#i want to see butterflies and i want to swim in the ocean

[afternines]

.

[kayhi808]

First Crush - 8

Your dinner & movie date was great! Dinner came out well. Bucky enjoyed it. He hadn't had a home cooked meal in a while. Bucky helps you clear the table, "I'll have to give Abby a bath & get her ready for bed, but if you want...to hang around for a bit..."

You feel his hands on your hips as he turns you around. "Yea, I think I can do that." He leans in & kisses you softly. His lips, soft but firm makes the butterflies in your belly take flight. You take his bottom lip between your teeth & tug, eliciting a soft moan from Bucky's throat.

"Mama?" Bucky jumps back, looking over his shoulder at Abby standing 3 feet away. "What doing?"

"Hey, Baby. I was on my way to get your bath started. Can you pick out your pajamas for me? You can also pick out 2 stories for tonight."

"Mama?"

"Yes."

She waddles over to hold Bucky's hand, "Can Bucky reads me a story"

You both look at Bucky. "Sure." He smiles down at her.

She claps & bounces up & down. "One story for Buckys & 2 story for yous."

"What? No, ma'am. You only get 2 stories. One for me & one for Bucky."

Abby bends over cackling, "I almost tricks yous."

"Nice try. Go find your pajamas & stories. We'll be right there." Abby skips out of the kitchen and then you're able to crack a smile. "She's only 3! By the time she's a teenager, she'll be too smart for me." Bucky drops a kiss at your temple as you pass him to get Abby's bath ready.

*****

Your evening didn't end like you would have hoped. Abby wouldn't fall asleep as long as Bucky was there. She came outside for water, monsters in her closet, monsters under the bed, to ask very important questions about Moana's Chicken if it knew how to swim in the ocean...Her interruptions were endless. Bucky left because Abby wouldn't go to sleep otherwise. Cockblocked by your own child!

You and Bucky decided that once he returns from this mission, you'd set time aside for a real date. Just the two of you. You've been so limited to lunches in your office or phone calls after Abby goes to sleep. You're dying to go on a grown-up date with Bucky.

Wednesday morning started like any other day, until an alert came in that Bucky's mission went sideways & the team suffered injuries. The med bay had to be alerted & prepped for the incoming quinjet. Bucky had been shot and one of the other agents under him was in serious condition.

It was hard for you to concentrate on work knowing Bucky was hurt. This is exactly what scared you about starting a relationship with Bucky. The fear you'll feel with every mission he leaves on. You both have kept it professional at work, but Bucky's friends know you've been seeing each other. You weren't assigned to Director Fury today, so you aren't abreast with details of the mission.

Sam drops by your office, "Hey."

Leaping up from your desk, "Sam! What happened? How is he?"

"He'll be fine. They're checking him out now. It was a through and through.

"And the other agent?"

"He's in surgery now, but it looks good." You nod, biting your bottom lip. "Want me to take you up?"

Tears fall, "I'm still working. I don't want Fury..."

Sam laughs, "Fury already knows EVERYTHING that happens here. It'll be quick. Once you see him, it'll put your mind at ease."

Wiping away your tears, "Please?" Sam nods & as you pass him, he puts his arm around your shoulder giving you a quick squeeze.

*****

You get to the med bay and Bucky is on a bed, his side patched up with a large bandage & his arm in a sling. You gasp & cover our mouth with your hands, trying to silence yourself. "Buck." It's the first time you've seen him without a shirt, you see the way his Vibranium arm in attached to him. The scars.

It's overwhelming. The abuse his poor body has taken.

"Hey, Doll." Sam nudges you towards the bed & leaves to give you both privacy.

You brush his hair off his forehead & drop a kiss on his brow before placing one on his lips. "Can I get you anything?"

He closes his eyes and shakes his head clasping your hand in his, "Nope. This is good."

You know he's medicated, so you stay until he falls asleep before you leave him.

*****

You made arrangements with a neighbor to pick up Abby from daycare, so you can visit with Bucky after work.

When you get there, Natalie, Clint & Steve are there joking with him. He looks much better than this morning.

"Hey, doll! What are you still doing here?"

Lingering in the doorway, "I asked my neighbor if she could get Abby from daycare because I'd be a little late. I wanted to check on you before I left."

Clint teases, "You don't have to worry about him. He's like a cat with nine lives. Thankfully he's able to put himself in harms way to save the day, with his super serum."

"Shut up, man."

Natasha sees you flinch, "He'll be good as new. The serum does accelerate the healing process. There's nothing to worry about."

You give her a small smile, "Yea, that's good to hear."

"Y/N?" Bucky hears the strain in your voice.

"I'm glad you're feeling better. I...I wanted to know if you needed anything before I left but looks like you're well taken care of."

"Could you guys give us a minute?"

"No, I can't stay. I need to get Abby. I don't want to be an inconvenience; you know how Abby gets. We'll talk later." You quickly go to him & drop a kiss on his brow & turn to leave, giving a small wave to the others.

*****

The following morning Director Fury had you with him in meetings. When you got back to your office, you found Bucky sitting there waiting for you. "Bucky? What are you doing here? Did they release you already?" You notice the bruise and scrapes were already healed. He still had his arm in a sling though.

"You didn't answer your phone last night."

"I'm sorry. I texted you this morning. Abby was in a mood and I fell asleep early. I was real tired." Bucky just stares at you and it makes you nervous. "Did you want me to pick up lunch for you?"

He shakes his head & continues to stare at you until you finally make eye contact with him. "Talk to me, Y/N." He waits out your silence.

"What do you want me to say?"

"Whatever's bothering you, we can talk it through. We can figure it out. At least give me a chance."

"I don't even know where to start."

"The beginning works best," getting comfortable in the chair, signaling he's not going anywhere.

"Abby's father. He was a fighter pilot with the Air Force. He had a dangerous job but he didn't die in the line of duty. It was because he was reckless. He was careless & lost control of his plane. He did that to himself."

"And you see him in me?" You see his jaw clench.

"I don't know. I know that i'm scared now. I feel more connected to you, than I did to Jason in the short time I've known you. My daughter absolutely adores you." You see a cocky smile on his face. "Those aren't good points, Bucky." Frowning at him, "Your job is dangerous and you risk your life to save others. I can't have someone else in my life who puts me & Abby second."

"And you think I'd do that?"

"I do. Clint said that because you're a Super Soldier, you take extra risks because you know you'll recover. You take a bullet for someone on the team because you know you'll survive and they will die. That's brave and heroic and I commend you on that."

"Y/N."

"But if I'm honest and selfish, if I let myself fall in love with you, where does that leave me? Abby? I don't think we have a place in your world. Your team, Mankind, will always outrank us."

"It's like you've got this all figured out."

Shaking your head, "I don't. And that's what scares me. If it was just myself I had to think about, my concerns would be different. I'd be willing to risk more." Taking a deep breath, "I'm protecting Abby the only way I know how."

"And if I promise to put you & Abby first?"

That wasn't an option you were expecting. "I don't understand."

Bucky stands and leans on your desk, "If I swear to put you and Abby first. Will you give us a chance?"

"How?"

"Let me work it out. I'm asking you to trust me? Can you do that? Can you give me time?" You silently nod as he pulls you in for a kiss. The chill of his vibranium hand on the nape of your neck giving you goosebumps. Or is it just the kiss itself?

Next chapter

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[dfortrafalgar]

Distraction

Portgas D. Ace x Fem!Reader

You and Ace intended to spend the day at the beach, but he can’t seem to be able to relax.

Warnings: modern au, so much smut. like so much smut. wet, sticky smut. 69-ing briefly. reader is also written to be on the chubbier side (im projecting <3) ace fucks you in the back of his car, basically. MINORS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED.

I woke up thinking about Ace today so I cranked this out in, like, an hour. It was a nice change of pace while I've been finishing up IMLY and the Luffy fic from my poll, which is almost done! (speaking of which, thank you for 200 followers <3)

Ace hadn’t seen your swimsuit yet.  All he knew about it was that you purchased it recently on a shopping trip with a group of your friends, but it was currently concealed under a light t-shirt and denim shorts.  Throughout the drive to the shoreline, he was anxiously eyeing your bare thighs, his grip on the steering wheel of his station wagon turning his knuckles white.

“What’s got you so nervous over there?”  Your airly voice shook the freckled man out of his daze.  “Eyes on the road, hotshot.”

“It’s nothing,” he blurted, pouting and turning his attention back to the road.  Maybe he should have you sit in the backseat when your skin was exposed.

His own friends often joked that he was no better than a dog.  It wasn’t his fault that his sex drive was higher than cruising altitude… or maybe it was.  But he couldn’t help his wandering eyes when the soft skin of your plush thighs was exposed, or the way your deft hands fiddled with your cuticles as you stared out the window, sparkling eyes taking in the cloudless summer day as the backroads passed by on the drive to the beach.  Most of your evenings together were spent with either his head between your legs, your head between his legs, or your face smushed into a soft pillow while Ace desperately railed you from behind.

It was a good life, that’s for sure.

“It’s been so long since I’ve been to the beach,” you suddenly stated, turning your head to look at your flustered boyfriend.  “I’ve only ever been swimming in pools recently!”

“Yeah, me too,” he replied, his voice shaky.

Your eyebrows furrowed in concern.  “Ace, are you really alright?  Your face is kind of red.”  You reached your hand over to press your palm to his forehead.  “You don’t feel like you have a fever, do you?”

“Nah, I feel fine.  Honestly.  Just… thinking.”  One of his hands left the steering wheel to rub his sweating palm against the fabric of his swim trunks.  All he had on, other than the baggy trunks, was a white tank top that had a very unfortunate oil stain around the chest area.  He was sure his entire upper body was flushing red with the debauched thoughts that plagued his weary brain.  He hadn’t even seen your bathing suit yet and his mind was running in circles.  (He started to debate calling up that therapist that Sabo recommended.)

“Well, tell me if you really don’t feel good.  I don’t want you to force yourself to be out today just because of me,” you cooed, your voice soft and comforting.

He needed to tell you to stop talking.  Even the sound of your voice made butterflies swarm in his gut.

He might as well have been ovulating.

After what felt like an eternity, the trees surrounding the backroad route he had taken began to dissipate, replaced with the beautiful sight of the shoreline.  The ocean spanned outward as far as you could see, disappearing along the horizon and blending in with the bright blue sky.  A few small beach houses dotted the shore.

“You said this was a public beach, right?” you asked curiously.

Ace nodded, swallowing a thick glob of spit.  “Public, but very minimal.  There’s some private properties surrounding it so a lot of people assume the entire place is off-limits to locals, but there’s a small parking lot set back from the beach near a tiny bathroom shack-lookin’ thing.”

You grinned.  “Nice.”

“Do you not like public beaches?” he inquired, tossing you a side eye as he pulled further down the road, approaching the aforementioned parking lot.

“I don’t mind them,” you replied.  “But sometimes really busy beaches make me nervous.  Sometimes I don’t feel comfortable swimming when there’s too many people around… I get self-conscious in my bathing suits!”  Your statement was punctuated with a fluttering, nervous laugh as you involuntarily squeezed the skin of your thighs.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about that when I’m here,” Ace replied, flashing you a cheeky grin.

The parking lot seemed sparse.  It was entirely gravel with a few decrepit wooden fences separating where cars could park, some overgrown weeds poking through the impacted dirt here and there.  Sure enough, there was a brown, run-down bathroom shack between the beach and the parking lot.  During high tide, it almost seemed like the entire area would get flooded, but the gravel was drier than bone thanks to the beating sunlight.

You dug through your bag, removing a tube of sunblock.

“I thought you already put on sunscreen before we left,” Ace said, pulling into a spot and putting his beat-up station wagon in park.

“I did, I’m just putting some extra on my face,” you responded, uncapping the tube and squeezing some of the white gel onto your fingers.  You deftly rubbed the lotion onto your skin, across your cheeks and brow, down your nose, and down your neck.  

Ace needed to look away from you as your hands trailed down your neck and across your collarbones, ridding your hands of the excess lotion.  You weren’t provoking him on purpose, he knew that, but clearly his dick was taking charge of the day.

Little prick.

The two of you excitedly exited the car, grabbing your small umbrella and towels to find a nice spot to set up camp on the sand.  You were quick to lay down your towel when you found a spot, Ace digging a deep hole into the ground to mount the umbrella and provide a shelter from the beating sunlight.  Only a few other people were dotted around the beach, mostly older folk who were most certainly retired and enjoying their elderly days basking in the sunlight.  The thought made you smile.  You watched with glittering eyes as Ace pulled his tank top over his lean body, his muscular chest rippling with his movements, letting the cloth fall into his bag in a wrinkled heap.

“Oh, shit, forgot the cooler,” Ace mumbled suddenly.  “I’ll be right back.”  He swiftly turned tail and hiked through the sand back to his car.

You smiled, crawling under the umbrella and feeling the sand beneath the fabric shift below your knees.  You slid your denim shorts down your legs, shifting your weight to pull them off before folding them neatly and tucking them into your beach bag.  Your shirt followed, your hands hooking under the bottom hem and pulling it up over your head, repeating the process of folding it and storing it away.  Weirdly enough, you felt more comfortable on this beach than any other.  While some old folk liked to gab, the sparse population on this beach seemed more than willing to keep to themselves.  And there was no risk of creepy men your age or obnoxious teenagers to toss rogue comments about your body or shitty pick-up lines.

And you had Ace, of course, who would kiss the ground you walked on if you asked.  The thought made your stomach flutter with glee.

Back in the parking lot, Ace was quick to haul open his trunk and grab the small cooler they had packed with water, some sodas, and some light snacks, slinging it over his bare shoulder and slamming the door closed.  The hinges made a terrible squealing noise as the door moved.  He really needed to get that fixed.  He quickly jogged back to the shoreline with the cooler bag in his possession, his sandals making scuff marks in the gravel.

He almost died and came back to life when he saw you from behind.

Your clothes were off, your body hugged in a bikini that looked sculpted for you and only you.  The strawberry-print bodice was tied around your neck and below your shoulder blades with thin straps, the front of the suit being held together in the front with a metal ring between the bust.  Your plump breasts peeked over the seams slightly, making blood rush to Ace’s face.  The solid-colored bottoms squeezed your hips and ass perfectly, with one side open and held together with strings in an intricate criss-cross pattern.

Ace’s feet were moving on their own, his soul ascending from his body as he floated toward you.

You heard the rustle of his swim trunks from behind you as you approached, turning to look at him over your shoulder.  “Hey!  All set with the cooler?”

He plopped to his knees on his own towel, the cooler hitting the ground with a thud.  “Yeah, all set…”  His voice trailed off as if he wanted to say something else.

You gazed at him with confusion painting your features.

“You… you look…”  Ace could barely look at you.  “You look so fucking hot… oh my god.”

Suddenly, his demeanor in the car made much more sense.  The constant red flush painting his adorable freckled cheeks, his mouth in a perpetual tongue-tie, his lips pursing together tightly as he struggled to keep his composure.  Your lips pulled into a bright smile, relishing in the flustered behavior of your boyfriend.

“Aww, thank you, baby!” you cooed, moving closer to him.  Your hands trailed down his arm, ghosting over the tattoo on his bicep before teasingly falling to the cooler and unzipping the top, pulling an orange soda out of the bag.

“Please don’t tease me, I think I might explode,” Ace huffed.

You popped open the can with a satisfying click, taking a quick sip from the opening.  “You know… I don’t think anyone’s going to mess with our stuff if you want to go back to the car…”

Ace’s dark eyes darted toward you, assessing the mischievous expression on your face as you kept the cold soda can pressed against your mouth.  The metal was rapidly developing condensation thanks to the heat in the air, droplets of water dripping down the orange can and onto your fingers, plopping against your folded knees.

He carefully removed the soda from your hands, tucking it back into the cooler to make sure it didn’t spill, before standing up and hauling you to your feet, dragging you by your hand across the hot sand and back to the parking lot for a third time.  He ripped his car keys from the pocket of his swim trunks, shoving the metal key into the door lock to open the vehicle before leading you to the trunk and popping open the door.  You quickly clamored inside, him following behind you and closing the trunk from the inside.  He chucked his keys somewhere towards the front of the car.

He wasted absolutely no time in smashing his lips against yours, making you wince slightly at the feeling of his teeth hitting your own, but the way his long fingers expertly groped the skin of your breasts below your bikini top made you forget about the momentary discomfort.

After a few stifling moments, Ace pulled away and heaved into the skin of your neck, holding you down by your shoulders.

The best part about him owning an old, refurbished station wagon was the ample amount of room in the back, as well as the lack of center console between the two front seats.  It was a car built for fucking.

“Is this what you were thinking of on the ride over here?” you asked, a coy tone on your tongue.  “About what my new swimsuit would look like?”

Ace grumbled, a childish pout on his lips as one of his hot hands continued to rub patterns up and down your side.  Up to your breasts, his thumb ghosting over your concealed nipple, trailing down your waist and groping the plush flesh of your belly, down your thigh to squeeze your ass.  The way the strings on the exposed side of your bottom piece fit into your skin made his cock throb.

“You’re insatiable,” you giggled, your own hands leaving scorching patterns over his shoulders and arms.  “Are you ovulating?  You’re acting like me before my period.”

“Shush,” he grumbled, followed by another sweltering kiss, all tongue.  You felt a dribble of spit leave the corner of your mouth, sticking to the skin of your cheek.  His lips moved against yours, exchanging a blistering heat.  Ace always seemed to radiate warmth even on the coldest days, and his presence in this moment filled your body with a heated, lustful buzz.  Goosebumps rose on your skin when he pulled away from you leaving your front exposed, gently biting your puffy lower lip with his teeth.

“How worried are you about someone messing with our things on the beach?” he asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

You adjusted yourself slightly below him, his knees beside your hips caging you onto the floor of his trunk.  “Hmm… not too worried.”

“Perfect,” Ace replied swiftly, tugging his swim trunks down.  

He had such a nice cock, perfectly shaped with a cut tip that flushed a beautiful rosy hue.  A slight upward curve, lean and not too long, perfect.  He was either hard for the entire time you were setting up your small spot on the sand and you hadn’t noticed, or he was fighting with every fiber in his body to keep the erection at bay.  Whatever the circumstance, the fantasy of spontaneously fucking you in the trunk of his car in that sexy bikini of yours that he daydreamed about on the drive down was finally coming true.

Your hands made a move down to your hips to pull on the fabric of your bottoms before his fingers wrapped around your wrists, halting your movement.

“Sorry,” he uttered, his voice a soft whisper filled with a desperation you rarely saw from him.  “Your suit stays on.”

Your mouth morphed into a grin as he released you, leaning back up on his knees and idly stroking his cock with his right hand.  You parted your legs for him, making a show of smushing your breasts together under your tight top.  God, your suit could have been molded onto your body, it looked so good.

“Are you going to stay there and jerk off over me, or are you going to share some of the fun?” you asked deviously, one of your hands crawling below your bottoms and teasing your clit with the slick that had built up.  A pleasant, tingling flutter resonated in your belly and floated down your thighs, but nothing was better than the feeling of his fingers and cock doing the work for you.

“I want to do everything to you,” he muttered, releasing his dick from his slow ministrations.  “I don’t even know where to begin.”

You watched as it bobbed in the air, so hard it held itself out away from Ace’s toned stomach.  You involuntarily licked your lips at the sight.  “You’re so pretty…” you muttered.  You took it upon yourself to sit up, gently pushing against Ace’s shoulders to get him to sit on the trunk floor on his ass, leaning against him further to get the hint to lay down in the position you had just been in.

Neither of you had a strictly dominating or strictly submissive attitude.  Rather, you mutually shared the moment, taking charge when you wanted and snatching the lead away whenever you pleased.  This was one of those moments as you rotated your body on top of his, moving your ass closer to his face as one of your hands ghosted along his hip bone, your other arm supporting you and keeping you upright.

Ace got the hint almost immediately, his greedy hands groping and squeezing your ass as he pulled you downward to rest your clothed cunt against his mouth.  The hotness of his breath and the feeling of his lips against your weeping pussy concealed by the polyester made your breath hitch as your lips traveled closer and closer to the tip of his dick, watching hungrily as it seemed to pulse in the air, desperate for attention.

Your boyfriend made the first move, pulling you down by your hips and resting your cunt over his mouth, his tongue forcing its way between your folds through the suit and quickly finding your clit.  You gasped, your arm shaking somewhat as you quickly followed his lead, wasting no time in taking his cock into your hot, ready mouth.  

And goodness, did he taste good.  A familiar slightly salty musk partnered with the residual scent of his daily body spray, a vanilla and cedar flavor that always made your heart flutter in your chest.  His cock might as well have been burning as you hollowed out your lips and took him further down your mouth, loving the way the organ pulsed against your tongue.  

On the other end, Ace’s fingers had found their way into the fabric of your bathing suit, holding the barrier aside as two of his digits spread your natural slick over your cunt and lubricated his skin before he pressed them into your pussy, addicted to the way your muscles constricted around him.  Your entrance was always on the tighter side no matter how many times you fucked, and it was absolute heaven for him.  He turned the pads of his two fingers forward, pushing gently against the roof of your vagina where he knew you were acutely sensitive, and smirked to himself when your thighs clenched around his head.  Your movements over his cock momentarily stuttered at the feeling of his thumb connecting with your clit to simultaneously stroke the needy bud while passionately fingering your pussy.

He knew you too well.  He knew what you needed.  Ace wasn’t a selfish lover, he had learned your quirks and needs very early on in your relationship.  You loved your clit rubbed in somewhat slow circles, alternating between various pressures.  You responded to his fingers against your g-spot, and you loved when his dick curled upward into the same area.  Not too deep so as to hit your cervix, which hurt you quite a bit, but deep enough to reach those sensitive areas that had your legs shaking.

You learned quickly too, however.  Ace’s tip was the most sensitive part of him, his breaths growing shallow when you delicately sucked your lips around it and trailed your tongue along the slit, collecting the small amount of salty precum that emerged from the tip.  He loved it when you gently fondled his balls, rubbing the wrinkled skin between the pads of your fingers.  He adored the inside of his thighs being caressed, and you tried your best to do both with one hand as the other trembling appendage fought to support your weight as you continued to blow him.

You popped off of his cock momentarily, stroking the base with your hand.  “Did you have fruit recently?” you asked, turning your head somewhat to look over your shoulder.  Not like you could see much.

Ace paused his motions against your pussy.  “... Maybe.”

You grinned, the usually salty, bitter taste of his essence now replaced with something slightly sweeter.  You wanted to egg him on, to ask him if he had planned for this to happen and eaten some pineapple or citrus with his breakfast in preparation, but you decided to keep your inquiries to yourself and return to your task of sucking him off.

Ace was content to keep fingering you, his current position in between your thighs a bit too difficult to involve his tongue, but he knew he could please you regardless.  The circular movements of his calloused thumb against your throbbing clit had you sucking in sharp, lustful breaths through your nose, small whimpers leaving your throat and vibrating down his shaft making him bite his lip and stifle a wheeze.  Your thighs were quivering as he continued to curl his fingers into your g-spot, following the rhythm of your lips around his cock.

After some moments, however, you quickly scrambled off of him, your hand clutching around your stomach as you pivoted above him, capturing his lips in yours.  You ground your clothed cunt over his pulsing cock, keeping it locked between your pussy and his toned abdomen.

“Now who’s the desperate one?” he asked, teasingly, his signature boyish smirk traveling right back to your clit.

“I can’t help it, you’re contagious,” you huffed against the skin of his cheek.

Usually, the two of you used lube.  It didn’t matter how wet you got thanks to foreplay, the sensations were always heightened when there was no risk of chafing.  But clearly, you didn’t have that luxury today.  Nor did you have any condoms.  Instead, you bit down your thoughts, reserved yourself to spending 70 beri on the morning-after pill later that day, and hovered over his cock.  You pulled your swimsuit to the side and took his dick in your hands, wasting no time in slipping it through your folds that were thoroughly drenched thanks to Ace’s expert fingers.  

The first insertion always hurt somewhat.  A slight, red-hot throbbing pain that radiated through your pelvis, followed by a pleasant pressure as his cock slowly intruded into your tight muscle.  The groan that radiated from Ace’s throat made your pussy flutter.  

That was another thing you loved about him.  He was loud.

Maybe on a normal day you’d be worried about someone hearing you, or seeing the way his car shook with the force of your collective moments, but both of you had succumbed to desperation and couldn’t care less.  Traumatize the elderly beach goers who might happen to walk through the gravel parking lot to their own cars.

You sunk fully down onto Ace’s hips, his dick perfectly nestled inside your wet and willing pussy as his hands tightly gripped your hips through your suit bottoms.  You slowly rocked your hips, desperate for some extra friction against your clit.  It was much harder with the fabric covering you, but eventually you found a movement that felt just right.  Edging your hips slightly forward, you rolled your pelvis against his, dragging your clothed slit over the taught skin of his lower abdomen, moaning at the feeling of his dick pulsing within you.

Maybe you really didn’t have to worry about lube today.  Every motion against the walls of your vagina had you biting your lip and arching your back over him.

Ace’s hands assisted with bouncing you on his cock, his voice slowly increasing in volume as he watched you through half-lidded as your breasts jiggled with each movement, how the fat of your belly and thighs rippled so deliciously as you gyrated above him.  His voice was delectable, gruff and whiny, higher-pitched than usual with stuttering breaths and hitches in his throat that had your heart beating a mile a minute.

Your legs were growing tired, and Ace could tell.  He wordlessly beckoned you off of him, being quick to lean you over the back seats and move your suit to the side again, slipping his cock back in between your folds.  This angle always fit the both of you.  As much as Ace loved it when you rode him, taking you from behind came with many more benefits.  His free hand could travel down to dip beneath the cloth of your swimsuit and rub those delicious circles against your clit while simultaneously thrusting his desperate hips against your ass.  His chest pressed into your shoulder blades, his free hand supporting him against the back of the seats as you held onto the leather for dear life, whining with each motion of his cock against your inner walls and his calloused fingers against your clit.

It didn’t take long for you to unravel, the feeling of his rough finger pads against your desperate nub too much to bear.  Your orgasm approached slowly at first, filling your stomach with warmth, the insides of your eyelids flashing purple and indigo, before your body snapped and you were shuddering against Ace, moaning out loud as your pussy involuntarily clenched around his cock, your cunt feeling feather light as it fluttered.  The force of your orgasm caused you to gyrate your hips back against his, weak, airy moans escaping your tongue as the red-hot pleasure radiated through your entire body leaving your pussy buzzing with the aftershocks.

Ace was barely holding it together.  The force of your orgasm causing your pussy to clench around his cock had his arms weakening against the seat, his hips frantically rutting into you as sultry moans left his lips at the feeling of his cock burning inside you, begging for satisfaction.  His fingers never stopped rubbing your clit, caught up in what had essentially become second nature for him.  The overstimulation had you twitching around him, shallow breaths heaving from your lungs.  Ace’s pace increased as did the stuttering of his hips, his thrusts growing more shallow as his own orgasm approached.

“A-Ace… fuck, baby…” you whined, dropping your forehead against the back of the seat.  “You’re gonna make me cum again…”

The man was too caught up in the throes of pleasure.  Calling him desperate earlier was clearly an understatement.  A loud, throaty groan reverberated from his lips as his hips rapidly drilled into you, forcing you against the back of the seat.  His shallow breaths only helped to fuel your second orgasm that rocked you with a sudden wash of white light behind your eyes and you were shuddering against him again, your own moans filling the stifling air of the car.  

Ace barely had time to call out your name before he was thrusting disjointedly into you, crackled, weary moans leaving his lips as he came into your sore cunt, his hands pressing down onto your lower back to keep you still as he buried his cock into you, soaking you more than you already were.  You felt him pull out of you, your cunt fluttering around nothing as the sound of him falling backwards against the closed door of his trunk filled your ears.

Your own spent body dropped to the side, sitting on your hip and barely holding yourself up with one hand.  You slowly picked your head up, gazing at your boyfriend and assessing his condition.

Black hair mussed beyond belief, his freckled cheeks and shoulders flushed with a delicate red hue, his lips wet and swollen parted with the force of his labored breathing.  His eyes were closed, jaw slack as his pelvis continued to twitch from the force of his orgasm.  A few last drops of cum were bubbling from his tip, slowly dripping down his drenched dick that almost glistened, covered in your own fluids.  You felt wet between your legs.  It would have been a nice feeling if you weren’t already so stifling, your entire body feeling sticky.  You finally noticed the way the windows had fogged up.  You didn’t have time to think about carbon dioxide toxicity before Ace’s weary hand traveled up to the back window of his trunk door, blindly popping the window open a crack to let some fresh air flow into the car.  The summer heat felt oddly cool against your sweaty skin.

You slowly crawled closer to Ace, ignoring the way your drenched cunt sat uncomfortably inside your bathing suit.  You combed a damp strand of black hair off of his forehead before delicately pressing your lips against his cheek, encouraging him to finally open his eyes.

“You alright?” you asked, your voice low and quiet.

He finally smiled, his narrow, dark eyes filling your chest with warmth.  “I think my heart almost stopped.”

You giggled, running your sweaty hand up and down his skin.  “Should I wear bathing suits around you more often?  I don’t think you’ve ever fucked me like that.”

Your boyfriend’s humble laughter made you grin.  “For the sake of my health, you probably shouldn’t.”  He finally leaned forward to press a tender kiss against your wet lips.  “Though, if I were to die fucking you in a bikini, I’d die a very, very happy man.”

[jihyoruri]

❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ 𓍢 CARDIGAN, AUGUST AND BETTY kim minji x reader x kazuha nakamura

🪩★ ͘ ⴰ yn’s always been a hopeless romantic, her wish is to have the best love story and have the love of her life by her side in the end, but you can’t do that without a little bumps in the road right?

💿 TAPE 01 — AUGUST “ august slipped away into a moment of time cause it was never mine.”

the ocean breeze coming from the window takes over yn’s room along with the soft music coming from her phone as the girl sits on her bed with her face in a book.

it’s calming, it’s the exact break she needed, from all the craziness of idol life, she’s happy minji invited her to this beach house for the second half of the summer, august was always sort of depressing, so maybe the beach house would make it fun.

speaking of minji, yn hasn’t seen her since this morning, but that’s probably her fault, the girl had locked herself in the room that she’s staying in, she was determined to finish the book that she was reading, it was romance obviously.

romance is everything to yn, being in love seems like the best thing that can ever happen to you in yn’s mind, yn’s older sister would probably tell her to get her head out of the clouds but she just can’t help it, having someone’s heart in the palm of your hands and them having yours seems so intimate and vulnerable that it’s beautiful.

the book that yn is reading is about summer love, summer love is probably yn’s favourite trope, she’d love to have a summer love, to swim in the ocean with them and play in the sand.

“yn?” a voice snaps her out of her love filled thoughts, she looks up to see minji peaking her head in between the cracks of her door, “yeah?”

minji opened the door wider and stood fully in the door way, she had a oversized sweater that seemed to be over her swimsuit, “wanna go the beach? you can bring your book.”

yn looks at the girl at her door and can’t help but stare, minji has always been pretty no doubt, but this summer yn felt something different, butterflies would fill her stomach every time the leader would look at her or her hands would feel shaky when minji would talk to her, it’s been getting weird lately if she’s being honest, “sure just let me put on my suit.”

after getting ready yn made her way downstairs where minji was sitting on the couch waiting for her, as if it was on cue the girl looked up from her phone and smiled at yn, “ready?”

“yep.”

as the day unfolded, it felt like something out of a dream. the sky was a perfect blue, with wisps of clouds lazily drifting by. yn and minji spent hours on the beach, their laughter mingling with the sound of waves crashing against the shore.

they built sandcastles, their fingers intertwined as they molded the wet sand, and raced each other into the ocean, the cool water a refreshing escape from the heat of the sun. later, they sprawled on their beach towels, with yn absorbed in her book while minji dozed off beside her, a soft smile playing on her lips.

yn felt a sense of peace, as if all the chaos of the world had faded away, leaving just the two of them in their little bubble of happiness. it was a contentment she hadn't experienced in a long time, being an idol could be so stressful sometimes.

as the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the beach, they reluctantly packed up their things and made their way back to the cozy beach house they had rented for the summer. the evening air was cool against their sun-kissed skin, and yn couldn't help but smile as minji playfully bumped her shoulder.

"today was perfect," minji said, her voice soft but full of warmth. "i don't want it to end."

yn glanced at her, feeling a tug at her heart. "me neither," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

later that night, after they had showered and changed into comfortable clothes, they settled on the couch to watch a movie. the room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the tv screen. as the movie played, minji nestled closer to yn, resting her head on yn's shoulder. yn's heart raced as she felt minji's breath against her neck, a comforting presence that she had grown to cherish.

without thinking, minji leaned in and kissed yn, her lips soft and warm against yn's. yn's eyes fluttered shut as she returned the kiss, her heart pounding in her chest. the world outside seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of them in that moment. minji's hand found its way to yn's cheek, caressing it gently as the kiss deepened.

when they finally pulled away, both of them were breathless. minji's eyes sparkled with something yn couldn't quite place, but it made her feel like she was floating. "i've wanted to do that for a while," minji admitted, her voice trembling slightly.

yn smiled, her cheeks flushed. "me too," she confessed.

the rest of august passed in a blur of stolen glances, secret touches, and passionate kisses. they spent their days exploring the small coastal town, holding hands when no one was looking, and sharing whispered conversations under the stars. at night, they would cuddle on the couch, the lines between friendship and something more becoming increasingly blurred.

it was yn’s dream, having summer love was all she could’ve hoped for, she had dreams about it, her older sister would call her delusional but this was it, it really was the dream.

but as the days slipped by, yn couldn't shake the feeling that this was all too good to last. they were more than friends, but less than a couple. it was a summer fling, a beautiful, fleeting moment in time that yn desperately wanted to hold onto.

one evening, as they were getting ready to head out for a late-night walk on the beach, minji excused herself to use the bathroom. yn sat on the edge of the bed, waiting patiently, when minji's phone, left on the nightstand, buzzed with a new message. the screen lit up, and yn's eyes were drawn to the notification.

it was a text from kazuha, a fellow idol from lesserafim. curiosity got the best of yn, and she couldn't help but glance at the message.

"hey, minji. i miss you. I can’t wait to see you." kazuha's message read, accompanied by a heart emoji.

yn felt a pang of jealousy pierce her chest. she quickly looked away, guilt washing over her for snooping, but the damage was done. in that moment, reality hit her like a wave crashing against the shore. she realized that she might just be a summer fling, a temporary distraction for minji.

when minji returned, she found yn sitting quietly on the edge of the bed, her expression unreadable. "you okay?" minji asked, concern lacing her voice as she walked over and sat beside yn.

yn forced a smile, though it didn't reach her eyes. "yeah, i'm fine," she lied, trying to sound convincing. but her heart ached, and she knew that minji could sense something was off.

yn was never the best at hiding her emotions, she was an emotional person, her older sister would tell her, that she needs to learn how to hide them.

minji frowned, studying yn's face. "are you sure? you seem… distant."

yn wanted to spill everything, to ask minji what they really were, to understand where she stood in minji's life. but instead, she swallowed her emotions and shook her head. "it's nothing," she whispered, her voice wavering slightly. "just tired, i guess."

minji didn't seem convinced, but she didn't press further. she wrapped her arm around yn, pulling her close, and yn let herself melt into the embrace. but as they sat there, the weight in yn's chest grew heavier. she knew, deep down, that their summer fling was coming to an end, and the thought terrified her.

of course her summer love wouldn’t actually be hers.

[leonw4nter]

hello ! i REALLY love your writing style !! 💘 i was wondering if i could request a leon fic where it is set in medieval times. i was thinking about where the reader and leon was on a romantic boat ride? the one just like from the movie tangled where flynn and rapunzel decided to take a boat ride under the flying lanterns? i think it would be too cute for that kind of scenario ❤️ ty!!

I See The Light

Knight!RE4R!Leon x GN!Reader AU

Leon trades his usual day of training and standing on his guard’s post for a scene of music and flowers alongside you, strolling along tree-lined streets as he holds your hand; the gentle pressure of his calloused fingers against your knuckles is a grounding sensation, keeping you anchored to this shared moment of peace with your lover. The subtle squeeze of his palms encasing your hand sent waves of reassurance that he will be here to stay for the years to come, to endure the passing of time alongside you. He hears your twinkling voice, practically seeing a small smile in your lips as you discuss what it could possibly feel like if one could float; your eyes were squinted and sparkly, like sun-lit waters of a relatively calm ocean; each gust of a breath expelled with every laugh of yours causes his heart to feel as if the wind lifts it closer to heaven. He nods to your words, the rest of the world fading away the more he listens to you. How funny that you rambled on and on about wanting to float, to feel the wind push your hair back for you as you felt the sky on the tips of your fingers, and Leon could describe the overwhelming sensation you trigger from him as floating; floating, but not drifting away from you. Your presence wields an imperceivable, powerful force that links him to you as the world around him swirls in a blur of greens, blues, pinks, and browns yet he is fixated on you and you alone. He cannot deny the force of his physical attraction towards you but you have given him a chance to peer beyond every smile and frown, to swim in the vast ocean of your dreams and fears; that is more than enough to captivate him fully, more than any external charm.

Your rambling had halted, much to Leon’s slight disappointment, when the purple and yellow banners overhead came into view. Just like the banners, everything else was in purple and yellow, adorned with an intricate illustration of the kingdom’s sun emblem. The children’s laughter and songs breathed life into the air of the festivity, hands dirtied with colorful chalks as they doodled on the stony ground while some played or braided hair. The center of the village is a marvel of pansies and zinnias as butterflies flit from one blossom to another, wings shimmering as iridescent film catches the sun’s golden ray. Stalls were overflowing with daffodils, daisies, and sunflowers; archways and trellis were hung with garlands of wisteria; flower crowns of various flora adorned the heads of villagers. The perfume-like fragrances of the flowers mingled with the cool air to a degree that did not overwhelm one’s sense of smell. Decorated carts peddled sweet and savory treats for cheap, some of them followed by long lines of patrons eager to have a bite. Leon sniffed a whiff of cinnamon and apples in the air, eyes immediately scanning the crowd for the source of the delightful aroma; he knew you liked apple pastries or any treat with apples and he intended on giving you just that. Spotting a small cart run by some children, he squeezed your hand to get your attention.

“My dove, how does an apple and cinnamon fritter sound?” He softly asks with an eager smile.

You light up at the proposition of a snack, forgetting the call of your empty stomach pleading for a meal; you were far too busy admiring the sights around you… maybe also distracted by the work of art whose hand is entwined with yours, stealing momentary glances when his eyes were not fixated on you.

“It sounds perfect,” you breathed. “Where are you going to get it?”

He gestures to the small stall up ahead; a wooden cart with large red wheels, the faded red paint chipping away to reveal the wood it concealed. Child-like doodles of apples and small brown lumps adorn the body of the cart.

“There,” he says. You nod and he leads the way, occasionally looking back at you to check if you’re still trailing behind him.

While his gaze is trained elsewhere aside from you (a rare instance for this day), you take the time to admire the back of your mon nounours. He stood tall and imposing, exuding an aura of strength and resiliency despite having shed the silver plate of armor he is usually spotted donning; his blond hair reflected the almost-setting sun, casting a sheen that can be likened to a halo. The fit of his black tunic accentuated the ripples and lines of his back, muscles earned through several years of rigorous training and exercise. His vest accentuated the tapering of his waist, a perfect curve meant for your hands to perch upon. The fabric of his garments moved with him in each step, revealing the confidence and fluidity of a skilled knight even without protective metal plates. Soon, you two stand in front of the humble stall. You admire the array of different apple snacks besides the fritters you set your sights on– apple tarts, small apple cakes, apple pies, and apple bread.

“How much will 6 of the apple fritters cost?” He asks, a hand reaching for a pouch he kept on the inside of his vest.

A little girl hops off of the small stool she sat on, attending to Leon’s query. “It’ll be 6 silver pennies.”

“I’ll have 6 of those then,” he decides. You’ve shifted your hold on him, a hand now linked near the crook of his arm.

The slightly stronger cooling wind swept Leon’s dirty blond fringe, tresses slowly resembling a bird’s nest atop his head. Flowers swayed delicately like dances in colorful skirts and eccentric hats; trees and grass rustle softly, a soothing symphony harmonizing with the whispers of the wind. The blond knight beside you kept a hand over his hair, strands now tousled into a disarray.

The child takes the steamier fritters and places them inside a small pouch, counting and making sure to choose the best and tastiest-looking ones. She finishes up, standing on her tiptoes to hand your lover the treat, while Leon places his fees on her tiny palm. She giggles, gaze occasionally glancing at his hair. You pick up on this, bending down to the kid’s level with a wicked grin.

“There is a wildness to his hair, right?” you quietly ask before she nods in agreement.

“It resembles a lion’s windswept mane,” she added with a grin. Leon huffed, trying to flatten the disarrayed tangle.

“I think it’s alright, my love. Do you not like it when my hair is this way?” Leon asked, a little self-conscious now.

“Yes, I do love it mon nounours. You look less… standoffish. Less unapproachable. But I take it that it bothers you slightly.”

He nods, a silent affirmation to your statement of his hair slightly bothering him. Thinner strands have already poked his eye, causing them to slightly water.

“My sisters and I know how to weave crowns like those,” the little shop girl gestures to the passersby with crowns of flora. “We can weave you one quickly to keep your hair away from your face. We will not charge.”

Your face lights up at the proposition, tugging on Leon’s arm a little tighter now. He looks a little embarrassed, looking elsewhere as a burst of pink manifests itself on the apples of his cheeks and the tips of his ears. You give him a pleading look, pushing your bottom lip into an exaggerated pout.

“Love, please? It sounds lovely, we can properly blend in with the rest of the kingdom! You will look lovely, I assure you. And besides, don’t the little girls sound adorable?”

Leon sighs, looking down at the small bag of pastry in his other hand. He worries about being spotted in town by a fellow knight, expecting a tirade of teasing to be flung his way when he gets back to the barracks but he knows that he is the least of his concerns, your happiness and well-being going first and foremost before his own. His stoic demeanor betrayed his inner turmoil, an icky guilt seeping into his heart at the mere thought of turning down this opportunity. Why he spared a thought or spent a moment to ponder over something silly, he’s not so sure when ever since, your heart and prosperity the only priority to the knight. With a faint sigh, he agrees.

“All right,” he says in a voice you can pick up. “The girls can weave a flower crown for me.” He sits on a slightly elevated surface right by the stall.

The little girl squeals, clasping her hands before she opens  a small satchel full of vibrant flowers. “Let me find my sisters, my lord and lady. I will be back!”

You nod, watching her run with a pep to her step as she called for her siblings. A chuckle makes its way out of his lips, running his fingers through white gold locks. You stand beside him, reaching for the pouch of snacks in his free hand.

“I’ll hold this one while they work their magic on you, my lord.”

He mumbles a quiet thank you, pulling you in closer by your waist. You remain standing beside him while he sits, an arm snaked around your waist as he rests his head on your hip.

“You’d better eat your snack now, my dove. They’re best warm,” he reminds you as he motions to the pouch in your hand.

“I can wait for a little longer,” you respond as you rest a hand on the base of his head and gently scratch his scalp. If he could purr, he would’ve done so by now. “And I must correct you: these are not just best consumed warm.”

He looks up for a moment, a light confusion on his features before he rests his head against your hip again. “Why do you say so?”

“Because meals like these, comforting and delicious meals, are also best enjoyed with someone dear.”

You can’t see it but you know the ghost of a smile lingers on Leon’s lips, threatening to tug on the corner of his lips a little higher. He makes a mental note to pencil down your words on his pocket notebook, like he always did whenever you said something that deeply resonated with him. The approaching laughter of little children drew nearer, three little girls carrying either satchels or a small bucket of flowers. Leon sits back up, clearing his throat.

“My lord, feel free to select which flowers you’d like on your head. Your fair lady may assist you if you are in need of it,” the eldest tells him.

Rice flower, jasmine, wax flower, amaranthus; what will he select?

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

The minutes flew by fast as if they were mere seconds, a securely woven crown of pink, purple, and white flowers now laying atop of his golden tresses; the children had pushed longer strands of his hair back, securing them in place with the flower accessory so that Leon wouldn’t have to constantly flatten the puff atop his head. The eldest sister of the adorable trio takes out a mirror from her satchel and gives it to the blond so he can see the work they’ve done on his hair.

“It looks… magnificent,” he breathes. “Magical, even. Thank you very much, girls. This gesture is very much appreciated.”

You feel warmth creep in from the base of your neck and crawling to your cheeks, tingling from the grin you currently sport. The crown of various flora add a tenderness to his otherwise rugged appearance, adding an element reminiscent of cherubs depicted on oil paintings.

“You’re welcome, kind sir. We hope you enjoy our treat and the festival,” the middle child speaks up as she clears up the excess trimmings and leaves. “Feel free to come back to us if need be!”

“We will,” you promise as you relink arms with your lover again before turning your backs to walk on with the rest of the crowd. The sun is sinking beneath the great blue vastness as a rosy and orange hue stretched on the sky, it’s only a matter of minutes until total darkness befalls the kingdom and the time to set the lanterns free comes around.

You were enchanted with the comforting glow of candles begin to light the streets up, delicate flickers of golden dancing on tall sticks of wax so Leon’s tug through the bustling crowd shocked you a little bit. You squeezed his hand in response to the suddenness of his actions, wanting to tell him that you found his movements abrupt.

“I apologize, my dove.” He says as he momentarily turns around to face you. “It is almost time to wish on lanterns and let them float to the sky. I wish to get our lanterns a little earlier because there is something I need to do.”

Not “want” to do but need to do. His choice of words intrigues you.

After mumbling a few apologies and excuses to the crowd slowly growing more dense in festival goers, you two finally get to one of the stalls selling their lanterns. There were all sorts of lanterns and the kinds of candles they had– some were shaped like circles, some like cylinders; some of the paper used was plain and simple while others had doodles of various things like animals or simply little scribbles of circles. There were candles that had thicker wax and longer wicks, candles with scented wax, and candles with wicks infused with a substance to cause the fire to burn warmer and brighter. After selecting the lantern you both desired, you two paid with a hefty sum of copper coins.

“Leon, that’s not the path to the sea wall,” you point out as you realize that he’s no longer right behind you. “We’re supposed to walk past the stall we purchased from.”

“Yes, I know. I will take you elsewhere,” he explains. He looks a little nervous now, a finger fidgeting with the edge of the lantern paper as he shifts from one foot to the other. “I know a better place if- if that’s alright with you, love.”

You nod, following him. “It’s more than fine with me. Take me to where we need to be, mon nounours.”

Kindly taking your hand, you two begin to walk away from the growing number of people heading to the seawall. You’re not very familiar with where he’s taking you but you trust him enough to know what he’s doing, happily trailing behind him as he lights the path with the glow of your lanterns.

“Don’t let go of these, alright? It would take quite some time until we get another lantern back at the square.”

It takes less than 10 minutes until you two reach the edge of the river, right at the shore. By now, the sun had completely descended beneath the waves and let the stars take the great wide stage in the heavens above.

“Kindly hold this for me,” he instructs you as he hands you his lantern. You hold both of your lanterns, watching Leon as he bends over to the protrusion hidden in a tree near the waterside. Fingers curl around a dusty fabric and lift it off, setting it down beside a small brown boat complete with a rope, small anchor, and oars. It dawns on you what this is all about; he will take you on a boat ride and celebrate the festival down the river with him. Your heart leaps and drums against your ribs, pulse pounding against your neck.

“You may get inside now..”

You raise your garments above your ankles with one hand as the other holds lanterns, stepping inside the boat. Leon pushes the boat, undocking it from the shoreline and before the boat drifts out too far into the water, he joins you.

“Look up at the sky, love.” He instructs you with a glimmer in his eyes, the silver circle of the moon reflected in arctic cerulean irises.

You do so and you are greeted by a wondrous sight, the kind of view that you were certain could only be depicted in intricate oil paintings that hung in long winding halls of the palace you called your home. Drifting along the tranquil river, the lanterns begin to rise and light up the void sky. They gradually begin to drift further away from the ground, becoming stars in the sky now painted with the hopes and wishes of the people. Each golden orb flickering reflected on the gentle ripples of water, creating a mesmerizing waltz of shadows and illumination. The hushed splish splash of water harmonized with the wind blowing against your ears and the rustling of foliage, setting the perfect musical score in this dream-like moment. More lanterns continued to join the others in the sky, the wind directing them to another point in the sky like a captain to his ship; the peace that came with the festival bathed over the kingdom in a dream-like ambience.

“They’re all so beautiful,” you whisper. “I feel… light, at peace. Calm.”

What you did to his heart is sheer, inexplicable magic.

“Yes,” he agreed softly. “They really are beautiful.” His head was not even craned upwards when he uttered those words, his gaze locked on you.

After a few moments of silent observation, you poke him on his arm as you gesture to the lanterns still with you.

“Of course,” he says with a sheepish smile as he takes his.

“Don’t forget to make a wish,” you remind him before you close your eyes and silently thank the universe for everything good– prosperity in your kingdom, good health, and Leon.

He closes his eyes too and wishes upon every single lantern and star in the sky that the universe would lead you to where you will be happiest in, even if it’s not with him. With a breath of anticipation, both of your hands release the glowing lanterns and watch it gracefully ascend as it carries shared dreams into the expanse of darkness. The world seems to have paused as Leon locked eyes with you, all his wishes and greatest dreams reflected in the twinkle of your gaze.

“I love you, my greatest dream.” The blond says as he takes your hand and envelopes them with his own. “I confess once again, with all the fervor in my lowly heart, that I am and will always be yours to keep. I am yours, now and forever, but only if you will choose to have me.”

You smile and lift your conjoined hands, pressing a chaste kiss to the back of his knuckles. Training must have been harsh the other day, a flushed soreness on the peaks of his knuckle bones could be seen when his fingers are curled.

“My most cherished knight and precious lover, I yearn to spend every moment in your presence and adore you as you so richly deserve. My grief will truly be beyond measure if I cannot have you in my life; the tides are nothing without the moon to beckon them.”

His normally composed demeanor softens, revealing a vulnerable and sensitive man that you are lucky to see. The angular lines of his face gave way to a loopy smile as his cheeks were tinted faint pink, a manifestation of his shy affection.

“I am but a humble palace guard, my thane. You speak of high praises that I believe I am not yet worthy of.”

You withdraw one hand from his to cup his cheek, thumb skimming over his cheekbone. He nuzzles into your touch, craving for more of your pillowy touch.

“No need to be shy when you’re with me, Leon.”

“Ah– yes, of course. I just… to me, to be in your company is to feel a profound contentment. Nothing else matters except for you.”

You chuckle, glowing with the sincerity of his words. Who knew that a scary, stoic man like him could be capable of such poetic compositions.

The itch to feel his lips against yours is an itch you can scarcely endure so your hand leaves Leon’s cheek to bunch the fabric on his vest, tugging him closer to yourself. His breath catches on his throat, inky pupils swallowing the blue of his eyes like a void.

“Stop me if I am pushing things.”

You begin with a kiss to both his cheeks, then the tip of his nose then the corners of his lips. You look into his eyes to spot any hesitation or discomfort, not wanting to make him feel dirty.

“Do you want this the same way I do?” you ask with lidded yet cautious eyes.

“I want this unfathomably more than you do.”

His left hand settles on the base of your head, fingers combed through your hair as his right hand settles on your hip, not resting the entirety of its weight even though you won’t scold him if he did; he just wants to be careful. The final tug propels him forward to you, his lips landing on yours.

Just with your lips you could feel Leon tense up and freeze before relaxing into the gesture, tilting his head at a slight angle so his nose wouldn’t obstruct your way. His eyebrows scrunch in focus, feeling you and only you and the comforting embrace of your warm lips against him. If there could be a moment that he can revisit and experience for the first time, it would be the first kiss he shared with you by the garden wall as he stood on a wobbling wooden ladder. Every nerve was lit with an electric thrill that gave you courage to deepen the kiss, fueled by the need to worship this part of your lover. His hands traveled from your hip to the small of your back, wanting to usher your closer to him without parting lips for even a second. Air was overrated in that moment, breathing expertly cycled to prolong this magical moment. It grew more fervent, crazed and drunk on devotion; you gave him a light nip on his puffy bottom lip, eliciting a soft sigh that fanned warm breath on your parted lips. Finally you pull away, breathing heavily and catching your breath as you rest your warm forehead against his, post-kiss. You hear Leon chuckling as he cupped your face and you find yourself following suit.

“That was,” he breathily whispers. “Spellbinding.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Leon pulls back, readjusting his clothes and trying to smooth the hair on the back of his head that your grip might’ve ruffled. You fix yourself too, feeling the puffiness of your lips by the tips of your fingers. You look relatively well-kept together so you help Leon in trying to look less frazzled and flustered, readjusting the flower crown that had become tilted.

“We should probably head back,” your lover says, sounding almost disappointed.

“You are not even trying to hide your discontent, mon nounours. It’s charming.” You smirk.

“I think that it is a shame that this evening feels too hasty for such an enthralling event,” he mumbles. “The King and Queen Mother will worry for you and it is for the best that we make our way back to avoid a talking-to.”

His hands find the oars, steering the boat back to the direction of the shore. You can see the disappointment on his face but he does his best to veil it, to avoid dampening your feelings. You place a hand on one of the oars, interrupting his movements.

“I have informed my mother and father that they shall expect me to return late,” you tell him and he almost can’t believe it. “Earlier this afternoon, before you came to pick me up for our afternoon escapade, I advised my parents to expect my delayed arrival at around the wee hours of the morning. They protested but I responded that I am capable of making my own decisions and defending myself, as well as that I will be in the company of a trusted official in the royal court. You have proven yourself worthy of spending time around me countless times and I do not hesitate to extend my hours of–”

Leon hastily envelopes you with a tight embrace, rocking the boat and rippling the surface of the velvet surface of the river. He sways your bodies side to side and you can feel a wide beam right by your cheek, pleased that Leon doesn’t have to mope about wishing to spend the night with you.

NOTE - 3 nights of sobbing over a book and sleeping at 3-4 AM resulted to a cold, which pushed back my original posting schedule <3 I'm okay now, still got a cold, but less tired and crusty-feeling compared to a day ago. Thank you to the lovelies who filled my inbox with requests and don't worry, I'll get around to writing them soon before school starts again. I hope the anon who requested this loves it, I'm so sorry for the delay but I hope this fic managed to live up to your expectations 🌷🌷 I'm craving a matcha roll and some sushi rn but I'm unfortunately broke so watching mukbangs and sobbing will have to do for now. Thanks to everyone who waited for me to come back from the break, I appreciate it tons!!!!!!!! I've got more fic ideas in store so I'll get to those too after finishing up requests (and they're also prolly angsty, I miss writing angst). ALSO DAWG TRUMP GOT SHOT??? LIKE IM NOT AMERICAN AND NOT FROM THAT COUNTRY BUT HELLO??? ASSASSINATIONS R SO IN AGAIN???? And I saw Leon edits to Trump getting shot too like 😭😭 It's funny ngl... like ik my goat wouldn't miss (JKJK DONT GO AFTER ME PLS THIS IS A JOKE!!!). Anyways, that's it and thank you for reading my fics!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I <333333333 UUUUUUUUU!!!!!!!!!!

The space dividers are from @saradika , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

[taintandviolent]

Drives Me Insane ; Jimmy Darling x Reader

summary: What started off as an innocent, summer picnic at the beach turned into a naughty dalliance with the one and only Jimmy Darling. 🦞 Reader is from Southern California.

word count: 2.4K words!

w a r n i n g s: SMUT, as per usual, kissing, PDA and semi-public sex (sort of), oral sex.

a/n: I just had this brainrot idea of Jimmy Darling at the beach and I had to get it down. I hope everyone enjoys this as much as I did writing and daydreaming about it!!! not beta-read.

full fic under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! / written to this

Your feet kicked water up towards the dry sand as you walked, hand in hand with The Lobster Boy. Outside of the circus tent, he was as normal as every other guy. Better, in fact, than most of the guys you'd tried to go steady with. From his manners to his looks, he had you wrapped around one of his conjoined fingers. And he'd done it in only a day. To be fair, you knew that he likely did this with every girl he met in every town he travelled in, but he was sure making you feel special.

Butterflies still flapped their excited little wings in your stomach from you and Jimmy's closeness in the ocean. You two had gone out just far enough, the tips of your toes still hitting sand. He had hoisted you up out of the water each time a big wave came, gripping you firmly at the waist with his big hands. You couldn't help but laugh each time, holding on tight to the curve of his shoulders. At one point, he'd pulled you in for a kiss and wrapped both arms around you, his hands just grazing the top of your ass. You shivered and blamed the cold water.

Jimmy dropped down to the blanket, lounging happily. You towelled yourself off delicately, wicking away the crystalline drops that dotted your skin. His hair was only damp at the nape of his neck, but Jimmy didn't seem to mind his body being wet. You didn't mind it either - not after seeing the way the water glistened on his abdomen. After taking your hair out of the swimcap, you shook your head lightly, your lush curls bouncing with the motion. Thankfully, your style had maintained itself. Finally, you joined him on the blanket, stretching your legs out over the edge to dip your toes into the warm sand.

A seagull sang its shrill song above you, and you watched through squinted eyes as it flew towards the horizon, gliding over the breeze. With the sand between your red-tipped toes, the briny sea air tousling your locks, and a handsome guy by your side, you were in heaven. Everything about this felt like a movie, from the cute little picnic basket he'd brought, to the way that the sun glittered, reflecting off the waves as they crashed onto the shore. You looked over, watching Jimmy Darling as he lazily watched the sea, propping himself up on his elbows. He was still shirtless and wore a pair of yellow Catalina swim trunks that complimented the tanness of his skin beautifully. His muscles were on display for you to ogle, which you did willingly. He really was handsome; an All-American Boy with his chocolatey eyes and sugar-sweet smile.

Noticing that your attention was on him, he immediately sat up, reaching for the picnic basket. "You want a sandwich or somethin'? A soda? What can I getcha', doll?"

He was so attentive to your needs – butterflies fluttered again in your stomach at the thought. With a demure, red-lipped smile, you shook your head and with the back of your hand, brushed away the strand of hair that had blown across your face. 

"No, nothing, Jimmy. I was just looking at you..." Your voice was soft, sweet, and to Jimmy, had a hint of that Southern California accent. 

"Oh yea?" He asks, shifting his weight to lean closer to you. His eyes darted to your lips and with a cheeky grin, his tongue pressed against the back of his teeth, wanting to taste you. 

"Yeah!" you said back, playfully stern. You pivoted your body to face his, daring him to counter you. And... He did, by dipping his head down to plant a quick kiss on your waiting lips. You tittered, delighted, licking the remnants of him off your lips. 

"Mmh," he hummed, kissing you again. And again. "Mmmh! Baby! You taste like a.. like a cupcake or somethin', you know that?" 

His big, strong hands roamed your body, starting at your thighs and moving up and around to the small of your back. His touch was feverish and hungry, and you watched them as they moved. He heard your breath hitch and redirected his kisses to your collarbone, suddenly hungrier. He sucked at the skin, surely leaving hickeys in his path.

"Jimmy– Jimmy!" You bowed your head, almost ducking away from him.

"Sorry, baby, I just can't keep my hands off of ya'."

"...drives me insane..." you whispered, before turning your eyes to the horizon. You were getting too turned on to think clearly, and the knot in your stomach wound tighter around itself. You wanted him. Bad.

Your eyes lifted, looking sheepishly up at the other beachy patrons as they passed, their feet leaving imprints on the sand in front of you. Some of them watched as Jimmy nuzzled into your neck, smearing hungry kisses along your skin. His hands were wrapped around you and hiding behind your back, so to most, you assumed you looked like a normal couple, happily canoodling by the seaside. You felt the sting of disapproval from some older onlookers, but the way that Jimmy was kissing and sucking on the nape of your neck was too distracting -- you couldn't find it in you to care enough to stop him a second time.

Jimmy – now Jimmy was on cloud nine. The sun was warm on his shoulders, the breeze fluffing his caramel locks, and a pretty girl was in his arms. Nothin' better in his mind. As soon as the troupe had pulled into Santa Monica, parking their caravans and setting up in an empty lot near the beach, Jimmy's radar was up. He'd heard rumours of how pretty the West Coast girls were, and after spending so much time on the East Coast, he'd been hankering to taste their sunkissed, salty skin. When he'd spotted you in line with your perfect red pout and shimmering locks, he'd made a beeline for you, schmoozing and talking about how much you were gonna' enjoy the show. He, of course, wasn't wrong and it might've been because he paid special attention to you during his musical number. Whatever the reason was, he'd asked you out on a picnic date, and much to his delight, you accepted (although perhaps a little too quickly for your liking).

"Baby," he murmured into your skin, just below your ear. The closeness sent a shiver down your spine. "Whaddya' say we go back in one of those tents and have a little fun, huh?"

You looked behind him, following his gaze. There was a row of striped changing tents near the top of the beach, some of which were unoccupied. You couldn't help but cover your mouth as a gasp escaped; what he was proposing seemed so naughty. In public? You'd never... oh, but with him? You would. You'd do anything in the world with him and all he had to do was ask.

"You promise we won't get caught?"

"I promise."

Jimmy got up first, hand extended towards you to lift you up. You took it without another thought, and after being hoisted up, he took off, running giddily towards the tents. Giggling, you followed behind Jimmy as he ran, his hands wrapped firmly around your wrist, practically dragging you up the bank.

Once you made it to the tents, you popped your head in, taking a curious peek. The rest of your body followed shortly after. There was a small stool inside, intended for people to sit on while they changed. It wouldn't be utilized for that purpose, you thought.

Jimmy stood outside the tent, casually rocking back and forth on his heels, his fingers locked behind his back. He even whistled a happy little tune until no one would suspect that he was going to pop inside with you. To any passerbys, it just looked like he was waiting for his girlfriend to exit the tent. No funny business happening there. Heck no. 

When Jimmy finally ducked into the tent, he had a starved glimmer in his eyes and headed straight for you, his hands connecting to your hips. Your mouths collided, tongues wrestling each other for dominance like two horny teenagers. He took fistfuls of your breasts through the fabric of your swim top, kneading them hungrily. Abruptly, he dug underneath the elastic and tweaked your nipple, rubbing at it with his thumb. You broke the kiss to glance down. Smiled coyly. Jimmy's yellow shorts weren't doing much to hide his erection; the thin fabric had a clear outline of his quickly hardening cock, and a wet spot grew at the tip.

The sun shone through the red and white striped fabric, casting a warm, ruddy glow on Jimmy's face. You wondered if he felt at home in this miniature circus tent. "Hang on a sec, wait..." you whispered, as you reached around his back, tying the panels of fabric shut.

"You're that worried, huh?" Jimmy's hand slipped from your top.

"I don't know what kinda' freaky stuff you're into, but I don't want anyone walking in."

With a hushed tone, he replied: ,"Nobody is gonna' walk in, dollface."

He wrapped one arm around your back, pulling you tight to his hip and kissed you again. Jimmy's other hand trailed down your bare stomach until he came to the hem of your ruched shorts, where the tips of his fingers delved behind the elastic, creeping closer and closer to your folds. Once he found your slit, he slipped in between and immediately applied pressure to your clit, teasing you. You gasped, your breath hitching in your throat. Shortly after, he started drawing small circles around the bundle of nerves, hot and swelling with each passing second. Everything he did felt so good.

Feeling confident, Jimmy teased your entrance with his fingers. His deformity certainly hadn't inhibited him from gaining experience in pleasuring women. In fact, Jimmy swore up and down it made him better. Women across the US craved his conjoined fingers with all their girth and length, moaning desperately as they hit all the right spots when he fingered them.

In fear of making you scream his name, Jimmy couldn't give you the full Lobster Boy treatment - not here. He inserted just the tips of his fingers, up to the first knuckles, pumping slowly in and out. His thumb massaged your clit still, the dual stimulation sending to the skies and back again. At this rate, it wouldn't be long before you came. You were wetter than the ocean, and he loved it. Jimmy's tongue ran along his bottom lip, watching you as you writhed in his grip.

"Feel good?"

Breathlessly, you nodded. Jimmy withdrew his slick fingers from your cunt, his weighted gaze on you. He hummed in satisfaction. The dirty, wanton look in your eyes made his cock twitch.

"Baby, you wanna'....?" His eyes scanned over your pretty red lips before dropping to his groin. With one hand, Jimmy tugged his shorts down, letting out a breathy groan as his heavy cock bobbed in front of your tummy. Velvet heat pressed into your flesh, the pre-cum that oozed from the slit sliding against your stomach as he breathed. You knew what he was asking.

You sunk to your knees, settling into the shade-cooled sand. With Jimmy's cock in front of your face, you swallowed, wetting your throat. His conjoined digits wrapped around the base of it, squeezing it tightly. Your lips parted and Jimmy smiled, ready for what came next. You leaned forward, extending your tongue over your bottom lip and carefully, Jimmy slapped the tip of his dick against it. As your fingers wrapped around the shaft, he let out a throaty groan, jerking his head back. You worked it with your hand, and closed your lips around the tip of it, sucking gently. Looking up at him with those big, bright eyes, you watched Jimmy's breaths go from even to haphazard, his chest rising and falling quickly. Your tongue massaged at the underside of his cock, taking it deeper into your mouth.

You gagged softly, quietly and Jimmy clenched his teeth, feeling your throat close around his dick. It was hot and wet and strong – he swallowed again, watching you as worked. The urges were getting too strong, and the tension in his abdomen wound tighter. Without a word, Jimmy bent down and pulled you to your feet, his cock slipping wetly from your mouth. With a grunt, he yanked your shorts down just enough to expose your cunt. 

"Sorry, I just... I gotta'..."

"We can't go all the way here, are you –"

"No-no, baby, we're not gonna', I just gotta' be closer to you, I'm gonna' –"

He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. With his cock still wet from your mouth, Jimmy began jerking it, right into your folds. Pre-cum dripped from the slit, providing more lubrication. The tip bumped against your puffy clit over and over again and before you could stop it, the pulsing wave rushed over you. You wrapped both arms around his neck, hanging on him as your legs quivered with the powerful orgasm that shook your core. You moaned softly into his ear, riding out the sensation by grinding against his cock. With his head filled with lewd thoughts of pushing his dick deep inside your pussy, Jimmy was fast behind you, exploding over you in hot, white ropes of ecstasy.

Finally feeling like you could stand on your own again, you rested your head against his bare chest, listening to his heartbeat as it slowed. Jimmy rested his chin atop your head, panting and pet the small of your back.

"See? No one caught us." He teased. You slapped at his bicep and disconnected from him, moving around him to exit the tent. Jimmy followed behind, this time, not putting any distance between the two of you. Thankfully, no one noticed. Everyone was too busy enjoying their beach day.

Everything was as you left it, except that the blanket had blown over slightly. You toed the edge of it back into place. Jimmy approached you from behind, wrapping his arms around your hips. He kissed your ear, nuzzling into you.

"You wanna' see the show again tonight, pretty baby?"

You nodded. You did. And you wanted whatever was going to happen after the show, too.

[irrealisms]

diptych || a c!crimeboys web weave

[sources and IDs under cut]

The first collage is a collection of 14 images.

Image 1: A human hands a raccoon a gun. It is the same image CC!Wilbur sent CC!Tommy with the caption "Me passing the dirty crime boy title to you."

Image 2: Question 4 of 15 Do you love your brother? Answers, please choose 1

Image 3: WILBUR: This isn't just a silly river delta to me anymore, it's got a name, it's got a story, it's— it's L’Manberg, and it's … to me it's, it's you.

Image 4: A painting of Cain and Abel. Cain holds a club in one hand and Abel's wrist in the other as they walk forward. While it is in the background and mostly covered by the other images, their faces and hands are visible.

Image 5: Question 5 of 15 Liar. You feel guilty, don't you? Answers, please choose 1

Image 6: A screenshot from The Fall by SAD-ist. Wilbur has his hand on Tommy's shoulder and is leaning forward to speak to him. Tommy looks anxious.

Image 7: "Am I my brother's keeper?"

Image 8: A piece of paper pinned to the wall, reading "Someone is looking up to you. Don't let that person down." In the context of the collage, it is pinned onto Wilbur's sleeve/upper arm from the SAD-ist screenshot.

Image 9: Question 6 of 15 But you're the one that left him. Answers, please choose 1 [check mark next to the selected answer] I wanted to and I wanted it to hurt him so he could let go of me.

Image 10: WILBUR: I’m glad, Tommy! You know what, I’m glad! Because me and you were never good for that server. We just weren’t!

Image 11: When I close my eyes I'm climbing in the dark Trying not to fall apart Sometimes I get so high Falling is the only out I see And I don't wanna take you down with me

Image 12: a softer world comic. the text reads "At my worst, I worry you'll realize/you deserve better./At my best, I worry you won't."

Image 13: Question 7 of 15 Do you think your brother loves you? Answers, please choose 1

Image 14: WILBUR: Tommy, come over here, please, I— Tommy, I was scared I wouldn’t see you again if you didn’t forgive me. And I didn’t want to not see you again.

The second image is a collage of 11 images.

Image 1: WILBUR: You love it, don’t you, Tommy? You love… L’Manberg…

Image 2: a softer sea comic. the text reads "You're my brother and I love you./That's it./No punchline."

Image 3: A painting of two men standing next to each other. they look similar. the one on the right puts his hand flat above both of their heads, sheltering them; the one on the left has his hand up to touch the hand of the one on the right. the painting is titled My Brother's Keeper.

Image 4: I will stand in the dark for you I will hold you back by force I will stand here right outside your door I won’t see you disgraced I will protect your name and your heart Because I miss my friend

Image 5: A screenshot from Final Waltz by SAD-ist. Wilbur has his hand on Tommy's shoulder. Tommy looks up at him.

Image 6: In essence, the entire Bible is written as an affirmative response to this question.

Image 7: TOMMY: I believe that everyone’s got a little bit of good in them. And I know that Wilbur had good in him. Alright?

Image 8: This is no garden. This is my brother and I need a shovel to love him.

Image 9: A collage of an open book with forests, butterflies, etc. the text reads: i care for you still and i will forever.

Image 10: A painting of two young boys wading in the ocean and holding hands. The smaller one has spiderman swim trunks.

Image 11: TOMMY: It’s not about chances, Foolish. It’s about making sure you don’t give up on the people you care about.

[bectoshi]

risk - bokuto koutarou

:: bokuto knows you as well as he knows himself. all he asks is that you trust him.

!! female reader, fear ig??, jumping off a bridge into water, nothing bad happens, heights, cursing

miniseries masterlist

you were completely and utterly convinced that bokuto koutarou had lost his mind when he first proposed the idea to you. 

his earlier pleads of just once and you won’t regret it now echo in your mind, fragments of a distant memory.

because here you are, up on the wooden railing of some bridge on the side of the freeway while cars and people pass by behind you, blissfully unaware of the war currently taking place inside your mind. 

he had helped you up and is still holding your hand as you remain unmoving; eyes locked on the cloudy sky above and condemning yourself for every one of your decisions leading up to this moment. 

on both sides of you are groups of friends and other couples, taking their own turns diving, doing flips, and, for the unfortunate ones, bellyflopping down the nearly 20 foot fall into the waves below you.

but directly to your right is bokuto. 

and despite the death grip you have on his hand, his hold on yours is firm and steadying. you’re okay. you’re safe with me, he seemed to wordlessly say.

“tell me what’s going through your mind, gorgeous. if you really don’t want to then i’ll help you down. but ’m right here with you when you decide.” he smiles, genuine.

first it’s his calloused hand giving yours a reassuring squeeze. then, it’s the encouraging glint in his eyes. anchors to the chaotic whirlwind that was your mind. 

you do trust bokuto. and you do believe that you’re safe with him.

so your hand disconnects from his the same time your feet lift off the wooden ledge. 

at first you feel the wind. everywhere. that, and the kaleidoscope of butterflies beating in your stomach.

the two second fall feels like an eternity. 

it’s a shock when you finally reach the ocean. the water is cold and salty and it invades all of your senses. it was also quiet. serene.

immediately disturbing your peace is the sudden surge of bubbles and recognizable flash of light colored hair among the water’s dark ripples. 

you gasp for air when your face breaks the water’s surface. and, true to his word, you see bokuto paddling towards you; the huge smile he wore adorning his features.  

“atta girl! i knew you could do it!” his pride in you is unmistakable. you know how he can never hide his excitement. 

“that was fucking amazing, kou!” you’re now wearing matching grins. it's hard not to return his smile when he looks at you like that.

you had always wondered how to respond when asked the overdone hypothetical of if your friends jumped off of a bridge, would you? 

now, you swim back to shore alongside bokuto and you know that the answer will always be yes. as long as he was by your side.

“let’s go again.”

[lilac-5ky]

The Party (Satoru x Fem!Reader)

Plot: You decide to surprise your boyfriend on his birthday

Tags: Birthday fluff, Comedy, Hurt/Comfort, Slight Angst, Shibuya incident?What Shibuya incident? (year is 2018), Established Relationship, Gojo Senpai, Satoru being the adorable menace everyone loves, SO. MANY. CHARACTERS. MAKING. APPEARANCES, feels like an actual jjk ep at this point, (fic deteriorates a bit over the latter part as my mental health does, writing until 6 am is exhausting, i know im late but spare me)

Word Count: Slightly under 9k.

A/N: Happy late Birthday, my love 💙💙💙

Masterlist | Requests | AO3

“Are we there yet?”

“Almost there—watch your step!” You warn, only to lose your footing a second later as you smash head first into your boyfriend’s back.

There is no way Satoru doesn’t know where the two of you are headed. Even with his technique supposedly turned off and your shaky hands concealing his curious eyes, all the things that make Jujutsu Tech into the place that raised generations of sorcerers (yours, included) continue to exist, bearing witness to his intentionally dumb guesses.

“Is it the beach? Are you taking me to see the ocean?” Satoru excites. “Aw, baby! You should have told me so; I would have brought my swimming trunks with! Although, I hafta say swimming in December is probably a bad idea, my nipples will freeze and fall right off. You wouldn’t want that, right?”

A sigh evades your lips, expelled as a little white cloud of frustration. On second thought, his mouth was what needed to be covered. Preferably stitched.

“I appreciate your enthusiasm, but we aren’t going to the beach”—aw, shoot—“and your nipples get to live another day.” Your teeth chatter. Tiptoeing behind him with upstretched arms is already hard on its own. Doing so in the cold is purely exhausting.

You lose count of how many torii gates you cross, the joint click of your shoes switching to an uncoordinated thump as you go from traversing cobblestone paths to climbing an endless uphill of stairs, your stroll, again, feeling like part of a survival show. Curse Master Tengen. They might have only been responsible for the barriers, though in your scare, that doesn’t stop you from holding them accountable.

We are going to die.

Or more like you are going to die, considering Satoru’s already secured himself a life net in the form of your poor broken-to-be bones, and that’s the best case scenario you can hope for, the worst being having to repeat your ascension from the bottom step up.

“Then, are we visiting Himeji Castle?” Satoru continues, the frigid temperature not enough to crack his spirit. “Because I know the single best place for Tama Tsubaki. So fragrant, so elegant, so deliciously sweet! You haven’t been to Himeji before, have you? It’s also known for its excellent leather craftsmanship. Last time I went there, they had these insanely pretty wallets with—”

“N-no!” You yelp, voice as strained as if you’re walking on a tightrope. Shivering, “Wouldn’t you have noticed if I took you on a 4-hour road trip?”

“But time always moves so fast when I’m with you.” He coos in response, his tone serious when he asks, “Wanna take a break? Promise to keep my eyes closed till we reach the top. And after that too, if you want.”

Silky lashes map out the inside of your palms as they flutter against them, sweet little butterfly kisses that convince you to withdraw your hands. After all, you’d hate for his birthday to be stained with blood.

Not yours, at least.

“If you dare open them, I’ll kill you.”

“How scary!” Satoru captures your frozen hand and slips it in his coat’s pocket with far too great precision for someone with impaired vision. You don’t complain. Not even when he makes you bump into every single step on your way up, giggling to himself, until, as promised, you reach the summit and he lets go for you to assume your previous positions.

“I don’t”—pant—“miss”—pant—“walking this w-walk.” You muster in between labored breaths, palms on your knees as you crouch forward like an elderly lady with chronic back pain. “Wh-what are you smiling for?”

“Nooooooothing!” Satoru chirps, soft dimples carving hard into his milky complexion. “Just takes me back to the time when you still called me Gojo Senpai is all.”

Your youth comes playing in your head like an old cassette forced to rewind, bittersweet recollections sending you on a sudden trip down memory lane.

You met Satoru at the peak of spring and fell in love with him over the course of fall—a swirl of autumn leaves coloring the currently naked maple trees red. Muddy soles and uniforms soggy from the rain. Chasing after an umbrella you agreed to share and hopscotching across shallow puddles. Laughing louder than the pending storm.

But before that, bickering. So much bickering that continuously tested the patience of those around you, arguments over video games escorting you to morning assembly, and plans to catch new movie releases sealing your goodbyes.

The bitterness of Shoko’s cigarettes and the promise to never smoke again. Arcades and electronics in Akihabara. Karaoke and conveyor belt sushi in Shibuya. Getting a stranger to buy you your first beer and puking your guts outside a convenience store in Shinjuku. The promise to never drink again.

Moon-viewing festival. The unforgettable sight of him in a yukata, your heart multiplying itself into your eyes. Stolen glances and not-so-accidental nudges. Your first kiss tasting of melon soda, your second burning faster than the wick of his sparkler. Another kind of promise.

The giddiness of first love filters the film pink. Five-minute dates behind the old gym in flash forward. Late-night expeditions to each other’s dorms. Your loss of innocence overshadowed by the sudden loss of Haibara. Tears that threaten to spill out of the sequence. Suguru’s betrayal. The strength to move forward.

You’ve come a long way since the days you cheekily called him Gojo Senpai without a care in the world, and even though tragedy managed to forever sully them, standing here with him now makes it worth the pain. Given the chance, you’d do it all over again.

Rolling the cricks around your neck and shoulders, you walk up to Satoru, a tug at the lowest hanging tuft of hair signaling for him to meet your height. Knees bent. Eyes still closed. Lips still curled. Features so undeniably beautiful at 29 as they were at 17.

“Don’t move.” You mumble, smiling softly as you watch him pucker his lips in anticipation of a kiss. Instead, you fish out a pair of rectangular shades from inside your pocket and place them over the bridge of his nose.

“Let’s go before we get scolded for being late again.” Your hand steals his this time around, ushering him forward. A speckle of heat shooting from your fingers to your cheeks. “I trust you not to spoil your own surprise, Gojo Senpai.”

You are less than thirty steps away from your destination when, without a warning, the man behind you stops moving, forcing you to halt with him.

“What is it?” You ask, your body reeled closer to his from the bind of your fingers. “If you’re gonna ask whether I’m taking you to Laputa, I’m sorry to disappoint, but I’m still figuring out the coordinates.”

“That’s not it.” He huffs a chuckle against your knuckles, tenderly brushing them against his cheek. “But drop a pin when you do. Always wanted to take a nap in that fluffy flower bed. I’m sure it tastes fluffy too, just like whipped cream.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.” You return, a yawn coaxed at the mention of napping. “So, what is it? Why did we stop?”

“I’m cold.”

“Well, so am I, but we really are close this time. If you just—”

“You should kiss me.” Satoru announces with solemnity better befitting a declaration of war. He realizes that himself, bringing his free hand to ruffle the hair on the back of his skull. Awkwardly. Ears tinged red. Cutely. “That would warm me up.”

“Is that your excuse?” You ask, chapped lips rubbing together. Your heartbeat felt in your throat. You shouldn’t be feeling like this. Not when you’ve known each other for the better part of your lives. It’s not normal. You don’t think you are.

“Nope.” He balances things out with a boyish smile that doesn’t make things any better for the lovesick teenage girl residing in your heart. She doesn’t know any better but to fawn over it. “My excuse is that we haven’t kissed here before. We’ve kissed there,” you follow his pointer, first to a bench made of stone and then to a blind spot behind some shrubs, “and there—many times there, heh, but not here. So we should kiss.” He reasons with a simplistic, nearly childish mindset. One you can’t quite argue against.

Until his spell breaks on you rather unceremoniously.

“I thought your eyes were closed!”

“Well, they were, but then I—hah, stop pullin’ like that—started missing your pretty face too much. Can’t deny me the simple joys in life, sweet cheeks.” He grins. “C’mon, just one kiss. Then we can meet with Yuji and the others. Promise I’ll act extra surprised!”

“Y-you knew?” Your eyes widen.

“I’ve known for about a week now? Heard you two talking on the phone, plus the kids asked to be put on cleaning duty when they usually leave everything to Megumi. Then a ton of chairs started to go missing, and—”

You barely bother listening to the rest, too caught up in your thoughts for Satoru’s detailed explanation of where it all went wrong to matter. Every year without exception—from your 16th birthday party-for-two in that tiny storage room you were accidentally locked in together to last year’s all-out murder mystery dinner party—he’s managed to sweep you off your feet, and yet you can’t throw him one party without it being spoiled.

You aren’t a planner. You know that. You know, but somehow you hoped this year would be different. That, twelve years after his insistence to spend his birthday in your company alone took root, (“Why would I want to spend this day with anyone other than you, angel? We have tons of fun together, don’t we? Just me and my special girl. Speaking of, any special requests for your birthday? I have some ideas myself, hehe~”) and one year after he stopped waiting for an apparition to show up and celebrate with him, he’d allow himself to bask in the appreciation of the living.

“Are you mad?”

The buzz of his voice quiets down, the paleness of a winter morning dawning beneath snowy lashes as he peers at you from above the rim of his sunglasses. Snowflakes of wonder stirring in his irises that contain them like two perfect snow globes, trapped in them, an ageless moment of the past.

“I’m relieved.” Satoru whispers, so faintly you almost miss it.

“Re…lieved?”

“You brought everyone here, right?” You nod. “Without blackmailing anyone?”

“Just Nanami.” You admit. “And Ijichi—Shoko promised to take him out for drinks if he came.”

“That’s good.” His lips pull into a smile warm enough to thaw your worries. “Honestly, I’m not the biggest fan of my own birthday.”

“I’ve noticed,” you interrupt. “You aren’t the only one perceptive here, Mister Six-Eyes.”

He gives you a funny look, creases forming over his brow as an imaginary zipper is drawn across the corners of his lips.

You unzip it. “Please continue, Great Gojo Senpai.”

His eyes light up. Satoru isn’t one for honorifics, yet hearing you address him as such makes the lovesick teenage boy in his heart shudder with excitement.

“You know what birthday I got the biggest haul for?” A shake of your head prompts him to continue. “Seventh.” Figures, you add. He nods. “Wanna know what they got me? A Hokusai painting. You know. One of those wavy ones.” Only he would ever refer to a Japanese classic that way. “But seven-year-old kids don’t care about dead people’s paintings or Shinto shrine visits. They want adventure, balloons, and luscious Gâteau au Chocolat. The new Street Fighter game, maybe.” His fingers snap together. “They want Laputa.”

You forget your hand is still in his until it’s given a light squeeze, Satoru nervously fiddling with your fingers while he mulls over what to say next.

“Bottom line is, birthdays with the clan suuuuuucked. And then, as I got older, I grew tall enough to outrun those stupid goons watching over me. So I’d run straight to Suguru’s house, drag him to the station, and from there, we’d go to that one pastry shop in Shinjuku and buy every cake on display. We’d eat till we both got sick—hah, you wouldn’t think his stomach was this sensitive with all those curses he gobbled up, right?—and then a few years later we met Shoko, and she’d put out her cigarette on my share.” He hisses like a distressed cat. “Then we met you”—another squeeze—“and those were the best birthdays of my life. Back when we were all together.”

“Satoru—”

“I didn’t think I could have that again.” He cuts you off. “But you said you got everyone together, and while some of us are no longer here, a lot are. This is good. You did well. I’m relieved, really. I’m happy.”

By the time Satoru finishes talking, you find yourself at a loss for words, blankly staring at his unaffected expression. It’s easy to forget how vulnerable he can be in those rare outbursts of sincerity; easy to forget that the one branded as the strongest is a person who cries and breaks too, and even easier to let yourself be deceived by that happy-go-lucky attitude. But as a smile begins to take shape upon your features, you can see where he’s coming from.

You are relieved.

“What are you smiling for?” Satoru asks in the same manner you did earlier.

“Nooooooothing!” You shamelessly steal his line. “Just thinking about the sorry look on your face when you realize there’s no chocolate cake.”

“You evil witch!” He proclaims, mouth hanging slack and forefinger pointing in accusation. “Next you’re gonna tell me you didn’t buy candles either!”

“Actually…”

You take hold of his finger before he can protest any further. Not that he wants to when both his hands are enveloped in the warmth of your smaller ones, childishly swinging by your sides. Back and forth. Up and down. Round and round. Arms overlapping as you both step closer, chuckling at a joke only your eyes seem to know.

“About that kiss.” You begin, laughing again at the small, exasperated mhm your boyfriend lets out, his Adam’s apple bobbing under the high neck of his sweater. “Are you still feeling cold?”

“So cold.” Satoru wiggles his shoulders as if he’s truly shivering. “Warm me up before the cold hand of death takes me away. Pleaseeeee.”

You aren’t one to deny him. Tiptoeing forward, you crane your neck so you can reach higher, while he bends his knees to shorten himself, meeting you halfway. Heavy breaths are shared as your noses brush together. The subtle notes of bergamot on his clothes blending with the wintry crisp in the atmosphere. Eagerness tugging at his bottom lip.

You might not be one to deny him, but you definitely are the type to tease him.

“Why don’t you do it? Why should I be the one to kiss you?”

“Wha—because I asked you!” Satoru quips.

“And?”

“And I have Senpai rights. Plus you didn’t pay boyfriend tax this morning, and come think of it, you didn’t wish me a Happy Birthday either!” He gasps like he only realized that just now. He builds his entire case around it. “Birthday Boy demands it. You have no choice but to give in or you’ll be cursed for your next seven birthdays!”

“But I thought you didn’t like your own birthday.”

“Baby!” Satoru finally breaks, his voice reduced to a high-pitched whine. “Even so, you can’t be mean to me on my own birthd—”

His lips are warmer than yours when you nullify the distance, conveying the softness and fruitiness of your stolen chapstick. A smirk is written on them, bitten away as you drag his hands closer to your body, foreheads bumping together and sunglasses nearly slipping from his nose. He giggles into your mouth, whispering how hot he finds it when you take the lead—moaning at the way your tongue presses against his, and disregarding the three sets of footsteps that enter the scene.

“Sensei!” A somewhat recognizable, albeit squeaky, voice calls out. “We’ve been waiting for you!”

“Way to ruin the surprise, Itadori!” Another, angrier, squeaky voice scolds.

“Idiot, you just said there was a surprise. And I told you both to go easy on the hellion.” The last of their group tries to deadpan, somehow sounding more ridiculous than his peers.

“Pft—F-Fushiguro!” Nobara and Yuji laugh in sync, too preoccupied with poking fun at their classmate to notice your form erasing itself from existence behind Satoru’s back as he turns around to face them.

“Yuji! Nobara! Megumiiiii!” His tone is colored with a falsetto when he addresses his favorite (target) student, prompting the duo to keep harassing him with countless pokes at his confetti-laced spikes.

Your plan to use poor Megumi’s torture as a decoy to flee the premises goes to waste as your hand is held out in the open, with Satoru showing you off to them like the big prize at the end of a wrestling match.

“Oh, future Mrs. Gojo Sensei!” Yuji is the first to acknowledge your presence; the effects of the gas are all but worn off as he timidly waves at you. “I didn’t know you were here! What brings you to school today?”

“That’s quite the title, Yuji. Told you to just—ugh!—call me by my first name.” You struggle to pull your wrist out of Satoru’s grasp. You lose. “Also, no need to keep playing charades. He knows.”

“You told him? Then what was all of this for?” Nobara comes forth, a pink balloon dramatically deflating in her hands.

“Actually, I figured it out myself! Aren’t you proud to have such a smart teach—”

“No!” Two out of three shout in unison. You almost do so yourself.

After their back and forth escalates into a full-blown debate on who’s more intelligent, Satoru or Megumi’s shikigami (the results to be announced on a future episode of Are You Smarter than a Toad?) and happy birthdays are wished, Yuji asks the one question you feared answering the most.

“Sensei? Miss Y/N? What were you doing out there in the cold?”

Their own curiosity beats Megumi and Nobara to the classroom as they stall their entrance, with Satoru being the first to hit the buzzer.

“You see, Yuji, when a man and a woman love each other very much, they—ahahouch! Love really does hurt! It hurts so badly!” He yelps as you stomp on his foot hard enough to cripple an average man.

“Don’t you dare use me as a test subject for the talk, Satoru!”

“What talk, darlin’?” He smiles coyly, not losing the chance to brag. “Oh, you mean the talk about how you fell victim to my charms and couldn’t wait till we were alone to kiss me? Guess I still got it, despite the extra candle on the cake.”

“Aww!”

“Eww!”

“Gross!”

The reactions vary.

“You’ll get another candle lit up in your memory if you keep spewing shit like this!” Your attempt to step on his shoe is countered by his technique.

“Hey, no cursing in front of my precious students!” Satoru chides. “We’re supposed to set an example for them, not taint their innocent souls!”

“Satoru!” With a tremendous roar, the door flies open, startling the three students to jump behind their teacher and you to follow suit.

Principle Yaga stands by the frame, his authoritative tone coursing through your body as it recalls every punishment he ever subjected you to. The soreness in your calves from running laps around school for being late. The dryness in your eyes after surviving one of his excruciating educational VHS tape sessions for being “cheeky” and the ache in your fingers from scrubbing the gym floors squeaky clean—courtesy of being caught sneaking back into the dorm with tousled hair in the dead of night.

You almost feel sorry for Satoru acting as the wavebreaker for the incoming tsunami, but then you remember how the majority of your crimes were incidentally committed in his name and wish him good luck. He deserves whatever earful he gets, possibly something along the lines of “Sixteen minutes late? Are you trying to break a world record?”

“You think Gojo Sensei will die?” Yuji whispers. “He’s at that age when a lot of celebrities die, right?”

“He’d better not! I didn’t bring any funeral wear with me.” Nobara answers back.

“Can’t you read the room?” Megumi rasps. “Plus, that’s the 27 Club you’re talking about. Gojo Sensei has outlived that.”

“Didn’t take you for a clubgoer, Fushiguro.” The two of them snicker, prompting Megumi to sigh as he again points out their idiocy.

“Principal Yaga!” Satoru bravely puts himself forward, your line of defense falling apart like a house of cards you’re made to support on your own. “Are you here to wish me a happy birthday? How thoughtful! Guess it’s true what they say: People mellow down with age.”

“Sixteen minutes late—”

The man’s mouth twitches furiously as an invisible countdown starts in all your heads, none of you expecting the situation to simmer down before it boils over.

“But I’ll let it slide this once. Happy birthday, Satoru. I’ve stopped hoping that the years bring you wisdom and fix your bad habits. It’s pointless; every year you turn more impudent than the year before,”—is that supposed to be a birthday wish or you getting kicks from throwing shade at me?—“but I wish they bring you happiness. I made this with you in mind. Hope it’s to your liking.”

You watch as Principal Yaga reveals a felt doll from behind his back, handing it to a repulsed Satoru, who makes no effort to conceal his personal feelings, let alone express gratitude.

“Huh? What’s that supposed to be?” He asks, shaking the doll so quickly you only catch a glimpse of its fluffy white tail and stitched black sunglasses—a cat?

“It’s you.” Its maker replies, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “And he has a name. Satoru, say hello to Catoru.”

Four of you share a look among yourselves, too stunned to say a thing until Satoru and his doll counterpart face you, the latter being held up by the scruff of his neck. Just like an actual cat.

“Do I look like this?” Satoru asks, and you all go quiet, with three hands simultaneously nudging you to represent them. Traitors!

“I mean, there are times when you do act like a cat—kinda?” Your voice is pinched up, hands moving frantically to dispute your words as your boyfriend’s face turns sourer than umeboshi. “But you look ten times—no, a hundred times more handsome! I promise! If anything, you resemble a—uh, Turkish Angora? Those are super beautiful!”

“You’d better get along.” Yaga warns. “I designed Catoru with a sweet tooth like you.”

“I don’t want a little mochi thief in my house!”

Yaga marches back into class without waiting to hear Satoru’s concerns about the impending depletion of his secret mochi stash. The kids tail after him, leaving you to comfort Satoru with a gentle pat on his back. “Let’s go inside, mm?”

The atmosphere inside the classroom is significantly more promising than what Yuji showed you on FaceTime this morning. All desks are pulled to the side in a rough T formation, with the spread of food you spent two nights making carefully put in order, from platters full of golden-crusted corn dogs and crispy chicken fingers to dainty cupcakes decorated with Konpeito candy and colorful mochi of every filling you could think of. Inumaki serves bar, and you’re pleased to see people returning for seconds, with Yuji waving his hands while praising your popping candy cake poppers to his taciturn upperclassman.

Balloons hang near the ceiling—a flag garland dangling from one end of the blackboard to the other. A gigantic birthday message spans across the surface, with smaller wishes sprinkled in abundance, some consisting of mere congratulations and others expressed with heartfelt emotion. You can easily guess who wrote what based on handwriting alone; Megumi’s by far the tidiest.

You knew leaving the decorations to Nobara was a smart choice. She knows it too. She doesn’t waste the chance to boast to Maki about it, the older girl twirling a bouquet made of lollipops between her fingers while gazing at the drifting clouds outside the window.

Satoru was right. This is good. You have every reason to be proud, too.

In the far back of the room, the adults have struck up a conversation with Panda, who snaps a picture of your entrance. The two party poopers—Ijichi and Nanami—look up from their quiet exchange.

“Satoru! You came!” Principal Yaga’s pride and joy steps forward with open arms, a party hat pulled taut between his round ears. “Congratulations on your birthday,” says Panda, planting two identical party hats on your heads. “Let me take a picture of the two of you. Couldn’t get an angle from back there.”

Your shoulders get squeezed as Satoru smooshes your faces together, the pointy tip of his hat nearly taking your eye out when he tries to steal a kiss from your cheek. You squint—and snap!

“Hey, can you take another? I think I wasn’t looking straight.”

“No do-overs!” Satoru interferes before Panda can even open his mouth. “Don’t worry! Getting a bad picture of you is impossible when you look perfect at any given time. Right, Panda?”

His former student glances down at the camera, letting out the exact same sound your computer makes when a Windows program crashes, and then rushing to mask it with a hearty chortle.

“Of course, Satoru! You got very lucky; Y/N is as beautiful as she is kind-hearted.” He shows you a grin that’s mostly teeth. “You know, she worked really hard for this party. We barely did anything ourselves.”

Not true; you all did your part…

Your eye is endangered once more, with his lips finding their target this time around. “That’s my vanilla caramel drizzle cupcake muffin baumkuchen pie to ya!”

That’s half your macchiato and half your bakery order, you argue silently.

“Shame Yuta couldn’t make it.” Panda continues. “Heard he’s down with a cold, though he did send you his gift via Maki.” A fuzzy thumb points at the closet-turned-gift-depository, where various bags and packages are stacked into a pyramid. “Anyway. I’ll let the two of you mingle. Come over if ya want more pictures of you taken. Got lots of props too.”

Your eyes follow as he returns to his post, spotting Shoko experimenting with a pair of groucho glasses. Nanami shakes his head disapprovingly, leaning back into his chair while Ijichi’s stutter is visible from where you and Satoru stand.

You glance up at him, a default smile plastered on his lips. Unreadable to others, but painfully obvious to you. The face he’s searching for is not among those present.

“Everyone seems to be having fun.” Satoru points out.

“Y-yeah.” You croak.

“Can’t believe you got everything down. Class looks like it did back then. Even the wobbly pom-pom on the party hats.” He squeezes the one on your head. “That caught me off guard.”

“Well, it would’ve been a greater surprise if you didn’t eavesdrop on my private phone calls.”

“That ain’t on me, sweets.” He whisks your hand into his and drags you onward. “Not my fault I was born with heightened senses. Better get used to it; our kids will probably take after me in that aspect.”

You shrug his comment off, watching as Satoru stows the cat away in the closet and dramatically dusts his hands off. “Another great addition to the world’s creepiest collection.” He grumbles.

“But Catoru is the cutest so far!” You object.

He is about to answer when a sound akin to that of someone choking has you both turning toward the makeshift buffet where Ijichi is downing water straight from the jug, his sunken cheeks a scarlet shade of red.

“Shit! He must’ve discovered the jalapeno poppers.” You bite your lips into a straight line, feeling somewhat responsible.

“Nice job!”

“It wasn’t my intention!”

Your plea of innocence doesn’t resonate with Satoru, who gives you a thumbs up before forming a cone around his mouth and shouting at Ijichi—chuckling at the hurried way the man searches for an escape between chairs and people.

“Ijichi! Oi, Ijichi! I-ji-chi! Over here! Come wish me a happy birthday!” He waves his arms around like Tom Hanks in Cast Away, declaring—unlike Tom Hanks—that he’s coming to him instead.

“Don’t go around terrorizing people, ‘Toru.” Your voice has him stopping his march to peck your lips.

“Promise I’ll be a good boy. You’re free to punish me if I’m not.” He smirks, finger-gunning you all the while stepping backwards in slow motion.

“You never are!”

“Hmm, that’s only because I’m the best. And you’d better prepare a handsome reward for when we get home, ‘cause the best always wins.” A flirtatious wink makes you question how many people listened in on your exchange, praying that the answer is none.

You take advantage of Satoru’s absence to pay a visit to your old friends, mentally counting the days since the last time you all gathered up. It’s been way too long—the beer you’d promised to catch up over turned into a distant fantasy.

“Gonna get yourself nauseous if you keep staring at that whirlpool, Shoko Senpai.” You plop down on the closest vacant chair, the bored brunette humming without lifting her eyes from the lemonade swirling inside her cup.

“If you gaze long into the abyss, the abyss will also gaze into you.” She states, managing to sound both mesmerized and disinterested at the same time.

“And? Seen anything yet?” You lean closer.

She retires with a sigh, dark circles looming below her hazelnut eyes. “Nothing yet.”

“How about now?”

Pulling your trump card—aka one of those miniature vodka bottles you specifically brought with her in mind—from your pocket, you pour a generous amount into her drink, reminiscing about the time she accidentally spiked Satoru’s soda and had him swimming on the floor.

It takes one sip for Shoko to liven up, a sudden jolt of energy coursing through her veins as she reaches out for the bottle.

“You’re a lifesaver, you know that?”

You chuckle. “Big praise coming from someone who actually saves lives.”

“Big words coming from people who openly drink in front of underage students.” The man to your left observes, absentmindedly picking at the tentacles of the octopus sausage on his plate.

“Kento! You made it!” You tip from one side of your chair to the other, arms dangling empty as he dodges your hug. “Having fun?”

“Please stop acting like him. I know the years in his company have caused your twisted personalities to merge, but the world is already wretched enough with one Gojo Satoru around.” He munches on the “good part” of the dissected octopus, discarding the tentacles inside a carefully folded napkin.

“But to answer your question, whether I’d rather spend my Friday afternoon explaining to everyone I know that the man in the picture dancing inappropriately with half-naked models in Ibiza isn’t me but a look-alike or sitting here, chaperoning a bunch of kids and making sure no one kills themselves, then yes. It’s not as horrible as I expected. And you’re as good of a cook as I remembered.” He wipes his mouth. “But I’m still clocking out at 7 sharp.”

“Come on! I did what I had to do to get you here!” You giggle, experiencing a little of the same rush Satoru feels when he’s poking fun at Ijichi. Oh no. “I am glad you’re enjoying the food, at least!”

A sound viler than any curse’s wail pierces through your ears as a TV cart is dragged into the room. You recognize it as Yaga’s old torture device—those five-hour black and white tapes gleaming menacingly on the lower shelves, with an unknown machine piled atop the cassette player. You aren’t sure what its purpose is until Yuji connects a microphone to it.

“Everyone—ah, ah, ah! Can you hear me?” The boy dabs a palm against the microphone, sounding loud and clear across the room. “Fushiguro, can you hear me? Fushiguro—ah, ah, ah!” The last of his ah’s interrupted by Megumi’s calling him out in front of their live audience.

“Everyone, thank you for coming to Gojo Sensei’s birthday party! I’m Itadori Yuji, and I’m happy to have co-hosted this event with Miss Y/N.”

A couple of heads turn in your direction, Satoru’s among them. It’s easy to make out his silhouette when he dwarfs everyone around him—Principle Yaga on his side and an antsy Ijichi lurking behind them.

“I enrolled in this school a little over a semester ago by accident.” Yuji continues undeterred. “Back then, I didn’t know any more about curses than the next person. Not that I do now.” He scratches through his hair. “Honestly, it was a lot to stomach, especially the part where I get to share my body with another. I was told I’d be better off dead, and I did die once. I was supposed to be dead, but then Gojo sensei gave me a choice, and I’m here because of that choice. More than a helping hand, he’s been a guiding light to me, and on behalf of all of us, thank you, and Happy Birthday!”He bows. “I hope you have a good one!”

Yuji holds out the microphone for Satoru, the two of them sharing a high five with an affectionate pat seeing the boy off.

“Thank you, Yuji, for this wonderful speech!” Satoru grins, evidently moved by his student’s words. “Everyoooooooooooone! Give it up for the man of the hour, the one and only, the most incredibly handsome and magnificently strong sorcerer known as Gooooooooooojo Saaaaatoruuuu!” His body twists in a pirouette, peace signs and heart signs flying everywhere as he lands with a finger pointing at where the imaginary camera would be.

Unsurprisingly, no one is impressed. Cricket sounds almost audible.

“Wow, okay. Tough crowd, I guess.” His lips comically jerk to one side of his face, his tone turning nasal before switching back. “I won’t bore you with individual thanks and other useless formality crap.”

He smirks at the way your mouth rounds a silent gasp. Nanami notices too, posing a question you shrug off.

“To cut it short: first-years! You’ve all proved yourselves as worthy sorcerers and worthier humans. As a reward, I’m proud to announce your reward in the form of a—c’mon guys, drum your desks a little!—luxurious, one of a kind, ten outta ten, uniquely planned field trip by moi!”

“Is it Paris? Are you taking us to Paris?” Nobara dreams out loud.

“Sensei! How about Universal Studio? I saw them post their newest churrito flavor on their webpage.”

“Can I sit this one out?” A gloomy murmur begs.

“Great thinking, Yuji! Unfortunately, Nobara, we won’t be going overseas this time, but, Megumi, you’ll definitely want to reconsider once you hear our destination, which iiiiiis—excitement is free, everyone!—Parque Espana!” Satoru claps for his suggestion.

Three dejected faces say pass in unison, with only Megumi daring to complain about Satoru taking him and Tsumiki to the theme park every second Sunday when the two were younger. You remember that. Some times you’d tag along, and you’d all grab ice cream while staring at that humongous roller coaster the kids were too short to ride.

Undefeated, Satoru directs his attention to the second-year students, the three of them loitering by the chip bowl. His tone turning grave, “Second years, I’m honestly very disappointed in all of you. In our two years of knowing each other, you never thought to throw your favorite teacher a party for his birthday. You’re lucky I don’t have the authority to drop you a grade, but still. You fail!”

“Fish Flakes!” Inumaki expresses his supposed disagreement.

“Huh? You never even told us when your birthday was because you didn’t want us knowing your real age, you blindfolded idiot!”

“Maki, not now!” Panda anxiously gets in her way. “Cool it!”

“You should have figured it out yourselves.” Satoru toots. “Moving forward! I’d like to give my special thanks to the moon of my life, my sun, and my stars.”—you knew watching Game of Thrones with him was a very bad idea—“Y/N! Come here, sweetie. Don’t be shy; everyone knows how much we love each other.

It almost feels like you have the limelight shining on you, with every person eagerly awaiting your response. You gulp hard, whispering so that only Nanami can hear. “You were right. Please save me.”

“What is it, Buttercup? You already have my heart, but if there’s anything you’d like for me to do, then now is the moment to say it.” Satoru smiles sweetly, his voice dripping with honey.

“Actually, there is. Can you put me down?” You kick your legs around while he hoists you up in bridal style, your unjust abduction having occurred in the blink of an eye.

“Anything and everything for you!” He kisses the top of your head, holding you close to him even after letting your feet touch the ground. “Alright, that’d be all! I hope everyone gets to have the time of their lives. Now, let’s get this party started!” He throws the microphone up in the air.

Nothing happens.

“I said, let’s get this party star—whatever.” Satoru gives up half-way through raising his arm again. “Yuji, play something fun!”

“On it!” Yuji salutes him, and the two of you walk away from the blackboard.

A faint sigh echoes behind you, its relief cut short as Satoru grabs the microphone once more. “Ah, right. Ijichi, I’ll see you in my office on Monday. I’d wear a headband if I were you.”

“I’ve c-committed a mortal sin, G-Gojo!” Ijichi struggles to say, uncertain of the crime he’s being accused of, yet hopeful for Satoru’s forgiveness.

“You are such a menace!” You throw a playful punch to his chest once he sits you on his lap, away from the eyes of people gathering around the karaoke machine, and close to Nanami, who departs with a disgusted scoff.

“You love me for it.” Satoru’s lips press softly against yours, incapable of hiding his smile when you pull his face in for another kiss, the tight squish of his arms making sure you’re going nowhere.

“I do.” You affirm, rubbing your nose on his. “I love you.”

“How much?” His eyes crinkle fondly.

“Hmm, like, a lot?” You giggle, your fingers absently brushing through the trimmed hair on the back of his skull. “Enough to spend half a lifetime by your side and still find you the most incredible person in all of creation.”

“Wanna spend the other half too?” His breath on your cheek colors your skin red, your eyes momentarily lost between shades of blue.

“Come back with a ring, Shit-toru.”

“That’s not the way you talk to your future husband!”

“He’s here? With us? Right now?” You gasp, frantically looking around, until Satoru forces you to face him with a thumb on your chin, his other hand squeezing an innocent touch around your thigh.

“Satoru!”

“Scared your future husband will see us?” He throws his head back, laughing at your panicked state. “Don’t worry. I’ll fight him for you. And win. After all, I am the strongest.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, he did it! He said the line with only—”you glance at your phone—“six hours left before the day ends, what an amazing record!”

A shrill screech fired from the other side of the room interrupts your banter, the microphone turning into a lethal weapon in Panda’s massive palms. The students appear to have divided themselves into couples, fighting over who gets to go first until Inumaki takes the initiative with a rap song—or, more accurately, sings over a rap song, as the only words in his roster revolve around onigiri ingredients that are mentioned nowhere in the lyrics.

“Stop hogging the mic!” Maki attempts to steal it, backing away as the boy teases to unzip his collar. She knows better than to push her limits while unarmed.

Panda still gets in the middle. For precaution, you assume.

“Reminds you of something?” Satoru comments on your riveted attention. “They’re just like us. How we once were. Young and full of dreams.”

“Nah. You were always a horny bastard.” You slap the inappropriately placed hand away before you get up and sit where Nanami was previously stationed. Poking your tongue at his devastated expression.

Conversation between the two of you is kept to a minimum after a different tune begins blasting from the speakers—Yuji and Megumi take over the stage with Takada-Chan’s most recent success, one of them performing the vocals to perfection while the other merely mumbles yeah’s whenever the song calls for it. Next are Nobara and Maki, the two girls belting out to an anthem of empowerment that has the boys in the room gulping uncomfortably among themselves.

The mood shifts completely when Yaga pours his soul into an 80’s power ballad, his raspy voice transforming into the smoothest velvet, complemented by Panda’s harmonies. Even Satoru praises his old teacher, cheering him on from the bleachers with a makeshift napkin-banner.

You don’t realize your boyfriend’s gone until you see him with the microphone in hand, bending the cable as he makes quick gestures for the floor to empty, performing what is possibly the cheesiest, most romantic love song ever written, and ushering you to join him once he drops to his knees—quite literally at your feet.

You ruffle his hair and shove his goofy expression away. No matter how charming his singing voice may be, he’ll never get you to sing in public. Similar to how he’ll never catch you admitting how loudly your heart beats in your chest, despite the fact that it’s written all over your face.

God, you hate this man. So much that part of you wishes you’d spent his birthday like you did every other year—tangled in his sheets and kissing till you cannot breathe.

As soon as the karaoke session ends, Megumi and Yuji exit the room to bring in the cake, with Satoru jumping them for a thorough inspection. The dessert is inspired by one of his favorite confections. Handmade mochi bites are spread evenly between three layers of fluffy strawberry cake, the entire enterprise covered in fine red bean paste and topped with vanilla buttercream, strawberry cutouts, and, of course, more mochi in a light pink shade to recreate the world’s largest daifuku.

You lost count of how many failed attempts it took to create your own recipe from scratch, but the look on Satoru’s face is better than any payment you could possibly ask. He struggles to find a word that describes his feelings—phenomenal being the one he ends up using. Definitely better than chocolate cake. Perhaps even on par with the legendary Laputa.

Everyone gathers anew for the birthday boy to blow out his candles, awkwardness sweeping through the crowd as, one by one, you come to the conclusion that there is no available lighter.

you search through your pockets for a lighter, finding none. Shoko’s unhealthy (and supposedly cut) habit comes in clutch, with the brunette handing Yuji the keys to her office. The boy sprints outside at full speed, idle chatter put on pause as the TV starts playing on its own, the song selection window traded for a relic of the past.

“Is this even working?” A young Shoko taps the camera, tilting her body at a curious angle. Short skirt rolling up.

“Probably not. That shit’s ancient, but feel free to test it! Maybe try showing it something funnier, like your pant—”

Horny bastard. Right on the money.

“Cut it off, Satoru.” A voice makes both you and present-day Satoru shudder, its owner taking the camera from their friend’s hand to shoot footage around the gym. “Yaga Sensei told us to use this to document the Goodwill Event, not film amateur gravure.” The frame shakes once more. “Looks good to me.”

“Pft, what’s the point?” Satoru flicks a pebble at the camera. “So he can make a quick buck out of me destroying those brats? The outcome’s already decided. Now turn this thing off. I wanna lay under the sun without some junk in my face.”

The camera zooms in on him splaying his limbs on the grass, possibly near the track field, based on the slight hint of red inside the green.

“The only junk in your face is your face itself.” Shoko deadpans, making him chase after her while Suguru continues filming them until they turn into a pair of flickering dots.

“These two.”

The world is turned upside down as a close-up of his bang takes over the screen. Realizing that himself, he pulls the camera further away, cat-like irises shining like pure amber under the sunny sky. You’ve missed their warmth.

“Preparation for the Kyoto Sister-School Goodwill Event, Day 1.” He declares, and the screen goes black in an instant, white noise reigning over the space.

Your hand seeks Satoru’s on its own, the faint sound of his name dangling from your parted lips, both your breaths catching in your throats. He’s left gawking at the screen, reciprocating your touch with shaky fingers that try to anchor him to you. It’s safe to say this was not part of your plan.

“Weird. Thought it’d be one of those old workout tapes.” Nobara reveals herself as the culprit behind the incident, ejecting the tape back into its box and later standing with her hands pinned to her waist. “Gojo Sensei, I recognize you and Ieri, but who was that third person in the video? Bangs Guy.”

Out of everyone in the room, she’s the only one to have absolutely no information on Suguru. Aside from the adults, the second-years were all present during last year’s attack, and Megumi knows whatever has slipped from Satoru during his stay at the Gojo clan’s compound.

Nobody rushes to respond; all of you tuned in on Satoru even though only Shoko, Yaga, and you are directly gazing at him, his face contorted with a pained grimace he tries hard to disguise.

“Geto Suguru was—”

“My best friend.” Satoru grins at Principal Yaga’s attempt to help him, grasping your hand more confidently as he confronts the girl. “Geto Suguru is my best friend.”

“Huh. Guess there’s hope for everyone.” No one’s left with any courage to laugh at Nobara’s poor attempt at a joke. “Where is he now—”

“Senseiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!” A voice gains volume as the door bursts open, Yuji pouring into the classroom with the lighter held over his head like it’s the Olympic flame. “I g-got th-the—” He tries to breathe, ending up only saying, “Fire. Wish. What. Miss?”

“Yuji!” Satoru makes you follow him to the door. “You’re right on time! And no, you didn’t miss anything. Just stories of the past.”

“Stories?” Yuji wipes the sweat off his forehead. Still very much exasperated. “But I…like stories.”

“I know you do.” Satoru’s eyes settle on yours, the clamor in his eyes hushing for the first time in years. “But birthday wishes are meant for a future that’s yet to be written.”

“Thank you!”

Appreciation falls from your lips as a long-drawn yawn, every second you spend huddled under the kotatsu’s warmth begging to lull you to sleep. Today was a long day. So long, it feels as if it spanned an entire lifetime.

Satoru plops down beside you, the neckline of his sweatshirt diving low over his collarbones as he chugs his share of hot cocoa. Yours remains untouched while you switch between the same two movie options, incapable of picking one over the other.

“What do you have for me?” He asks, running his fingers over the ceramic rim. A melodic string instrument-like sound is induced.

“Okay so. Got the cult classic Sixteen Candles, which we’ve probably watched more times than Molly Ringwald had to practice her lines for the role, and I also have La Boum, in case you’re feeling more adventurous, and I don’t know. Frenchy, maybe.”

“Hmm, I mean. When you phrase it like that…”He acts as if he’s seriously contemplating his choice, only to snatch the remote from your hand and choose La Boum. He smiles slyly, curling near your chest. “It’s what you obviously wanted to watch. And I always choose, so.”

“Forfeiting your birthday boy rights?” You hum, tenderly combing through his freshly washed white strands. He smells just like his cake, you think. “Be careful. There are still nine minutes left before your birthday’s over, and you’re robbed of your rights for an entire year. Think you can make it?”

“Will you be with me during those horrid days?” His voice turns muffled.

“Always. Now, before the movie starts and you ruin the fun with your excessive blabbing, how about you reach under the kotatsu for your gift?” You suggest, chuckling as his head lifts up, cerulean eyes shining with unfeigned surprise.

“Angel! You shouldn’t have!” Satoru beams whole as he drags the heavy box out, shaking it in an attempt to feel out its contents.

“You know that doesn’t work with me. C’mon. I’ll pause for you.”

He wastes no time to untie the light silver bow that ties the box together, taking, however, his sweet time to review each and every object placed within. Carefully, he lays everything out on the table, small gasps evading him at a constant and maturing into a full-on shriek as he spots that one rare Digimon trading card you bust your gut trying to purchase via private online auctions.

“I—um. I know it doesn’t sound too good ‘cause I’m your girlfriend and I’m supposed to know everything about you and what you want, but I really had no idea what to get for your birthday. So I decided to get you a bit of everything from your favorite things. You can blame me for weaponizing nostalgia later.”

You clear your throat with a quick sip of cocoa. Licking your lips, “Anyway. It’s really no biggie as you can see. I just bought off some trading cards, ported a few of your old favorite games to a current generation console—yes, Street Fighter included—and made you this silly beaded charm with our initials for your phone, since they are back in fashion.

“I know it’s not much, and you could buy those things at any given time, but—time is something you cannot buy, right? Your childhood, your youth. The so-called best years of your life. I wanted you to have that back, even if just for a day.”

It’s been minutes, and Satoru remains quizzically silent, to the point where the array of kisses aimed at your neck comes as a true ambush. You’re knocked to the floor, giggling and flailing while he shows you his affection in every way possible, kissing you, praising you, hugging you—loving you.

“H-Happy Birthday, Toru.” You repel his face enough to say. “Y-you know, a thank you would be nice to hear!”

“As if you don’t know what I’m about to say.” Satoru grins, holding your palms to his mouth. Kissing them one by one, repeatedly, and slowly. Multiple times each. “You are my childhood. And my youth. And the best years of my life—they are all you. Everything we’ve been through, and everything we’ll live together.”

“How’s that for a thank you?” He chuckles, quickly breaking the tension with a final kiss on your nose. Perhaps the only part of you that’s not tinged red. “That being said…”

“You want to go for a quickie?” You sniffle against your will.

“See? You do know everything about me.” He reaches for the deck of cards with the swirly brown backside. “It’s time to duel!”

A/N: sorry for hastily written ending. had no time, oopsie!

[kvetchlandia]

Henry Miller and Anaïs Nin, Paris Uncredited and Undated Photograph

August 14, 1932

Anais:

Don’t expect me to be sane anymore. Don’t let’s be sensible. It was a marriage at Louveciennes—you can’t dispute it. I came away with pieces of you sticking to me; I am walking about, swimming, in an ocean of blood, your Andalusian blood, distilled and poisonous. Everything I do and say and think relates back to the marriage...

Here I am back and still smouldering with passion, like wine smoking. Not a passion any longer for flesh, but a complete hunger for you, a devouring hunger. I read the paper about suicides and murders and I understand it all thoroughly. I feel murderous, suicidal. I feel somehow that it is a disgrace to do nothing, to just bide one’s time, to take it philosophically, to be sensible. Where has gone the time when men fought, killed, died for a glove, a glance, etc? (A victrola is playing that terrible aria from Madama Butterfly—"Some day he’ll come!“)

I still hear you singing in the kitchen—a sort of inharmonic, monotonous Cuban wail. I know you’re happy in the kitchen and the meal you’re cooking is the best meal we ever ate together. I know you would scald yourself and not complain. I feel the greatest peace and joy sitting in the dining room listening to you rustling about, your dress like the goddess Indra studded with a thousand eyes.

Anais, I only thought I loved you before; it was nothing like this certainty that’s in me now. Was all this so wonderful only because it was brief and stolen? Were we acting for each other, to each other? Was I less I, or more I, and you less or more you? Is it madness to believe that this could go on? When and where would the drab moments begin? I study you so much to discover the possible flaws, the weak points, the danger zones. I don’t find them—not any. That means I am in love, blind, blind. To be blind forever! (Now they’re singing "Heaven and Ocean” from La Gioconda.)

I picture you playing the records over and over—Hugo’s records. “Parlez moi d amour.” The double life, double taste, double joy and misery. How you must be furrowed and ploughed by it. I know all that, but I can’t do anything to prevent it. I wish indeed it were me who had to endure it. I know now your eyes are wide open. Certain things you will never believe anymore, certain gestures you will never repeat, certain sorrows, misgivings, you will never again experience. A kind of white criminal fervor in your tenderness and cruelty. Neither remorse nor vengeance, neither sorrow nor guilt. A living it out, with nothing to save you from the abysm but a high hope, a faith, a joy that you tasted, that you can repeat when you will.

All morning I was at my notes, ferreting through my life records, wondering where to begin, how to make a start, seeing not just another book before me but a life of books. But I don’t begin. The walls are completely bare—I had taken everything down before going to meet you. It is as though I had made ready to leave for good. The spots on the walls stand out—where our heads rested. While it thunders and lightnings I lie on the bed and go through wild dreams. We’re in Seville and then in Fez and then in Capri and then in Havana. We’re journeying constantly, but there is always a machine and books, and your body is always close to me and the look in your eyes never changes. People are saying we will be miserable, we will regret, but we are happy, we are laughing always, we are singing. We are talking Spanish and French and Arabic and Turkish. We are admitted everywhere and they strew our path with flowers.

I say this is a wild dream—but it is this dream I want to realize. Life and literature combined, love the dynamo, you with your chameleon’s soul giving me a thousand loves, being anchored always in no matter what storm, home wherever we are. In the mornings, continuing where we left off. Resurrection after resurrection. You asserting yourself, getting the rich varied life you desire; and the more you assert yourself the more you want me, need me. Your voice getting hoarser, deeper, your eyes blacker, your blood thicker, your body fuller. A voluptuous servility and tyrannical necessity. More cruel now than before—consciously, wilfully cruel. The insatiable delight of experience.

HVM

--

Everyone else seems to have the brakes on… I never feel the brakes. I overflow. And when I feel your excitement about life flaring, next to mine, then it makes me dizzy. - Anaïs Nin to Henry Miller, 1932

[pettypuppy-jonghyun]

Beach Day | Lee Felix

Summary: you and your husband!Felix (+2 kids) go out to the beach for a family adventure

Warnings: none

Notes: I'm obsessed with beach Felix

"Did you put sunblock on her already?" You questioned your husband, glancing at your daughter who was running towards the waves, her floaties making it difficult to move her arms as she did so.

Felix confirms he had already prepped her for the harsh sun rays that seemed to be already wearing you out. "Nothing can stop her now that she's already here," he laughs.

You turn to watch him situate the baby in his arms so he could also put sunscreen on him. "Did you put on sunblock?"

Felix pauses his movements, shoulders dropping. "No," he admits sheepishly.

Your hand reaches to fix the hat on your son's head so it covers his eyes more. "C'mere, I'll help you out."

Your husband sits the baby upright on the blanket before maneuvering to sit in front of you, handing you the sunscreen bottle. You start to lather on his back, making sure to get his neck underneath his hair, knowing he burns easily. You could already imagine the complaints had he forgotten to protect his own skin, prioritizing the kids.

The wind was slightly kissing your skin that morning, the sun out and shining brightly. The ocean's scent filled your senses and you took a deep breath to take it all in. You sat snugly underneath an umbrella, a picnic basket full of snacks and drinks on your left, your son and some toys on your right side. When Felix left your side, he was immediately down by the water with your daughter, helping her attempt to build a muddy castle.

You smiled softly, wanting to keep this moment in your mind forever. It was a wonderful day out for a last minute family adventure; one Felix had spontaneously sprung upon you when you woke that morning. The laughter in the distance, the comfort sound of the waves crashing, all being taken into your mind for a memory to look back at. Still, you attempted to relish in the current feeling, leaning over to grab your son from the blanket.

After changing him into a comfortable swim outfit, you started to head down to the water with your husband and daughter. They were already deep into making the muddy castle, toes dug into the sand and looks of concentration on their faces. Immediately, they allowed you to join to help create a better tower.

"Here, why don't we use a mix of dry and wet sand to help it stick better?" You encouraged, grabbing an empty pail to fill with dry sand.

Your daughter happily took the offering, cupping the wet sand in her little hands, throwing the scoops into the pail. When she turned the bucket over and removed it, the castle stood strong beneath it. Her face lit up at the sight, clapping her hands together quickly before racing to get more dry sand to continue building.

Felix's attention had moved to your son. "Do you want to go for a swim, babe? I can stay here."

You squinted your eyes to look at him, the sun blocking your view. "Yeah, I could go for a swim. Do you want me to take one of the kids?"

He shook his head. "No, I got them. They want to play anyway."

Agreeing with him, you started to walk into the water, going only a little ways in to float around. You turned around to be able to see your lovely family happily work on their sand kingdom. Their sweet smiles and cheers of joy had you grinning ear to ear, the sight truly making your heart happy.

Your eyes focused on your husband, the way his blond hair stuck to the back of his neck. It wasn't yet wet, still fluffy and blowing in the wind, his hands occasionally pushing it back from his face. You watched him lightly bounce your child in his lap, moving his position occasionally as he worked on the castles too. The way his skin gleamed under the sun reminded you of the many freckles you would see later that afternoon when you returned home. Every little thing about him still gave you butterflies.

After a while of switching back and forth between the sand and the water, the kids became tired and wanted to go home. Felix helped you pack up your things, throwing the umbrella holder over his shoulder and tugging along the cooler tub. Your daughter still wanted to hold his hand, despite him obviously carrying a lot of items, and it made him smile brightly and immediately grasp her hand in his.

"Can we get ice cream daddy?" She asks suddenly, glancing up at him and fluttering her eye lashes.

You attempted to hold back your laugh, noticing how well she had Felix wrapped around her finger. "You haven't had lunch yet, sweetheart."

Your husband's eyes met yours. "It is a special day," he reminds you, almost pleading for your compromise.

Sighing, you agreed to have a frozen treat before lunch. "Daddy's paying though," you teased, quickly running forward towards the car so you couldn't be caught with Felix's distraught eyes.

[stargirl-int3rlud3]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐂𝐥𝐮𝐛.

steven conklin x fem!reader

🗯 ! swearing, flirting, mentions sex once if you squint, pretty much a cute lil fluff !

synopsis; after being forced to go to the country club by your mother you realize that maybe the country club isn't so bad and that you'll visit more often. especially if you get to see the cute boy handing out drinks. — ♡ ᵎᵎ

A bored facial expression had been plastered across your face ever since your mom instructed you to go to the country club located in Cousins. She told you to take something to one of her fellow mom friends who was currently relaxing at the country club's pool. Too busy with whatever she had invested her time to, she texted her friend saying you were going to bring said thing to her. Now here you were trudging yourself through the front doors of the country club, accidentally dragging in a few speckles of sand from the nearby beach that had collected in your flip flops.

You were at point where you just want to get this over with. Technically speaking, you weren't supposed to be here. You were supposed to be with your friends at the beach, swimming in the freezing cold ocean, getting sand stuck in places you'd surely find later. But clearly your mom had other plans for you, instead wanting you to do her chores for her. Who were you to argue though, not like it would've ended well on your part. You'd much rather be a few minutes late than not be allowed to go at all and spend your afternoon cleaning the house.

So now, you're here making your way to the country club pool. As if she has a sixth sense for you, your mom's friend, who was laying in a chair with sunglasses and a large hat on, immediately looks over to you waving you over to her with a big bright smile on her face. You awkwardly fumble over your feet and towards her.

" Oh my goodness! It's so good to see you " She announces pulling you in for a tight hug.

" Yeah, you too! " You speak with a fake smile now on your face.

Once you give her the item she so desperately needs from your mom, you assume you'd be on your merry way to the beach. How horribly wrong you are. She spent the next 20 minutes or so talking to you about anything she could think of in which you replied with short, simple answers hoping she'd get the hint that you want to leave. To your misfortune she did not. The thing or more so person to end her talkative streak with you was when she noticed her son was scurrying towards her with blood dripping out of his nose. You quietly excuse yourself, not caring too much if she had heard you or not. You pull your phone out of your pocket, noting that you were now almost half an hour late from the time you were supposed to be at the beach. As you're about to leave you decide that few more minutes so you could get a drink wouldn't kill your friends and now you're walking over to the bar. Hoping onto one of the stools set up at the bar a boy you hadn't seen here last year swoops around the corner, offering you a cute smile that subconsciously formed butterflies in your stomach.

" So what could I get for a pretty girl like you? " The boy's nervous flirty tone melts your heart ever so slightly and brings a soft red hue to your cheeks.

" Can I just get a coke, please? " You tell him in a hurried voice and as he ducks underneath the bar you lean forward as if you don't want to let him out of your sight, afraid he might leave and you won't see him again.

He pops open the can and sticks a colorful straw in with ease, a gesture that many wouldn't notice but you did as you were often just given the ice cold can, " Since you asked so nicely. "

The smirk that was now forming on his features, as you assume he finally notices the red color of your cheeks, makes your brain go feral at how a man could be so adorable yet so hot at the same time.

You stay seated at the bar for quite awhile, ignoring the buzzing of your phone in your back pocket, probably from your friends. The boy introduced himself to you as Steven and you introduced yourself. For the most part you tried to leave the boy be as you didn't want to be bothersome to his job, but he didn't make you feel that way at all. He dominated the conversation and talked to you more than you talked to him. Some would think that you clearly weren't interested in whatever Steven was talking about or asking you, but he knew better than that by your body language. He watched as you shyly sipped your coke, how you remembered everything he talked about, and how you stared at him through your eyelashes. God, he loved when you did that. It made his heart speed up and he swore their were hearts in his eyes when you would laugh and giggle at one of his jokes, no matter how corny it was. And when you had quietly and sweetly asked Steven for his number, he pointed to the napkin lying underneath your drink. Your eyes widen as you realize a set of numbers with a cute heart was written on the napkin and you had no idea how you didn't notice it before.

With a giggle you say, " Smooth. "

A few minutes to get a drink ended up turning into close to one and half to two hours. You had told your friends that you weren't going to be able to make it to the beach which in your case wasn't a lie.

Here you are now, sitting on the same stool you had been for a over an hour. You watch tentatively as Steven removes his hairnet and offers you his arm in which you gratefully wrap yours around.

" You don't have to walk me home. " You inform him as you guys exit the country club.

" And let a girl as beautiful as yourself walk home by your lonesome, I'd feel far too guilty. Plus, who wouldn't kill to spend more time with someone as lovely as you. " Steven fed you compliment after compliment and it made your increasing crush on him speed up.

You hide your smiley, blushing face into Steven's bicep which causes him to tilt his head more towards you, hoping to be able to see your face. You stare at how close he is through the corner of your eye and you wonder how people could think love and romance is dead when here you were being admired by a boy a you met a few hours ago. He looks at you as if you're a rare type of flower in a field full of common flowers when you've felt like a common flower your entire life. You felt special. He made you fell special.

And as he walks you up the steps to your house you wish your house was farther from the country club. You leave Steven's hold to unlock your front door, but you halt your movements as you hear Steven begin to walk away.

Turning around to be able to see him, you yell, " Steven! "

He spins around on his heels and when you don't say anything he jogs over to you. As much as he was hoping he'd be able to see you again, part of him knew that there were some girls who just liked to flirt and not talk to the guy again. Deep down he didn't really think you were that person, but he didn't want to assume anything too hastily, so when you called out for him it pulled at his heart strings and within seconds was right in front of you.

" Do you think-, " You cut yourself off trying to find the right words, " Would you want to hang out again, like possibly go on a date or something? "

" I would absolutely love to, pretty girl " The mix between the nickname and his whispery voice had your face turning an unnatural shade of red.

You internally gulp not knowing what to do next. Steven was a sweet boy, you hadn't been with many of those so this was partially new to you. You were used to being made out with and then the guy wanting to fuck you.

Seeing as you were clearly nervous and weren't making a move, Steven took this as his moment to shine. He grabs hold of your hands, bringing them to his lips as he flutters his eyes close and presses a sweet, sincere kiss to your knuckles. Your heart stops and you have to stop yourself from fainting right on the spot. Which leads you to unconsciously leave a kiss on his cheek.

Reghistering what you did you sqeauk out a, " See you! " before hiding yourself in the comfort of your own home.

You rush to your room throwing yourself onto your bed letting out fangirl like squeals and giggles from the mere thought of the boy who had just miraculously altered your perceptive on love.

While you kicked your feet in your room, Steven stood awestruck on your front porch lightly touch the place where your lips still lingered. He walked like that all the way home. When he walked in the door he was met by odd looks from Conrad, Jeremiah, Belly, and Laurel while Susannah had a curious smile and a spark of light in her eyes.

" Dude, who gave you the lipgloss mark on your face? " Jeremiah announced what everyone was thinking.

" What? " Confused, Steven takes a peak at himself in the nearby mirror and on the same cheek you had kissed minutes earlier was a clear lipgloss outline of your lips.

Without thinking Steven's eyes soften and a giddy smile is stamped onto his face as he carefully glosses his fingers over the mark.

" Woah...dude, you have to tell me who gave you that kiss. I need to kno who's got my best friend crushing as hard as that, maybe she has friends she can hook me up with, " Jeremiah laughed as he wraps his arm around Steven's shoulder, earning a playful glare from Steven.

Not wanting to talk about it at this very moment and just wanting to replay the moment in his room by himself where he didn't have to worry about teasing. He made his way up the stairs, pulling his phone out of his pocket only to be met with a message from you asking if he'd like to call you. As if his body knew him better than his mind, his pace quickened as he popped into his room, shutting the door and hoping to get privacy as he called you.

☆ | for my steven girlies <3!!

[ddejavvu]

hiiii for mvm can we get lifeguard reader and surfer hotch? reader is ogling him, but had to look away for a sec, and when they turned back he was suddenly gone and they get all >:( until they hear someone clear their throat and aaron is all smug. “looking for me? >:))”

today is multiverse monday, send me any au you can think of! :)

--

Being a lifeguard is not so much hard work as it is stressful. No, you're not lugging boxes around a storeroom, or hauling materials to construction sites, but every minute you sit atop the tower is one that you're worried someone will drown, and it's exhausting.

You're happy to have distractions, especially when they come in the form of soaking wet surfers. Typically, the men run into the water with their shirts back on the sand, but the one you're watching now has a rash guard on over his chest. You're not as disappointed as you thought you'd be, because the fabric slicks tight to the slight chub of his stomach, and you've discovered something new about yourself in the way your eyes are trained on the curve of his skin.

His dark hair is short and wet with ocean spray. He's steady on his board, and he's only plunged once into the waves, strong thighs keeping him stable over rolling waves. He's not the best surfer you've ever seen, but he very well might be the best looking surfer you've ever seen.

Unfortunately, your job is not to ogle people in the water. Your job is to help people, and when a small voice calls up from the bottom of your tower, you have to break your gaze away from the handsome surfer to look down.

It's a young boy, no more than 7, with an ice cream in his hands. It's from a cooler, you presume, because you know the boardwalk doesn't sell that kind of ice cream. It's your favorite; you'd know if they did.

"What's up?" You call down to the kid, who squints through the sun at you.

"Do you have scissors? I can't get this open, and my dad is in the water."

"Uh, yeah," You fumble through the first-aid kit you have, retrieving the small scissors there. You're not technically supposed to use them for ice cream packaging, but you're not cruel; the kid wants his treat.

"Hang on," You descend the ladder, scissors held carefully in your hand until your feet land in the sand.

The kid, chubby-faced and blonde, stands just below your chest, sand dusted over his rash guard and swim trunks. They're a cute pattern, and you chat with him while you slit open his ice cream.

"Do you like sharks?"

"Yeah," He nods, looking down at his shark-print swimsuit, "I think they're cool, but I hope they're not at the beach today, 'cause my dad's out there."

"Yeah, you said," You hum, glancing over the water for a split second as if you'd be able to tell which one the kid is related to, "Alright, well, enjoy your ice cream," You hand off the wooden stick to the boy, jealous that he gets to dig in while you starve on the stand, "You're lucky, y'know, those are my favorite."

"Me, too!" The boy gushes as you turn towards the ladder, ice cream already smeared down his cheek, "Thank you!"

Before you can reply you hear feet in the sand, and a deeper voice pants, "Yes, thank you."

You turn to see a hand clap itself over the boy's shoulder, and when you follow the arm it's connected to, you see the surfer you'd been admiring earlier. Your breath hitches and your mouth falls just slightly agape. It's not enough to be obvious, but if he's looking, he'll notice.

He's not looking at your mouth, though. Probably.

"Uh, this is my son," He continues, a lazy grin on his face, "Thanks for helping him."

"Oh!" You nod, setting your foot back in the sand where it had been one rung up on the ladder, "Happy to help. You're smart, bringing ice cream. They charge, like, $8 a cone on the boardwalk."

"Yeah," He laughs, still dripping from the ocean. The sound sends butterflies through your stomach, and you admire the way he tips his head back ever so slightly, "We found that out last week. Would you like one?"

"Hm?" Is your dazed reply, "A- An ice cream?"

"Yeah," He nods, "You said they're your favorite. We've got a whole box, you're welcome to take one."

"Oh, no," You shake your head, tensing slightly at the overly kind gesture, "I couldn't. Thank you, though."

"It's alright," The man puts his hands up, placating you, "Really, they're probably gonna be melted by the time we leave, anyways. Take it as a thank-you."

You want to tell him you're just doing your job, but he glances down at his son who's already halfway through his treat, "Jack, buddy, go get another one for the lifeguard?"

"Okay," He complies with a cheery grin, "Be right back!"

He races off through the sand, kicking the stuff up behind him. The man looks like he wants to scold his son, but he's running too fast to hear you anymore, and you brush it off with a shared, sheepish laugh.

"So," The man huffs, still slightly out of breath from surfing, but composed all the same, "How was I?'

"What?" Another round of confused staring, and he gives you a knowing grin that nearly knocks you down.

"I saw you watching me," He hums, and your face heats up like a stoked grill, "Was I good?"

"Oh! Uh, yes," You nod vigorously, embarrassment clogging your brain, "You're- those were really big waves, you're pretty- uh, pretty good at that."

"Thanks," He chuckles bashfully, smile only growing wider, "I don't get to surf as much as I used to. I was better back then. But it's still fun to come out here. I'm Aaron, by the way, and my son is Jack."

You nod along, introducing yourself as Jack comes barreling back through the sand. He offering you a wrapped ice cream that's, thankfully, clean.

"Thank you," You gush, taking the package gratefully from the boy, "I really appreciate it, it's hot up there and I haven't eaten since breakfast."

"Enjoy it," The man nods, ruffling Jack's hair with a wet hand that clumps the blonde strands together. He looks up at Aaron, and the man speaks to him.

"Alright, bud, I'm heading back out. Stay on our towel, and don't talk to strangers, okay?"

"Okay," Jack nods, and you pipe in.

"Except for me, if you need more help," You chime, and Aaron chuckles again, a sweet sound that makes your knees feel a little faint.

"That's true. But don't bother her for nothing, buddy." He warns Jack, already heading for where his surfboard is waiting a few feet away, "She needs to focus, she's gotta watch me surf."

At first, you think it's a tease, and you want to be just about anywhere else. But he glances back at you with a smile nothing short of kind, and you realize it's an offer, "Be my judge?"

"Okay," You brighten with a laugh, and as far as you're concerned, sitting up in the breezy tower while munching on ice cream and watching Aaron surf is a perfect ten.

[paintedkinzy-88]

(So sorry i feel like im spamkmg yoyr ask box but i just rotate this au around in my brain like microve)

So i was checking out the posts linked through your coi au master post, and this part:

Did this this cut more deep than Donnie intended? Like does Leo still think about this one line even months past? Like does he think, as hes going on his nightly falling/flying sesions how his brothers couldnt even think of leaving april behind but didn't hesitate to leave him behind

Meanwhile donnie and bros dont see it that that. They see leo as equal, even without wings, they never once thought of it as leaving him behind. Because hes their brother, theyd NEVER leave him behind.

But then that got me thinking... did they accidentally like ACTUALLY leave leo behind that first night donnie made his wings. Cause i can see donnie and the ither two being caught up in the joy of flying together for the first time, maybe going too fast for leo to keep up on the rooftops, cementing the idea in his head that his bros dont need him.

This is long winded lol i just got angst on my mind 😭

Spam me all you want!! I may not be able to promise I’ll get to every ask I ever receive, I just don’t have that time, but I CAN promise that I see, read, and overthink everything anyone sends me (ง’̀-‘́)ง So send away!!

As for your question: Absolutely, yes, that moment struck Leo down to his core — but not like. Personally. He knows Donnie didn’t mean it like that! Realistically, he understands that his brothers/sister care just as much about him as he does about them. They’d never purposefully leave him behind!! At the end of the day, he trusts that, should he ever get seriously knocked down, his family would turn right back around to help him get back up.

But he still has a MAJOR barrier that he sees between them. One that Donnie AND April are now able to literally fly over. And now that he’s outnumbered, that wall feels even higher than before. He’s not alone, not ever, but it certainly feels like it sometimes…

And all of that is exactly why he doesn’t want to say anything. He not only feels a little silly to have this impossible dream in the first place (his hoard is literally birds and butterflies and shit, that’s so weird and pathetic, isn’t it???), but he doesn’t WANT them to worry about him. He doesn’t want them to turn tail and come back just to make sure he’s keeping up with them. He can’t hold them back like that!

It’s better to pretend he’s on the same level, train himself into the ground (even literally if that’s what it takes) to prove he’s on the same level, make them focus on his stellar swimming skills that are (to them) on par to their flying, than for them to ever realize that all he’ll ever do is look up at them from below.

Also, yes, after Dee made his first fully functioning flight pack, they all went on a quick flight around the city. April was the one to suggest they move it to the ocean so Leo could at least keep up with them and cheer them on…

[e-dubbc11]

What are little Anna & Dylan doing this summer?

Happy Summer my lovely friend! ♥️

I put together some summer/beach day headcanons for the Russo family. Thank you for sending this in and I hope you like it. I appreciate you! ♥️♥️

The Perfect Summer

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Part of The Sweetest Pain Series. I’ll leave the series linked HERE

Pairing: Billy Russo x F! Reader with Anna Raven and Dylan.

As always, thank you for reading!  I appreciate it so much and comments, reblogs are welcome and encouraged. Don’t be shy to tell me your favorite part. 💕💕 💕

• Summer is a bit of a busy time for the Russo family.

• Billy takes more time off this time of year because fewer people get tattooed in the warmer months but he leaves the shop in good hands with Shortcake, Ed #1, and Ed #2.

• However, when their parents are working, Anna Raven and Dylan go to a daycare with plenty of activities like field trips, arts and crafts, playground time, and a very important time in little Dylan’s day…nap time.

• Billy’s also home for dinner earlier and more often which you and the kids love.

• If the weather permits, the family loves to eat dinner outside; you and Billy watch the kids play with each other afterwards.

• If you get done with dinner early enough, Billy gives the kids ice pops or another kind of sweet treat. You don’t want them going to bed with their stomachs full of sugar.

• The kids love the beach so on nice weekends, you and the Castle family take day trips to the beach.

• Billy and Frank help the kids build sandcastles and they also argue about who has the best one. They ask you and Maria to decide which one is better. Billy also has a hard time letting the kids help because the perfectionist in him doesn’t want it to look messy. It makes you laugh when the kids try and help and Billy cringes, silently saying to himself “that’s not where that goes.”

• Little Dylan still loves the ocean as much as he did when he was in the womb. He loves it so much that you have to keep a close eye on him as he likes to try and sneak down to the water without you.

• The Castle children love to bury their Uncle Billy in the sand and they ask the Russo children to help them which they think is really funny. They have to remind Dylan not to throw sand in Billy’s face.

• Since you and Billy are covered in tattoos and now with the addition of the kids, you go through sunscreen like crazy.

• Polka dots…Anna Raven LOVES polka dots so she had to have a bathing suit covered in them while Dylan’s bathing suit looks like the American flag, just like his father’s.

• Sometimes you have to clench your thighs together looking at Billy in his swim trunks. Between his body, the tattoos, his sunglasses, and being a good dad…it turned you on. And he would catch you peering over your sunglasses at him and shoot you a smile that made you weak in the knees and give you butterflies in your stomach.

• It’s not a secret that your husband is incredibly handsome so he never failed to garner attention everywhere you went, especially at the beach. Women in tiny bikinis having no shame would basically throw themselves at him right in front of you. They would see him playing with Little Raven or Dylan and they were drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

• Billy told Anna, “If any strange lady starts talkin’ to Daddy, I want you to point at Mommy and yell out ‘OUR MOMMY IS RIGHT OVER THERE!!’ You understand, baby girl?”

• And you would just smile and wave when it did happen because you knew your husband only had eyes for you.

• After a long day at the beach, the kids would always fall asleep in the backseat. Anna slumped slightly forward wearing her sunglasses, she always wore her sunglasses in the car because she wanted to mimic you, and Dylan was fast asleep, sucking his thumb. The late afternoon sun shines through the windows of the car, hitting the sand particles still stuck to their little feet causing the pieces of mica to glisten. You and Billy just smile at each other; it was a really nice day.

• The kids can barely keep their eyes open at the dinner table so they go to bed early, leaving you and Billy to relax with each other outside, enjoy a drink, and watch the fireflies under the stars.

• The summer evening air is thick and warm, balmy with a slight breeze as you gazed at the dark blue blanket of the night. Perfume from the summer blooms drifted past your nose as the starry veil shined brightly above you. Gently, you rest your head against Billy’s shoulder, smiling and thinking about how much fun you had with him and the kids today.

• Billy turned to face you, kissed the top of your head, and said softly, “Today was fun. I love you, sweet girl.” With your fingers laced together with his, you looked down at your tattooed hands and replied, “I love you too, handsome. Today WAS fun.” And you continued to talk and laugh with each other until you were overpowered by the urge to sleep and you could no longer keep your eyes open.

• The perfect ending to a perfect summer day.

Tag List: @wheresthesunshinesblog @idaoftheburningmind @rafaelakelley @fakehappy27 @snowkestrel @music-indie-tv @kayhi808 @munsonownsmyass @gijos @fictional-hooman @celestialend @nutmeg17 @k-marzolf @vaguekayla @rosaleenablack @danzer8705 @qu1etwolf @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @mysteriouslydeafeningwerewolf @aoi-targaryen @rachlovesactors

Others that might enjoy: @itwasthereaminuteago @fluffyprettykitty @jvanilly @ittybxttykxttytxtty @imagine-a-fictional-boyfriend @mrsbillyrusso

If you’d like to be added (or removed from) my tag list(s) for the ever so handsome Billy Russo, just let me know and thank you again for reading! 💕💕💕 If I tagged you but you didn’t want to be, just let me know and I’ll never do it again.

[yoshitsuno]

My dearest Aurélie, Today is a rather special day. Several months have gone by now that I know you. To tell the truth... the more the days go by, the more I feel my heart racing when I'm next to you. And that strange feeling in my stomach. It's as if... a dozen butterflies were stirring inside me, eager to take flight and brighten up the day with their colours. Like you when you came into my life: like a magnificent butterfly, you brightened up my days with your warm colours. And I have to admit, you're one of the most beautiful people I've ever had the pleasure of meeting. Your eyes are like a huge ocean, where I could swim in complete safety and joy. They bring back wonderful childhood memories, and every time I look into yours, I feel soothed. But I'm even more so when I imagine you in my arms... my face against your hair, the scent of which sweeps me away into a field of cosmos as far as the eye can see. I love admiring your beautiful smile and the colour of your lips reminds me of strawberries, because all I want to do is kiss you and revel in the pleasure and sweetness. Every day... every night... you are always in my thoughts. I feel so happy when I think of you and I just want to be with you again. Because you set my heart on fire... because I love you... I love you with an immense love. I love you Aurélie. Meet me by the ROR. I've got a wonderful surprise for you. I can't wait to see you again. I love you... Je t'aime de tout mon coeur... Tristan

This is it! After almost a year, Tristan has finally taken the step of confessing his feelings for Aurélie, the MC of the wonderful @morelikeravenbore ❤️❤️❤️ Happy Valentine's Day all ! ❤️