart. 

“Mrs. Nanami always looks beautiful, doesn’t she?” Gojo remarked from beside Kento, as he pulled a piece of Dango from a skewer that mysteriously appeared in his hand. 

Always.

The word lingered on Kento’s tongue, tempted to acknowledge Gojo’s statement but knowing it would only lead to a slew of immature comments. The title he had given you wasn’t lost to Kento either, because he thought about it so frequently that it was beginning to drive him insane.

Nowadays he felt like such a fool when he stood next to you. Any other man would have gotten on their knees within months—weeks of having you as theirs and begged for more. 

And he wanted to, desperately. But if there was one thing you could do without trying, it was make him nervous. Make him sweat and shift in his shoes because he didn’t deserve you. No one did. You had chosen him, but he could be replaced at any moment despite your protests otherwise.

A vendor who had finished working on Ome’s hair walked across the street towards Kento, her hands filled with cherry blossoms. She politely asked if she could weave them into Ulani’s hair. Kento allowed it, absentmindedly caressing his daughter’s chubby cheek to keep her distracted as he watched her giggle and babble with the woman. 

The white flowers perfectly adorned her hair, creating a delicate halo against her light brown curls. Gojo showered her with compliments, leaning down to her eye level and sharing a bright smile as Ulani giggled in response.

Kento should have been paying more attention, his heart should have swelled with joy at the sight of his daughter’s happiness. But he was distracted, his voice thick in his throat. As the vendor returned to her stand, Kento took notice of you. The cherry blossoms adorning your hair seemed as if they belonged there, nestled delicately within your loose curls that he had the privilege of running his hands through time and time again. They were arranged with exquisite precision, made to look as if they floated within a sea of darkness. 

He felt it again, that same feeling that had been consuming his thoughts for months— that had blared to the point of a headache a few weeks ago as you both sat together at Yu’s tree. That heaviness in his pocket suddenly felt hot, burning the skin of his thigh, screaming at him to stop being such a coward.

Kento locked eyes with you from across the street, familiar irises that he looked at every single day that had never failed to be any less beautiful than the day before. And like he so often saw, you threw him a lift of your brow, a mischievous glint in your stare that made his chest clench and a chuckle rise from the pit of his stomach.

“Tell your daddy to set the date,” Gojo spoke to his goddaughter, earning a glare from Kento and a harsh bark to leave him alone, batting at the snickering white-haired man as he crossed the street for Ome.

***

From the moment you walked to him after having flowers woven into your hair, Kento was noticeably less talkative than before. He chalked it up to the increased traffic of people around you both, but you could see through him as always. Although his smiles and laughter remained genuine, he seemed timid and nervous.

By the time you all made it home, Ulani was exhausted and fussy. Kento volunteered to bathe her and put her to bed, leaving you alone with your anxious thoughts. You tidied up the house, neatly putting away Ulani’s toys, folding the throw blanket back onto the sofa, and walking to the backdoor to make sure it was locked. Your eyes caught the moonlight that brightened your backyard.

This year’s winter had been harsh and unforgiving, but despite its grip, Spring made the grass grow back plentiful and thick. Kento had installed a swinging bench for you soon after Ulani was born so you could sway outside with her in peace, but it’s been months since you sat yourself on it. 

But it was nice enough now, and you couldn’t resist the call of the warm evening and found yourself sliding open the door, carrying yourself towards the darkly stained bench. As you settled onto its solid surface, you began to sway gently, soaking up the silence of the air around you, the neighborhood quiet as everyone settled for sleep. 

Maybe Kento had a headache. He avoided large crowds and noise for that very reason. Stupidity and rudeness frustrated him more than Gojo at times, and he was quick to grow impatient with the desire to be in the privacy of his home with his small family. He probably put on a smile and suffered through a lot more for you to enjoy Hanami. 

Your mind was racing with thoughts and excuses to justify his shift in behavior, growing more anxious and desperate by the minute. You felt your heart give a painful lurch, your neck began to sweat, and your hands began to tremble. Those dreadful tendrils of anxiety once again began to cackle in your ears and wrap slowly around your throat.

He’s going to break up with you. He’s going to walk out here and say how he couldn’t do this anymore. He’s going to try to do whatever he could to justify his only choice to leave you. The teasing had finally gotten too much for him. The grip of fatherhood too consuming to bear and—

You were restless, shooting up from the bench and making your way to the middle of your backyard. The soft, cool grass cushioned your steps and brushed against the thin fabric of your dress as you laid down, your eyes too sensitive of the full moon but still strong enough to appreciate the faint stairs twinkling in the sky.

“Don’t be so stupid,” you whispered to yourself. “He wouldn’t leave. Not like this.”

Bending your knees and sinking your toes into the grass, you grounded yourself into the present, rooted yourself in sanity and detaching from the haunting whispers in your ears.

The sound of the backdoor sliding open momentarily caused you to tense, but you kept your gaze fixated on the sky, attempting to identify constellations with your limited knowledge of astronomy.

The big dipper? Orion’s belt? Fuck, Sagittarius?

You had never been more envious of an astronomer in this very moment as Kento sank into the grass next to you, placing the baby monitor between you both, the low hum of static breaking through the quiet air. 

“She was exhausted,” he murmured. You hummed in reply, still lost in your own thoughts and trying to figure out if the object in front of you was a star or just a trick of the light. Your distracted response pulled his attention to you. “Are you okay?”

You bit the inside of your lip, your eyes still on the stars above you. “Have I done something to upset you? After the flower vendor, you got really quiet for the rest of the day.”

He didn’t respond at first, and your heart picked up in speed from the growing silence even as he sagged on his back next to you, his eyes tracing the stars in the sky.

“I could never be upset with you.”

“Lies. If you’re going to leave me, soften the blow by giving me an orgasm first so I’m not so upset.”

He chuckled softly, a spirited smile dancing on his lips as he eyed a small cluster of stars. “Since the moment you allowed me to be involved in the pregnancy, the thought of leaving you has never crossed my mind,” he confessed. “Even on the days when we’re exhausted and we argue, or when we crave solitude, the idea of leaving you, of not having you in my life, is inconceivable to me.”

“Inconceivable?” you pestered, nudging him with your elbow. “Such strong words.”

“You tease me relentlessly, would you like me to stop speaking?�� he reproached, a smile in his voice. You bit back a laugh, choosing instead to weave your fingers between his in the space of grass between you in a silent concession to behave. “You have no idea how impossible it is for me to forget about you,” he continued. “Even when we couldn’t stand each other, you were all I thought about. I drove my mother crazy, ranting almost every day about how frustrated I was. And when the idea of becoming a father initially shocked me, knowing that it connected me to you brought me such an overwhelming satisfaction.”

Kento gave your intwined hands a squeeze.

“I’ve been in my own head these past few hours…and I’m sorry if I seemed distant with you. It’s important to me that you know that leaving you is inconceivable to me because I can’t imagine raising a child with anyone else. I can’t envision going to sleep or waking up beside anyone else. I can’t fathom a future without you by my side.”

You heart fluttered in your chest, thumping erratically against your ribcage as his words floated through the night air and landed on your cheeks. A soothing stillness settled between the two of you, as the moonlight bathed your skin and you struggled to swallow the quickly forming lump in your throat. Those tendrils of anxiety that had wrapped around you earlier suddenly dissipated, leaving only a lingering sense of love and certainty from his hand between yours.

“So what you’re saying is that you wanna grow old with me?” you playfully quipped, a smile spreading across your face. “You wanna get travel the world with me, get a bigger house and have babies? Marry me and honeymoon on an island that you always talk about?” 

You turned your head to face him, observing his flushed cheeks and slightly widened eyes as he looked up at the night sky. Though he didn’t appear afraid, that nervous expression from earlier in the day had once again returned and painted his features. You sat up immediately, scooting closer to him and furrowing your brows in worry. 

“Ken? I was only kidding. I’m sorry, I took that too far didn’t I?” 

Once again, he remained silent, a silence that stretched on for too long, intensifying your unease. But then, a strong arm wrapped around you, pulling you onto his lap so that your legs bracketed his waist. He sat up slowly, closing the distance between you both until you felt your back brush against his knees that were bent to hold you against him. 

You kept your gaze away from him, focusing on the strands of your curls that had fallen over your shoulder, decorated with the cherry blossoms from earlier. 

“I should stop teasing you so much. I’ve done it a little too much today and—”

“My love,” he interrupted, his voice gentle yet resolute, silencing your anxious ramblings. “That is what I was trying to say.” Your hands squeezed a thick chunk of your hair tightly, the soft white petals crushed against your palm as your nerves tingled with anticipation. “I do want to grow old with you. I do want to travel the world and go on adventures with you. I do want to get a bigger house. I want to one day have more children. I want every mundane activity, every birthday and holiday, everything. And yes…” His finger delicately lifted your chin, compelling you to look up at him. Your ears buzzed, the sound of your own heartbeat drowning out everything else, even though you could still hear him perfectly. “I want to marry you...and honeymoon on one of those islands that I talk so much about.”

Your eyes widened, face flushing from the heat that had bubbled beneath your cheeks, hands clutching your hair tightly to steady yourself as much as you could. 

“N-now you’re teasing,” you whispered, smiling weakly up at him, all pretense of your typical defense suddenly drained.

Serious eyes studied you, softly contemplating a variety of choices before he stood, picked you up and set you on your feet. He towered over you, his face illuminated by the moonlight, casting a pale blue glow on his sharp cheek bones and shadows through the long strands that fell over his eyebrows. His hair was no longer parted, cascading messily against his cheeks.

Reaching up, he slid a warm palm along your cheek, his thumb tracing your bottom lip. His touch was always too much and yet just enough. It made you feel as if you were drowning and also at the top of a mountain. The resolute look you had caught weeks ago, as you both sat under Yu’s tree, could still be seen in his eyes—strong and vibrant, washing over you now with a realization too overpowering for your doubts to suppress.

“I can assure you, I am in no way teasing,” he finally spoke, tender and filled with longing. He stopped tracing your lips, slid his hand along the side of your neck and down the expanse of your arm before twining his fingers once again with yours. “Maybe I should be a little more convincing.” 

The sting behind your eyes came without warning. You swallowed, attempting to push that lump again back down your throat; blinked furiously as your vision began to blur and willed your heart to keep beating as you watched him press a kiss to your knuckles before slowly sinking down on one knee into the grass. 

You brain struggled to keep up, failing to send the right signals to prevent the tears from falling, to ease the tension in your throat, to simply breathe. 

But it was no use, because after the first tear fell, the rest came without restraint. Even with his hand firmly holding yours, you felt as if you were falling. Plummeting from the night sky back into your body over and over again as he whispered your full name into the warm April air, squeezing your hand once more to tether you to him, and offering you that rarely seen gentle smile before asking you once more. 

Properly, firmly and without reservation.

“Will you marry me?”

And it was real. This was real and you were blinking down at him wildly so you could see his beautiful face clearly through your sea of tears. You couldn’t find the words to speak—no matter how many times your reply raced from your brain to your lips, you couldn’t command your mouth to move. 

So you nodded. Slowly and with a wobbly lip, you nodded. His own lips twitched with a brief smile, his eyes flashing with heavy multitudes of happiness even though he squeezed your hand again to hold you steady.

“I need you to actually say something to me…please—”

“Yes,” you whispered, shaky and croaking from your throat of its own volition. You shook out a harsh breath, smiling down at him. “Yes, I’ll marry you, Kento.”

It took him a moment too long to actually process your response before he exhaled so deeply as though the breath had been stuck in his lungs. A rare and pearly white Nanami Kento smile, brighter than the moonlight bathing his skin, shining at you as he stood up and pulled you close with a force that made you gasp, your mouth opening to let out a laugh before he captured it with a kiss. Full, deep and overpowering, his cheeks brushing against the wetness of your own, leeching oxygen from you until you had to pull away to catch your breath, lightheaded and panting against his lips. 

In your haze, you hadn’t noticed him pull a small object from his pocket, but you felt the cold metal slip onto your finger, adjusting his hand so that you could finally see. And it was beautiful, of course it was beautiful—simple yet perfectly suited for you, a blatant reminder that it would remain on your hand for the rest of your life as long as you allowed it. 

“For the first time, I’ve finally figured out what it takes to render you speechless,” he teased even though his own voice was thick with emotion. “Imagine the things I will get for you now.”

Your gut reaction was to smack him hard on the chest, relishing in the deep chuckles that reverberated from him and into the Nakameguro air. 

“Stop teasing,” you whined, sniffing pathetically as the tears began to fall again.

“My, my,” he purred, chuckling deeply and pulling you closer with strong arms around your waist. You curled your fingers into the fabric of his shirt, weakly glaring up at him without any embarrassment of the rivers running down your cheeks. “You are telling me to stop teasing? Proposing months ago would have been more beneficial for me.”

You hated being on the other end of something that you naturally dished out. In this moment, you were already vulnerable and raw for him, your chest aching and cut open and your heart pounding in the evening air. His teasing felt like icing on the cake, a lightheartedness that was rarely seen in such abundance, leaving you struggling to find your footing. Trying to fight against the fast rhythm of your heart, the overwhelming tears, and his deep laughter as he tilted your head up to look at him.

“Ken—” you tried to admonish, but once again his lips met yours, stealing the breath from your lungs. Gasping, you felt him scoop you up in his arms and carry you back inside the house. Your chest ached for air, yearning to fill your lungs with oxygen that Kento continuously stole. The heat of his fingertips digging into the skin of your thighs around his waist seared your senses, and you could taste the sudden, pungent want against the tongue that slid against yours. 

You didn’t expect to be on the ground so soon and the cool hardwood floors on your feet and your wobbly legs made you stagger backward with him, your fingers still buried in his shirt as your mouths continued to slide sloppily against one another. You gasped sharply when your hips met the countertop of your vanity, the mirror smacking against your back.

Kento wasted no time, and you felt like you were burning with his touch, catching on fire with every grab against your skin and hiss of breath along the wetness of your lips. Hot hands were suddenly hiking up your dress, digging into the meat of your inner hips and tracing sinfully along the seam of your panties. 

You only had a moment to breathe, only a second to get your bearings as he pulled away and swiftly removed your dress, sliding his hands behind you to deftly unfasten your bra, and scooping you up again before throwing you onto your bed. 

You blinked up at him in shock, your breath catching in your throat as you took in his heated expression at the foot of the bed. He was always a passionate lover, always vocal about his desire to have his hands on you—but the expression directed at you now was carnal, so incredibly carnal that your cunt throbbed in response, sliding against the steadily moistening spot of the fabric that covered it. 

Kento had promised himself he would be calm; he had so much planned in his head if you would have accepted him. Truly he thought he would have cried—because he’s that type of man.

But the moment you said yes, the moment he slid that ring on your finger and could see a booming sign that you were his, all sense of decorum had evaporated from his body immediately.

He had thrown caution to the wind, driving him to yank off his shirt and practically rip his zipper as he pushed down his pants and underwear. He hissed softly from the feel of cool air hitting his cock, hot and heavy and leaking precum already. Without your usual words of impatience, he used your moans instead as his guide, fueling his courage as he trailed a wet tongue up the thickness of your thighs, dipping into your belly button and around the underside of your breast before encircling a peaked nipple once—twice before pulling it into his mouth. Your hands were tight in his hair, your body arching in exquisite anticipation, drawing your breasts further into his eager mouth as he licked, sucked and bit at the sensitive skin. 

You could only nod when he reached for your panties moments later and you didn’t shy away from the way your thighs trembled as he pulled them down your legs, his mouth salivating at the sight of slick catching against your inner thigh. The heat between your legs hit him first, his cock throbbing in automatic response, his mouth swallowing drool as he stared at your exposed cunt, wet and dripping for him. 

You had never met a man who took joy in eating you out. They did it to get you ready or because it was expected. But not Kento—god, not Kento. You’re the best thing he would ever have. His last meal. That first drink after being stranded in a desert. He did it because he loved it and wasted no time yanking your hips to him and throwing your legs over his shoulders before he was feasting—savoring the taste of your cunt and the sound of your moans as you arched your hips closer to him. 

You keened, pulling hard against his tresses as he sank two fingers inside of you down to the knuckle, delving deep in a rhythm that sent tingles of pleasure crawling up your legs and to the base of your spine. Your body trembled, your chest heaving in an effort to catch your breath as he took his pleasure and gave yours tenfold, three fingers deep and his tongue on your clit. 

“Look how pretty you are,” he whispered, his eyes fixated on the mesmerizing sight of his fingers gliding in and out of you, shiny with slick and making a sound that had his eyes rolling into his head and his hips pressing into the mattress for friction. “So fucking pretty, baby,” he praised, his thumb pressing against your pulsing clit, igniting another surge of pleasure that made your breath catch around a sharp whine in your throat. 

“Kento,” you moaned for him, your voice beckoning and desperate, eyes clenched tight and pleasure coiling into a ball in your belly. He answered your call like always, sliding back up your body, his lips hovering over yours and beautiful blond har falling to brush against your forehead. 

“She speaks,” he teased, arching his fingers inside of you for good measure and marveling at the way you twitched and whined in response. “You normally keep me on my toes. Yet you’re so quiet now. Choked up and whiny and moaning. That’s not like you.” It was exactly like you, especially when you’re chasing an orgasm. But at this point, you realized Kento would use anything to tease you, so blissfully happy and desperately thrumming with want. 

“You like the way I’m fingering you, baby?” 

You blinked up at him in disbelief, your ears not used to him teasing in moments like this. 

“Are you going to answer me?” voice darker now, still joyful but less patient.

You nodded profusely in response, panting up at him as the coil of an orgasm began to tighten at the small of your back. Your thighs quivered, your fingers tightening into the pillow aside your head. 

No other man could compare to Kento’s touch. The thought of anyone else’s fingers trailing over your skin, sliding inside you in a way that drove you to the brink, seemed unfathomable. He was the only one who could make you moan like you were being paid for it, like you were now. The only one who could hit every spot with just a simple graze until he could take you higher and higher, until your moans became tight and shaky, and your body clenched around his fingers, surrendering to a back-arching orgasm that sent waves of pleasure coursing through every inch of your being. 

You barely had a moment of reprieve before he kissed you again, stealing what little breath remained in your mouth as you tried to come down from that blissful high. His fingers slowly slid out of you, rubbed your clit gently while his lips trailed down your neck, licking the sweat from your skin. 

“May I have you?” he whispered against your skin, the deep timbre of his voice oozing with velvety wickedness that made you shudder against him.

“I…” you croaked, the words straining from your throat, your body aching and yearning for more of his touch even though you were sensitive all over. 

When thin rings of burnt-umber eyes came into view, the gaze was brimming with want, yet tender as he traced the contours of your face. Reaching for your left hand, he interlaced your fingers with his own, guiding your hand to his lips. He pressed a soft kiss to each knuckle, each gesture filled with love and affection, before brushing his lips against the precious stone adorning your ring finger. Your eyes locked onto the gleaming jewel, the dim light of your room reflecting off the carats and once again stirring a sharp breath in your chest and a hint of moisture behind your eyes. 

“Are you having second thoughts?” he asked, his gentle smile masking the unfamiliar mirth in his tone. “Should I have waited longer?”

“No,” you whispered wetly, offering your smile in exchange. Blinking away tears, your vision cleared enough to gaze at him more intently. You tightened your grip against his hand, the cool metal pulling your finger to remind you of its presence. “I’m happy…so happy.” 

You brushed blonde locks from where they hung, admiring the way they pulled back and then flopped back into place. Every part of him that wasn’t poised and perfect in public was raw and unfiltered with you, its own treasure chest—its contents sacred and beautiful—that only you had the key to open.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, drawing him closer and gasping softly as you felt him press to your entrance, hot and leaking with precum. 

“I’ve just been at a loss of words,” you admitted.

“Am I that charming?” He raised a dark blonde brow, his slightly tense expression from being pressed against your heat giving him a sinfully enticing look that made your slick cunt throb. That oversensitivity was still there, but not as insistent, not as sharp and weak enough so pleasure could slink back in front. 

You used your heels against his lower back to push him inside of you, inhaling sharply from the sudden stretch as he intruded the warmth of your body. He waited for you to relax, whispering soft praises against the skin of your lips as he fought the impossible urge to snap his hips into you. 

“You just proposed,” you shook, moaning softly when he finally began to move steadily within you. Your cunt flexed around him, relaxed enough to welcome him further and then gripped with a pressure that made your stomach coil in heat. Your body was already loose and pliant from your first orgasm, so it was easy for him to brush against those spots inside of you that seemed to fan gentle flames back to life again. “O-of course I would be at a loss of words. You’re not that charming.”

It was a jest filled with delight that you were used to delivering to him, even in the blaze of heat.

But he hummed in reproach, sliding a hand into the hair at your nape, pulling back sharply to expose more of your skin to him. You signed up for that. Walked right into it. And then you paid for it when his other hand gripped your hips, tilted them upwards to sink further into you, the skin of his abs suddenly able to brush against your clit. 

You choked on a moan, biting your lip to stifle your voice, and dug your nails into his back. He clicked his tongue disapprovingly, a sharp tsk before you felt him use the grip in your hair to angle your gaze to his. 

“Don’t lie to me when I’m fucking you, beautiful girl.” 

Oh god.

Your cunt fluttered in response, your body shaking from his words and thrusts, a whimper squeaking from your throat. 

He smiled softly in response, slanting his lips against yours and making a home in your mouth as you struggled to keep up with his rhythm. Between the fluid thrusts of his hips, the thick cock stretching your cunt, and your clit tingling with each smack of skin against it, you were lightheaded—mind swimming as he showered you again with that overwhelming intensity of his affection. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered in awe as he looked down at you. His forehead already had a light sheen of sweat, and your eyes traced along the soft hairs that began to cling to his hairline. You trailed your hands from his back, sliding them down the muscular planes of his chest and in between the spaces of his abs before your eyes fell on the mesmerizing motion of his hips, his cock working you in and out—thick and glistening—accompanied by the sound of his ragged breath above you.

“Look at me,” he demanded, voice low and serious, pulling your gaze to him immediately to take in his wild expression. Thin rings of burnt-umber crazed, wet lips slightly parted, a ruddy color on his cheeks, and a subtle crease in his brow as he tried to focus. “Good girl. Perfect. Eyes on me. Never look away from me, do you understand?” You nodded sharply at his demand, electrifying pleasure zinging up and down your spine from his words. Your voice was stuck in your throat, too tight to speak but loose enough to let every wanton moan fall through as his pace began to pick up and his strokes began to deepen. He shook his head, more to himself and panting harshly as he opened his mouth to speak. “I want to be gentle and—”

“Give me everything,” you interrupted, scratching against the tightness of your throat and curling around a whine as the whispers of a second orgasm began to echo in your ears. “Give it all to me Kento, please.”

Suddenly, Kento was bending your knees towards your chest, pushing down hard with his lips against yours and pumping into you with an intensity that made your toes curl and you yelp into his mouth. His cock was making a home inside of you, brushing upwards into sensitive spots that made you keen, rubbing his pelvic bone hard against your clit so that you could do nothing but moan shamelessly into his mouth. 

Vaguely you were thankful that Ulani wasn’t older. That she wasn’t aware enough to wake up in curiosity in the middle of the night from sounds that sounded odd to her and to ask you the next morning why mommy was begging.

It wasn’t long until the heat in your stomach had become too much, a gentle warmth now a raging inferno, coiling and bubbling with pleasure that made your thighs tense against the pressure of his hands that pressed them down to your chest. Your pussy throbbed—pulsed and squeezed him in warning, your breath becoming a staccato of a melody that he had memorized so well as you dug crescent moons into his back.

“Am I going to make you cum?” he panted before the words could escape your lips.

“Yes!” you squeaked, tense like a rubber band, taut and gasping beneath him. He brushed wet lips against your own and trailed them down your neck before licking the salty skin in a way that had you stuttering against the punctuation of his thrusts.

“Who’s going to make you cum?” he hissed along the column of your neck.

“You—you Kento!” He groaned softly from your response, a moan carrying along the undercurrent of his panting as you squeezed tighter and tighter around him. You had no time to warm him because suddenly your body was pulling tight, your muscles twitching in response and your back arching as that coil unraveled quickly inside your stomach, exploding to shoot pleasure inside of you hot and overwhelming. You bit your lip as you moaned with your orgasm, your cunt thrumming with the hammering in your chest.

“That’s my good girl. Take everything you want,” he whispered into your neck, kissing the burning skin as you came down from your high.

His thrusts slowed to a stop, offering a short break in intensity as you took in the panting of both your bodies. He released his hold on your legs, leaning down to brush soft lips against your own, bleeding love and anticipation into your mouth before he pulled you up onto your hands and knees, the coolness of the sheets offering a refreshing cushion to your sweaty skin.

You bit past the overstimulation when you felt him slide inside you again; even though you were satisfied and lax from an orgasm, every nerve in your body felt as if it had been exposed to the open air. You trembled against him—shuddered from the feel of his large hands sliding from your shoulder blades and down your back before they dug into the flesh of your hip. He gave you no warning, thrusting once, twice, and then a third time before falling back into the same steady rhythm as before. 

Fighting against overstimulation was always a challenge at first, it was sharp and almost impossible to push through, but you always held onto that faint glimmer of pleasure each time. And slowly, with each brush of his cock against that spongy spot inside of you, that overstimulation got softer and softer, more malleable for you to push past to take root of pleasure as your breath quickened and your skin began to overheat.

The press of his lips between your shoulder blades felt like a cool balm to your hot skin that made you sigh, your back arching slightly, your head leaning back towards the ceiling as your cunt throbbed around his penetrating girth. 

“Stunning,” he whispered and then carded a hand your hair so you could finally open your eyes and take in the mirror of your vanity in front of you. 

He was behind you, with sweaty skin and a muscular torso undulating with every thrust, his hair disheveled, his eyes heavy with want and determination. And there you were on your hands and knees, sweaty creamy brown skin, full breasts swaying with each press of his hips, curls loose and frizzy and still adorned with cherry blossoms that had begun to fall onto the sheets where your fingers were bunched. 

“Look how beautiful you are, darling,” he leaned down to whisper in your ear, his eyes locked with yours in the mirror. You both had done this so many times before. You had gotten used to looking at yourself in the mirror when he fucked you. The mortification of looking at yourself moaning and dazed wasn’t as prominent as it used to be. But the sight of his serious gaze always took a moment to adjust to. “So beautiful. The mother of my child. The only woman I will ever love. My fiancé.”

You moaned at his words and tightened around him, instantly lighting a fire in your veins that made your heart pump faster, made your skin tingle, and made the shreds of exploded pleasure in your belly from your last orgasm curl back into itself to form a ball again.

“My fiancé,” he whispered again, kissing along your shoulder, biting against the saltiness of your skin. He was losing himself, sinking further into delirium and salaciousness as his thrusts grew sharper, his grip on your waist tightened, and his teeth began to dig into every expanse of skin he could reach. You welcomed the pain, welcomed the sight of red blooming on your skin in the mirror that would darken over time.

“Kento—” you began to say, throat dry.

“Say it,” he demanded, leaving no room for argument as he emphasized his request with a powerful thrust. 

“Your fiancé,” you whispered back, shuddering from the words on your tongue, whimpering against the increased onslaught of his hips and yelping when you felt coarse fingertips reach down to rub your clit. You were going to cum, it was unavoidable with every stroke of his cock against that spongy wall inside of you. You just needed more. More of his thrusts. More of his fingers stroking your clit. More of his voice in your ear.

Pulling you out of your thoughts, he adjusted your position so that the mirror only showed the side profile of your bodies, giving you a better view of the rivulets of muscle on his side and his thick cock shiny from slick as he railed you into the mattress. He pressed against your shoulder blades, your body giving with his touch so you could relax your chest into the sheets and arch your back. The sight made his eyes roll into the back of his head before he turned your head so your gaze was forced to look at your reflection in the mirror.

“Say it again.”

“Your fiancé,” you moaned softly, your thighs beginning to tremble from the force of his thrusts and the circle of his fingers on your clit. You fluttered around him, gushing slick onto his cock as your walls tightened from the force of one final orgasm that was leeching from your skin. And soon it was right there, right there and hot and loud and—

“Oh Ken, I’m close. I’m gonna cum!”

He moaned, a sound so rare that it somehow made the orgasm grow stronger, his hips thrusting against that spot that was screaming for more. “I feel you baby. Let it out, take what you want. Cum on my cock for me, love.”

You moaned wantonly, arching your back more so that he could hit you deeper, sharper, fluid and firm against your g-spot over and over and over until it all happened at once. That one stroke against your walls, that final harsh roll of his fingers on your clit, that drip of sweat from his hair onto your back, the ethereal sight of crushed cherry blossoms in your hair, and the flicker of your ring in the mirror had you furrowing your brow—opening your mouth and hiccupping on a gasp as your orgasm washed over you. You were lightheaded with pleasure, delirious as you moaned through the electrifying buzz in your stomach.

Your body was taut like a wire, cunt like a vice and gushing around his cock even as he dug through your sudden grip to claim an orgasm of his own. 

Maybe it was the frequency of these encounters or simply your own uninhibited nature after you had been fucked to orgasm a few times in one sitting, but as you panted through gasping moans, watching your body slide back and forth on the sheets from his relentless thrusts, your throat took on a life of its own.

“Cum inside of me,” you whimpered, tightening your fingers in the sheets as you watched him loll his head back in satisfaction from your words. “Please, please, please Kento. Give me your cum…fill me up!”

Kento cursed harshly from behind you, leaning down to bite at the skin between your shoulder blades, and in the mirror you watched him give you three more strokes before his eyes rolled back, his jaw went slack, and his fingers dug into your hips as he groaned deep and shook as he spilled inside of you.

He collapsed against you, his breath warm and inviting as he whispered a soft ‘I love you’ against the back of your neck before apologizing from his weight. From the way his body shook, he probably wouldn’t be able to move anytime soon. But you didn’t mind; it grounded you into the present—brought your soul slowly back into your body.

The puffs of his breath against your skin was comforting, and the feeling of him softening inside you was an odd sensation that you welcomed. As you glanced at the mirror, your heart skipped a beat at the sight of his form against yours. 

You were flushed and sweaty. Your cheek was pressed and pillowed against the sheets. Your hair frizzy and tangled with white petals. He turned his head, pressing his ear to your shoulder blade, his face away from you in the mirror. Yet, you could still take in the beautiful messiness of his hair, the sharp perfection of his undercut, and the quick rise and fall of his muscular torso. That satisfying ache began to bloom deep within your bones, a delicious aftermath of being thoroughly and expertly fucked that only Kento knew how to deliver. 

Your eyes followed the movement of his hand on your hips, watched as it slid up the sheets before settling on top of your left hand. His fingers intertwined with yours, curling both your hands into a tight fist. In the mirror, the flicker of your ring stood out brightly, and as your vision began to blur again with tears, your mouth curled into a gentle smile. 

“Love, you have to take it off before bed.”

“No,” you responded firmly, your eyes fixated on the ring on your finger. You were too tired for a shower, and Kento just as exhausted, skipped his usual aftercare routine with you this time, opting instead to clean you up, put a shirt on you, and throw your bonnet on your head.  “What’s the harm in wearing it to bed?”

“There are risks,” he began, voice leaking indifference as he lay next to you, his cheek pressed into his pillow as he shot a naturally narrow gaze at you. “Injury and—”

“Compile a PowerPoint presentation and submit it to me. I’m too tired to hear excuses.”

He chuckled harshly, gravely with the beginnings of sleep. He pulled you close, breathing in your scent as you rested your cheek against the warmth of his naked chest. The room fell into silence, minutes stretching out as Kento’s eyes grew heavy under the thick curtain of his hair.

“Ken?” you called out softly. He hummed, stroking a thumb down your back to let you know he was listening. “Can we have a small wedding?”

“We can have whatever you wish.” 

His response made warmth blossom in your chest, your heart thrumming sharply as you traced your finger along the stone on your finger. “I don’t talk to my mother’s side of the family. And after my father died before my birth, my mother cut off his entire side. I don’t really have anyone besides Ome and Rory. But I know you have lots of family and I want them to be there. But it doesn’t have to be too big. I have modest savings but I don’t want to overdo it—”

“My love,” he interrupted, his eyes closed but thumb still stroking your back. “Our families will be there. Our friends will be there. We can have the wedding wherever you want, whenever you want. I have more than enough money for you, me, Ulani, and her grandchildren. As long as I get to officially make you mine, you will want for nothing.”

You swallowed hard, unable to hold back the small smile that formed on your lips as his words echoed in your mind.

“Are you trying to flex your bank account, Kento? I know you have a couple mil stored away, but try not to brag.”

His laughter filled the room, loud and sharp, his pearly white smile shining down at you as he opened the eye not pushed into his pillow to gaze at you. His chest shook from his laughter, hands pulling you impossibly closer to his warmth.

“Stop teasing and let me love you.”

You didn’t bother to fight the blush that had erupted on your cheeks from his effortless words. It was like a second skin to him, to love you so thoroughly. 

“There has to be something you want,” you tried to pry from him, eyes widening in delight when he let out a dramatic sigh against you.

He was silent for a minute, then another, and yet another to the point where you were convinced he had fallen asleep when— 

“I will pay the most for the food. It better be good enough to lick the plate when I’m finished.” You rolled your eyes but giggled as you draped your arm around his waist. “I won’t dance. I’ll have a first dance with you and my mother but nothing more.”

“Not if I get you drunk enough,” you teased.

“No.”

You grunted in playful frustration against him before falling silent again, the gentle static of Ulani’s baby monitor filling the room. Your eyes drifted back to your ring, unable to tear your gaze away.

“Ken?” you called out softly, voice weak and reluctant.

He chortled into the silk of your bonnet, clearly tired but too content to reject you. “Yes, my love.”

“Who helped you pick it out?”

“Are you suggesting that I couldn’t have chosen it without any help?” he asked, slightly affronted and delivering a pinch to your side even though he was chuckling again for what felt like the nth time that night.

“Did your father help?” you asked, not bothering to dignify his last question with a response. “What about Yuji?”

“Yuji means well, but he doesn’t know what a carat is, love. I picked it out. Go to sleep.”

You pursed your lips, considering your next option. “Geto?”

“He doesn’t know you that well. Love, enough with the questions,” he pleaded.

“Gojo then?”

The mere mention of his name made him smack the skin of your ass, a lively shriek shaking around a laugh that escaped from your lips. He grabbed onto the stinging flesh, yanking you closer before leaning down to swallow your giggles. It stole your breath and you curled your fingers against the skin of his chest to anchor yourself. His lips were firm, insistent, and final before he pulled away, giving you a lighthearted glare.

“I picked out the ring. No one else. If you ever breathe Gojo’s name after I’ve had an orgasm, I might just leave you. Now go to bed.” 

You rolled your eyes up at him, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before relaxing back into your pillow. He settled back into his own and you traced over the handsome features of his bedhead, closed eyes, and puckered lips before they were opening to call out your name.

“Yes?” you responded, fingers tracing idly around a pink nipple. He shuddered from your touch.

He opened his eye, deep irises taking you in; the softness of your skin, the old t-shirt on your body, the black silk of your bonnet, and the sliver of a curl that poked from the side, a white petal tangled in the strand.

“I love you.”

And you whispered it back to him free of mirth this time and filled with an affection that only he would ever have.

***

Luck was on his side. It wasn’t as crowded as he walked with you and Ulani the next day. The air was still warm even for late April. His courage seemed to have multiplied overnight, probably from your acceptance of his proposal or maybe just because you made him feel stronger with your presence alone.

When he settled on the grass, folded his legs, and sunk his fingers into the freshly cut blades, his throat was tight, but loose enough to let him breathe. The grass slid against the sides of his knuckles as he took a deep breath.

“You can tell him about your day.”

“I went for a run this morning,” Kento spoke, immediately annoyed with himself but using your words in his head to press on. “Broke my four-mile record. Then I had breakfast with my family. And I came here, and I…” his voice wavered, a sting in his eyes catching him off guard. “Kaya is doing well. She’s smiling more. Geto is taking care of her, and Aiko is a fierce whirlwind just like you. She’s thriving. We’re making sure of it.”

“Tell him that Ulani is starting to eat more solid foods and how she loves yogurt but isn’t a fan of peas.”

“Ulani came on July 15th. She has my eyes and y/n’s hair and gets into everything she can grab. She’ll be speaking actual words soon, and I…I wish you could have met her. She’s beautiful, and laughs as loud as her mother and takes in the world just like me. She loves yogurt and she hates peas. She’s growing up so fast. And you should have been here. You should have—” Kento’s voice trailed off as he tightly shut his eyes, so tight that the sting of tears he had forced away collected at the edge of his lashes.

“I should be angry with you,” Kento started again, a trace of frustration seeping into his tone before he pushed it aside and took a deep breath. “I was angry with you. But as usual, I can never stay mad at you. I hate it. I hate how you make me see and then die so I can’t throttle you…But if it weren’t for her, I wouldn’t have done a thing. If it weren’t for her, I would have burned the deed and never looked back. But she redid the floors, painted the walls, and put your plants back. That stupid plant in your office is still alive and that stupid Fiddle Leaf is larger than ever. It will be a pain to maintain.” 

He drew in a shallow breath, exhaling the bitterness from the pit of his belly into the warm air as his heart settled into a normal rhythm from beating too fast in anger.

“But she made your sweet bread. Batch after batch, until she got it right, and it tasted just like yours. She made a personalized menu and created an ad and it’s not fair that you won’t be here to witness the reopening in a few months. It’s not fair…” he trailed off again, emotions flaring inside of him, choking him and making him stop short to take a deep breath and then another as he blinked away the faint tears in his eyes. “But I hope you can see Ulani while she grows. I hope you can see how happy I am…how happy y/n makes me. How much I love her.” 

Jagged shards of his grief cut the inside of his chest with each breath he took, just as raw as that first day, just as painful. But they were closing up at a faster pace, healing quickly enough to make the pouring sadness from the open wounds feel less overwhelming.

I miss you. I’m sorry we fought that day. Forgive me.

He wanted to say it, he did. But his throat was too tight—he wasn’t ready. And that’s okay. You had shown him, with patience and a forgiving air, that it was okay not to be ready. But one day he would be. And until then, he could say what came to mind, or simply sit in silence and just…be.

A few moments passed, the breeze swirling around him, picking up in intensity before he spoke up again. 

“I also came to say…that I’m engaged. It took me months to gather the courage to propose, and she broke the rules of every manual on how to do things properly. But it finally happened during Sakura season…and she had cherry blossoms in her hair…and was trying to tell a joke as usual.” He smiled softly to himself, relaxing the tension of his grip on the grass, faint memories echoing in his mind.

“If you don’t change your hairstyle, all the girls will think you’re an emo boy. And you’ll grow to be an emo man with an emo life and—”

“Enough. My hair is fine and it takes more than hair to build a relationship.”

“You’ll be fifty before you even get engaged.”

“Who do you take me for?”

“An old man.”

“I’m leaving.”

“Fine! If you wind up engaged before thirty-five, I’ll give you twenty bucks.”

“Fifty.”

“Deal!”

Kento rolled his eyes. “I didn’t forget about our bet in high school. You owe me fifty dollars. I’ll be sure to collect my winnings from Kaya when I see her.” The corners of his lips twitched, the smile threatening to grow wider as he listened to himself.

There was nothing more he could say. While his throat was no longer tight, more words eluded him, and he wouldn’t force them. He had a lifetime to share more. 

“All done?” your voice called from next to him, pulling him out of his thoughts. He looked up at you, your unwavering gaze a source of strength and resilience. Ulani was strapped to your chest, her legs kicking freely, a teething toy in her mouth and a beanie on her head to protect her from the wind. Her curious eyes took in the towering trees around her before settling on her father, a wide smile spreading across her face. 

In that moment, the weight of grief washed away, those jagged shards of pain slowly mending to the point that he could breathe again. He stood up, ready to join you and you watched him look down at the small nameplate in front of Yu’s tree. The air was still, an eerie calmness that made Kento feel as if the shift in the breeze was Yu throwing that stupid mischievous smirk in his direction from the sight of his best friend and his new family.

Kento wasn’t a spiritual man, but some part of him believed that Yu could see him and his family, that he could see Kaya and his daughter, and that he would be happy with the way you turned the bakery around. 

Part of Kento believed it. He had to believe it. Yu was too powerful of a person to fade away with his ashes that rested in the soil beneath his tree.

So, he took that belief with him, tucked it deep down within his chest as he interlaced his fingers with yours and felt the cool metal of your ring against his skin.

“Did he respond?” you asked him, nudging his arm softly with your elbow. He looked down at you before pressing a fond kiss to your lips, smiling against you when he felt his daughter pull at his coat. He pulled away and then leaned down to press a series of kisses to Ulani’s cheek, her curls brushing against his nose as she squealed in her own laughter, satisfied with the attention and babbling for more.

Giving your hand a gentle squeeze, he offered his silent answer to your question, one you had asked a few times before. And he smiled, that special smile reserved only for you, before leading you away from Yu’s tree and back along the streets of Nakameguro. 

[obsidianpen]

I ADORE YOU

Weres my vape boo?

Saying spend too much time who?

You’re best mom, whoo!

Um u don’t have to post this but I just wanted to say I grew up with a stay at home mom and it was the greatest thing in the world. My mom had four kids in 6 years and somehow found time to watch the sopranos full series. And I wish she had more time! Like she was the hardest working most beautiful women ever and all I wish now that I’m an adult is that she had more fun because I got enough of her. Not that I’m upset I had sm time with her bc she was the bestest part of my childhood but every mom deserves time for themselves. I love my dad and he worked so hard to supply the family with money. But my mom worked tiredlessly to make sure that money was enough for medical care, food, home needs, school, etc. She made sure every dime was well spent while when she asked by dad to go get food he’d pick up 6 Pringle cans and a bag of onions. She is an extremely talented women who during her middle 40s stopped realizing that (she was also in the art field). Idk that one commenter really made me be like wtf (no hate i think they meant well) Because pls pls pls never loose ur love for writing. Not even for my own benefit, but bc I love woman who are dedicated to their interests. Because moms are the hardest working most important individuals (you are literally creating and then raising the next generation) and because moms deserve to have a life outside of their kids and husbands. I think moms are the most important people in society and I’m proud of anyone who can just call themselves a mom.

Sorry for the rants, you don’t need to respond I just wanted to say I love my mommy despite all her faults. Girl idk your faults but u seem like a good person which makes you a good mom and kids r so resilient. I don’t remember anything other than the fact that my mom tried. And that’s what’s most important. If moms loose sight of their interests (which happened to my mom), when their kids are older, they won’t know what to do with themselves. Normalize women not becoming an extension of their husband (not that I would ever suggest this happened to you but I just think it happens too often) Again sorry for the rant, I just hate the way society views women as baby carriers and nothing else. WOMAN DESERVE HOBBIES! So never ever ever feel bad about taking time to write. My sibilings and I always encourage our mom to draw and express herself and wished she did it more.

well this was an interesting rant/post!

To be clear, and i know you weren’t saying this was true of me, but it should be said - I have never once viewed myself as an extension of my husband, so no worries there, lol. As for being a stay at home mom… I did go back to work nearly full time for a bit, and it was rough. We moved across the country so he could take a job so I could be home with Bebe. It was a choice we both agreed on. I personally love being home with him. This is a season of life; I’m basking in it.

I’ve never felt guilty for taking time to write. Granted, i do it almost exclusively when he’s asleep, but still.

I think some reframing can be helpful. I don’t view myself as an extension of anyone, but at this stage in his life, I sort of view my Bebe as an extension of me, if anything. He’s still so young that he needs me 24/7 (even when he playing independently, can’t take your eyes off these guys for a mo). And that’s fine. Bebes are only bebes once. I don’t know any parent who’s ever looked back and said, gosh I wish I would have spent less time being present with my kiddos when they were young!

I’m also not someone who would ever have to worry about ‘what to do with myself’ when my kid gets older. I have plenty of ‘hobbies’ and look forward to being able to pick things like glass up again. However. I would wager that any mom/parent etc that finds themself at a loss for what to do with their time later in life got that way because hobbies were a luxury they could not afford to have while doing all the child rearing and domestic labor and perhaps also working a job job. Yes, women - and everyone - deserve to have hobbies. But no one needs to be guilted for not being able to maintain them in a society as demanding as ours when you are simply trying to be a good parent and make ends meet. You say you ‘encouraged (I assume this was meant to be past tense, as in during your childhood as well) her to draw more.’ I might be making some unfair assumptions here, but maybe she could have if someone else was helping her? Encouragement does not do the dishes, clean the house, do the laundry, make the meals, get the groceries, take the kids from here to there, run the errands, blah, blah, blah, blah. I’m sorry but I really disliked the way that was worded! It implied that if was your moms fault for not keeping up with drawing, despite being ‘encouraged.’ I bet she wishes she could have done it more too, but I also bet that when she had to make the choice between ‘get shit done’ or ‘quality time with kids’ or ‘draw’, she chose option one or two most of the time.

as for me, I love drawing too, and I can’t WAIT until my kid can draw. Some of my fondest memories with my dad were when we had ‘drawing contests’ and would sit and draw the same thing together, sometimes for hours (strangely, I always ‘won’). My dad was no artist mind, but it was fun, and it’s where I started to learn to really look at things. I’m super excited to be able to teach my kid how to draw when he’s young. This Bebe is going to know how to cross hatch and shade with charcoal before kindergarten haha!

So I guess I’ve just responded to your rant with some ranting of my own! Sorry if I’m super off base with any of my comments. I think we should normalize letting moms - and all parents - make the choices they want to make that’s best for them and their family.

[fourmula1]

I'm sure someone has asked before but how did established relationship Maxiel handle Daniel leaving Red Bull? I adore the way you write them ❤️

ohhh how delightful to receive this! I haven't written about them in awhile.

honestly i think it was kind of bad. max was incredibly hurt that daniel was leaving the team, leaving him as a teammate, and ultimately figured that daniel wanted to leave him as a boyfriend also. how could daniel still want to be romantically involved if he was leaving the team? leaving the team because of max?

daniel tried to explain that he didn't want to break up but he couldn't be with red bull anymore professionally because he had other goals and dreams. it was hard and messy for daniel, too, because he loves max the person, but max the teammate made things hard.

i think they probably took some time apart; max had a really hard time reconciling the idea that daniel could still love him but not want to be teammates. in his mind he couldn't get past that. how could daniel leave red bull because of him, but still want to be in a relationship?

i'd say it wasn't miscommunication because daniel tried to be as clear as he could with his intentions. he loves max. wants to be with max, still wants to go home with max every day. but max really couldn't separate his personal life from his work life. he's still so young and has growing and maturing to do, and the first few days and nights after daniel telling max what he was doing were really hard. lots of arguing, and talking into the night, and lots of crying on both parts, and max being unable to understand or accept that they could still be together through this.

daniel went back to his apartment. he never officially moved out of his place and into max's but one day he'd just... stopped going home. now being 'home' feels foreign because there's no max, no cats, just cold empty loneliness.

they never truly broke up or had that 'this is over' conversation but they spent a few weeks apart over summer break, trying to pretend to their friends like they weren't absolutely miserable, and being unable to tell their friends and families why. they're not really out to anyone but their trainers, who were really in the need to know category.

daniel's first year at renault was rough on both him and max relationship-wise. during summer break they could pretend everything was mostly the same, and they agreed to try to work through it and be together through the season. max was trying his best but he was still sad, still hurt, still feeling such conflict inside about how he could feel that daniel loves him but also believe that somehow he must not if he left red bull. it's always been hard for max to separate work and personal life, because driving has been his life for all of it.

i think ups and downs for that first year were common. times where they'd agreed to be together and get back to their lives together, and times where max's confidence was just shaken. he'd tried so, so hard to be brave and make his feelings known to daniel in the first place. he'd made his first move when he was just barely nineteen and been rejected spectacularly; embarrassed and heartbroken, but determined nonetheless. he'd waited for daniel to be okay with their age difference. pretended everything was cool for an entire year until he was twenty and daniel couldn't argue he was a kid, anymore. he'd waited, and tried so hard to be chill. he'd never committed himself like this to anything but racing, before. daniel had been it for him. two years together and he'd never so much as glanced at another man - devoted and in love and obsessed with daniel.

it devastated max to have daniel go to another team, and not be together all the time anymore. what if daniel met someone else? what if daniel realized he was wasting his time with max - too young, too focused, too obsessed with being the best, too immature. what if he found someone else, more his age, more exciting, interested in more things than racing. then what?

so. yeah. that first year was rough. max had to work hard on his own confidence in their relationship. it wasn't that he didn't trust daniel, it was mostly that he worried daniel would realize max wasn't all that special. he had to work hard on understanding that daniel could, and did, still love max despite not wanting to be on the same team anymore.

it wasn't easy and they had lots of fights, and tears, and hard talks, but i think when 2020 hit that made them really have to sort it out for good. lockdowns and shutdowns meant nothing but time together to work it out.

and they did! it might have taken a year of ups and downs, back and forth, together and apart at times, but they slowly got there. were committed to each other. and max figured it out. he still never wanted daniel to leave red bull. he still wishes daniel hadn't. but max is slowly learning that work and life don't have to be the same thing. he's learning.

it'll be six years for them this fall. six years. nearly a quarter of max's life. they survived 2019. they'll survive anything.

[techforevil]

April 2025

ngl it's been a rough month

Work / general

This doesn't really hit when you already know the next week is gonna be even worse fwiw. 💖

A long weekend is nice but it'd be better if things did not just get squished into four days.... The post-easter was particularly tough including being told of a quite challening meeting the same day on Tues, a few people around me struggling with physical and mental health, still dealing with reporting and actions after downtime at the end of the previous week, some organisational wobbles caused by work straddling several portfolios, someone falling foul of a pretty major policy which I had to deal with and more.

I guess I mostly feel guilty instead of tired. I can recognise it's not _entirely_ rational and I still recognised when someone was trying to unjustly guilt trip me so it can't be that bad?? 🫠

I enjoyed this blogpost about stand-ups. The tendency to make them a report to manager is my number one pet peeve I think. I had a lot of fun with them during my last gig at GDS especially, I wish I could exhume that energy again...

The mortgage offer paperwork I'd have to do is stopping me from doing some really dumb stuff to the point that I'm in two minds whenever I think of chasing solicitors.

Let's not forget it was also a very big month for some really stupid and evil people. : )

I did have a fantastic swim on Easter Sunday and beat most of my best times?? The pool was nearly empty which helped a lot and the sunshine was glorious. 🙌

Caught up with a friend who finally secured a new (long!) contract after a couple of months of unemployment. We could not get into Miga at short notice but Calong was absolutely fab. 👌

Filipino food is kinda booming? Or maybe I just started paying attention. Anyway both Donia and the new Panadera branch are very fine additions to central.

Crochet etc

The fact that I SOMEHOW REPEATEDLY kept fucking up SOMETHING about the Hello Kitty gift/request I'm making did not exactly boost my mood. It's done now at least but ehhhh (handing over for someone else to embroider face and sew clothes).

Apparently I only finished Susie this month, why does it feel like it's been ages? More detailed post.

Needle felted a bunny for a friend and a cotton blanket/shawl/uhh? for their baby.

Used chenille yarn for the first time to make a mahoosive catnana.

Visited a couple new yarn shops, McCulloch & Willis (where the sheep displays below come from) is def the biggest and best stocked but I liked how cozy Wild & Wooly was (my local once I move!?). Fabrications seemed more sewing oriented, very small selection of yarn. Knit With Attitude was sadly closed when I walked past but Ultimate Fabrics and Craft near it is neat!

I am sooooo tempted by this https://javawhiskers.co.uk/crochet-with-cats/

Watched

The Residence - just a bit of murder mystery fun. Not without tedious bits but Giancarlo Esposito stuns as always and Uzo Aduba's defective detective is super fun and hot. My birding era beckons. 🐥

Hourglass Sanatorium (Has, 1973) - platonic ideal of an European art movie, fever dream-like plot, incredible sets, WWII/Holocaust undercurrents, and most crucially bare breasts every 5 minutes. 10/10 no notes.

Sinners (Coogler, 2025) - it's as good as everyone is saying but I could not stop get the phrase 'whimsical skedaddlers' from bouncing around my brain the entire runtime like so.

Star Trek: TNG - I finished the third season and still no cat? Hello??? I had to find the track above in the middle of the episode, quite stunning. Ranking general enjoyment by plots: Q >>>>> Data / Worf >> Picard > Geordi > various artists > Riker (how many of those are about him maybe leaving? pack your bags and go you basic bitch) > Troi (her mum is fun but The Price made me wanna hurl. Sorry girl but based on this abomination alone you will never recover). RIP Yar, a bicon taken away from us too soon.

Some would say Q is best in small doses but personally I'd watch 28 seasons of a thing where he just ruins someone else's day every episode. 💅

Conclave (Berger, 2024) - I missed this the first time round but thankfully it's back in cinemas cos not only I have caught the papal fever. JP Brammer said it best:

Gayming

I picked up Blue Prince which I don't vibe with and I'm trying to pacifist run Undertale and dying all the fucking time. Do not talk to me about fucking video games, which have become just another aspect of my struggle this month. 🙄

First Delta Green: Music from a Darkened Room session went well, my character is new and I'm struggling a little bit how to fit them into the setting. Can't not love a system that has in-depth genuine role for someone to play a Program Manager. 💞

Finally boardgamed, a couple of smaller things + Apiary. Very cool setting (space bees! bee-shaped mini to represent a space bee spaceship!!!!!!!) but it felt like the space exploration quadrant should be more exciting instead of so much focus on resource collection and trading...

May

So far I've been eating tonnes of noodles between Yori Banjum, Murger Han and Biang Biang?? Gotta diversify my carb intake. :Y

It's my birtday month so everything better turn out well and everyone be nice to me or I'm gonna scream and explode. That is all. 🙇

[sneverussape]

18, 16, and 3 for snape and lily please?

oh i adore these 2 😌😌

3. Obscure headcanon

severus: this is obviously a projection on my part but i hc that snape had asthma (previously discussed here and there was a LONGER one that even had germ theory and an entire meta about illnesses in the wizarding world discussed between @snapesangel, @wellpresseddaisy and myself but i can't find it SKDJSKDS) and certain things in the castle set him off like clockwork depending on the season. having grown up in a grimy old mill town with poor healthcare access will do that to a guy. the rest of the staff knew the turning of the seasons depending on the severity of his allergies and clowned him for it, but they’ve also learned to keep inhalers handy. somehow muggle-bred illnesses are best cured with muggle medication.

lily: lily had a morbid fascination for dead things. dead animals were a frequent find around the outskirts of cokeworth and she and severus would usually poke and prod to their hearts’ delight. severus was more squeamish about the whole ordeal though and would always be the first one to quit whenever lily wanted to play A&E Surgeon. he was fascinated however at the possible effects certain parts would have for potions and would often risk asking his mam 'hypotheticals'.

(both their parents would have been absolutely livid if they'd found out the children were playing with dead animals but severus and lily, in their childish wisdom, both made up for it by washing their hands and arms with soap until their skin stung at the end of the day; only tuney had come close at finding them out but she never completely succeeded)

16. Deepest darkest secret they won’t admit to themselves

already answered here for sev but here's another one:

severus: he didn't hate either children or teaching. there were few moments when he could say that teaching was satisfying, particularly if a diamond of a student managed to emerge from the rough (it happened all too rarely, but the few times it did happen, it was a blissful thing to experience), but he didn't hate it even on a regular day. there were times that children were more amusing than annoying, and the inane things they wrote in their essays sometimes made him cry with laughter rather than frustration. the years before potter were not as turbulent and were almost enjoyable.

lily: wanted badly to increase her station in life, with or without the rest of her family with her. it's not that she didn't love them but as the only witch in her family, no one else could have possibly understood how it meant to be poor and different in hogwarts, apart from severus. but severus was also in a different house and one that was ostracized by the rest of the school. lily was alone. she didn't want to leave the wizarding world and did everything to change her lot in life to make it better, so that she could stay. even if it meant considering james potter as a husband. even if it meant stripping herself from her past and never looking back. (and it wasn't that it didn't hurt; it did. but she had wanted this more).

18. What they’d go to see a therapist about

this is a hard question tbh because would they even consider getting one in the first place? :)) i feel like both would be against therapy for a lot of reasons, the strongest of which would be the complete denial that they needed it. but ok, let's assume that a miracle happened and they took that first step...

severus: increasing his self-worth and letting himself enjoy things. he probably also needed it for anger management. he probably never learned how to productively work through his emotions and therapy could help with that.

lily: marriage counseling lmao but really...i think hers and james' marriage was one of convenience, although i do play sometimes with the hc that it was a happy sort. other things she could have worked on in therapy is abandonment issues and increasing her self-esteem. i think both her and sev had self-image issues that they had to work on, mostly because as they were growing up they had to deal with intense gender role expectations that neither of them cleanly fit into.

they also both needed group therapy with their respective families. :))

thank you for the ask!

[youngerfrankenstein]

So. Been rewatching Buffy the Vampire Slayer over the break. First time watching since I was a teen. Kind of funny that I remember a lot of the broad strokes of the series, my general impressions, and certain episodes (whether because they were especially good or especially terrible) but I forget a lot of the specifics, and shorter arcs, and a few minor characters. But some thoughts while I have been watching (finished season 3):

The show gets off to a pretty rough start. A lot of the acting is pretty wooden, though most of the actors grow into their roles. The writing is pretty spotty and it’s overall just kinda meh to start.

Intro song goes hard. Not gonna lie.

Me watching Angel and Buffy together at 15: “It’s nice I guess, but I don’t really get the tall, dark and broody thing :\”

Me watching them now: “GET AWAY FROM HER! GET A JOB!!!”

No don’t LAMPSHADE IT! You’re making it creepier somehow!!! There’s a really weird feeling of the show wanting to have it both ways with these two. It wants to use them as a metaphor for how kids can get into relationships with older people who will use and abuse them, but also wants them to be tragic lovers who keep getting torn apart but should be together. It wants to have the stalking be both creepy and romantic. Like it’s fine if it’s the “right” guy, which given the show is aimed at teens ehhhhhhhh…

Also lmao. He’s her guardian Angel.

Speaking of Angel, he’s a really good example of a character who is super interesting on PAPER. But the execution is really lacking. Part of this is due to David Boreanaz having the charisma and acting chops of a damp piece of toast.

I had forgotten how much of this show was a soap opera.

Hoo boy has some of this not aged great. Both in terms of social attitudes and general quality. Definitely made in the 90’s. And it’s. So. White. Like to the point they lampshade it in season 3.

THE FIGHT CHOREOGRAPHY. It’s fantastic. It’s awful. It’s amazing and I love it. It’s so over the top it reminds me of classic Star Trek at times. I could watch it for hours <3

Also the villains are by and large so cartoony you can’t take them seriously. But that’s part of the fun!

I never liked Xander much, though I thought he had his moments. Re-watching with the knowledge he’s basically Whedon’s self-insert is making him a LOT harder to bear.

GOD I wish Giles’ nutter ex showed up more. He’s fucking hilarious, just shows up to cause hilarious problems and antagonize Giles. Had a friend compare him to Q and… it’s not a terrible comparison. Rare case of a super minor character stealing my heart. He should have kept showing up once or twice a season to be a bastard.

I actually love how vampires work in this show. Basically a demon piloting a reanimated corpse with some influence from the person whose corpse it was. Truly and utterly monstrous. Follow a bunch of the rules!!! No reflections, have to be invited in (one of the best rules), burned by holiness and the sun. It’s GOOD.

I think I’d like Drusilla a lot in isolation, but I keep thinking how she’s the first big River Tam character type that Whedon is so fond of. She feels… fetishy at times. It’s distracting.

Honestly the Whedon-isms are occasionally distracting in general.

Jenny deserved better treatment. So did Kendra. I’m not even saying neither of them could die (though… why was Kendra there? She was pretty endearing in her appearances but she didn’t contribute much. Were there plans but her actress was busy or?) but the way they were used felt… off. Especially when it felt like the narrative was punishing Jenny for reasonable behaviour.

In general despite a major theme being female empowerment… the show seems to not like women much at times. (Or non white people… at all.)

Also speaking of themes oh BOY are they not subtle. But in an endearing way. Mostly. High School is, apparently, Hell.

Giles’ BLATANT favouritism towards Buffy is hilarious. In general their relationship is really sweet.

Cordelia should be Queen of the world.

I’m annoyed by to despise most of the romances on this show. This includes every romance arc that includes either Buffy or Xander. Or god forbid both. Which given the soap opera aspect is very unhelpful to enjoying the show. And is going to make looking up fandom stuff unbearable.

I think The Mayor is the first Big Bad I really like. He’s fun, and his actor does a good job of being both likeable and oddly threatening.

His dynamic with Faith is also great! Their relationship is like a dark mirror of the Giles and Buffy one. Brought in by the “father” figure as a tool but it grows into genuine care.

Faith is a really interesting character, even if not always handled the best.

I’m half convinced the main reason people like Spike is just that James Marsters is THAT charismatic.

Overall? Honestly the show is basically Elevated Schlock. There is a lot of awful nonsense, annoying filler and stupid decisions. …But there’s still something very charming about it, still a lot of good. It’s also wild to acknowledge how much of its DNA is in shows from the decades following. Maybe starting to phase out in the last while since prestige television became a thing and schlock was more regulated to reality and cop shows. But it definitely is an important touchstone in television history, even if parts don’t hold up.