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alygator77 · 21 days ago

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ᰔᩚ motherhood and matrimony ᰔᩚ

ꨄ︎ pairing. au ceo! satoru gojo x single mom secretary fem! reader

ꨄ summary. satoru gojo, the arrogant and irresistible heir to a billion-dollar corporation and the son of your boss, the ceo... but when satoru’s father dies unexpectedly, his inheritance hinges on a stipulation: he must marry and have a child, but the child doesn't necessarily have to be his, right? together, you strike a deal: a fake marriage that promises financial stability for you and corporate control for him. as the lines between business and emotion blur, you must decide if your partnership is purely contractual or if it could evolve into something real.

ꨄ︎ warnings/tags. 18+ MDNI, nsfw, enemies to lovers, opposites attract, fake marriage, slow burn, smut, fluff, bit of angst, reader is single mom who recently broke off her engagement, satoru being a cute step dad, naoya is your crappy ex, some triggers of domestic abuse (emotional abuse from naoya but it can be a bit suggestive/interpreted as physical)

ꨄ words: 10.5k

ꨄ a/n. hello my mhm lovelies :') i've missed writing this fic dearly! please note, this is not chapter 7—however, i will be releasing ch 7 this month. this is just a fun little side chapter with some family domesticity for the autumn season. taking place sometime after reader/satoru become official. ♡

ꨄ taglist: closed (ao3)

♬ playlist

series masterlist ꨄ︎

ch 6.5 // harvesting happiness

As the crisp autumn air has arrived, it brings with it a feeling of change—and perhaps nature itself is subtly acknowledging just how much your life has shifted.

It’s baffling. Your time in the Gojo estate has been nothing short of eventful—and it feels like just yesterday you stood in front of Satoru, proposing an arrangement that was as unexpected as it was necessary. But now, with the leaves turning a fiery shade of red, orange, and gold, you realize just how quietly and quickly fall has crept in.

And with all this change, your relationship with Satoru has begun to reshape as well—a new chapter, freshly inked. No secrets, no acts—just the three of you, finding your footing in this new arrangement you’ve embarked on.

But one thing hasn’t changed—Satoru simply can’t say no to Haru.

It’s something that’s too cute for its own good—watching him wrapped around her small little finger, treating her like the princess she is. Ahh…but it’s even cuter how he tries to hide it. Satoru has a heart of gold, and though he may use his wit and charm as a mask, you’ve come to see through most of his tricks now—especially when it involves Haru.

And Haru? Well, lately she has really started to become attached to Satoru—in ways that even surprise you. Everything has been ‘toru this - ‘toru that. The trouble with it? Well... ’toru doesn’t have all the experience of handling a kid, let alone a two-year-old. But day by day, he is learning.

Fall is Haru’s favorite season, ironic given her name translates to “spring.” She adores everything about it—the cool, crisp air that calls for cuddles and cozy sweaters, the cinnamon pumpkin treats that have become a staple in the kitchen, and the magic of “spooky season,” as she calls it.

The latest item on her list? A trip to the pumpkin patch.

The idea had come up over breakfast, as you sipped your chai and watched Haru list off her autumn plans with boundless enthusiasm. The moment she had flashed those wide, hopeful eyes at you both, of course Satoru offered to take her—he stepped in immediately and you’d been surprised but delighted by the offer.

And now, you’re embarking on this journey together—off to the pumpkin patch. You head down the stairs of the Gojo’s estate with Haru’s little hand nestled in yours—chattering excitedly about all the things she wants to do and see at the pumpkin patch.

“Let’s find a big pumpkin, Mama! I wanna pet the animals!”

You smile, nodding along, but as you reach the end of the stairs, glancing into the foyer, you’re greeted by a sight entirely unexpected.

Satoru leans casually against the banister, scrolling through his phone, but he’s dressed down in a way you’ve never seen. Gone are his usual tailored suits and designer dress shoes—instead, he’s wearing an oversized hoodie, a pair of well-worn jeans, and, most surprisingly, a black beanie snug over his white hair. The only familiar accessory he wears is that pair of round, dark sunglasses resting upon the bridge of his nose.

Once you reach the bottom of the stairs, he glances up from his phone, grinning.

“Well, look at you, Mr. Gojo,” you smirk, stepping closer. “You almost look…normal.”

A low hum rumbles from his chest as he takes off his sunglasses for a moment, letting you catch sight of that familiar twinkle in his eyes.

“Almost?” he feigns offense, pushing off from the banister. “Aw man, that’s disappointing, considering that this,” he gestures at his outfit, “is premium low-profile attire.”

You snort, reaching up to playfully tug on one of the strings of his hoodie.

“I didn’t realize you had a whole ‘undercover’ look ready to go.”

“Well… yeah,” he leans forward and presses a quick peck to your lips. “Life of a celebrity, sweetheart. Last thing we need is the pumpkin paparazzi swarming us. I’d rather they didn’t ruin Haru’s big day out.”

His words make you pause, a gentle warmth filling your chest at his thoughtfulness—but before you can respond, a tiny voice chimes in.

“‘toru, you look like a spy!” Haru’s small hand grips the fabric of his jeans, her face alight with excitement as she gazes up at him.

Satoru chuckles, turning his attention fully to her. As he crouches down to meet her gaze, his own expression softens.

“A spy, huh? You’re onto something princess.” He gently ruffles her hair. “Alright… here’s the deal. You can be my sidekick, but only if you keep my secret.” He puts a finger to his lips, and whispers. “No one can know who I really am. It’ll be our secret mission.”

“Secret! I won’t tell,” she whispers with utmost seriousness, and her eyes beam with the thrill of this imaginary game he’s now given her.

“Good,” he murmurs, tapping her nose lightly, “I knew I could trust ya, kiddo,” and as he shoots her a wink, she dissolves into a fit of giggles.

You watch them from a few steps away, leaning back against the banister with your arms crossed—a soft smile tugging at your lips. There’s something endearing, almost mesmerizing, about the way Satoru allows himself to be swept up in Haru’s world, and you’re incredibly impressed at how seamlessly he’s growing into this role—this new chapter of his life, and yours. As you catch glimpses of the man he’s becoming, these small, unguarded moments bring forth a version of Satoru that feels both familiar and entirely new.

Just then, Satoru glances up and catches you watching him with that uncharacteristically soft expression. His gaze narrows playfully, and a mischievous smirk spreads across his lips as he stands.

“What, Mrs. Gojo? Enjoying the view?”

Your smile softens, and the words that leave your lips slip out before you even realize it.

“Who knew dad vibes could look this good on you?”

Ah, fuck. The second the words leave your lips; you feel a heat rushing to your cheeks—you’ve spoken without thinking, letting your admiration for him slip out in a way that feels a little too honest—more vulnerable than you intended—giving him a title—that title. You’re still getting used to this… this new, real relationship that you and Satoru share, and moments like this catch you off guard.

Satoru’s reaction is immediate; his eyes widen in surprise, and for a heartbeat, he simply blinks at you, processing what you’ve said. Flustered, you bite your lip—your gaze darting away for a moment as the heat in your face intensifies. There is no hiding the delicate pink painting your cheeks.

But then, his surprise melts into a grin—a slow, pleased smile that lights up his entire face, stretching into a smirk that’s all too self-satisfied.

“Oh?” his voice drips with amusement. “I didn’t realize you were such a fan of my ‘dad vibes.’”

Stepping forward, he tilts his head—studying you with a newfound intensity, and it becomes very clear that he’s relishing in your flustered reaction.

Ugh. You don’t know whether to be relieved or annoyed in his response. Clearing your throat, you try to salvage a bit of dignity.

“I, uh… I just mean, y��know… you’re getting the hang of this,” you mumble.

You should know better—that playful glint in Satoru’s eyes tells you he’s not letting you off the hook. His eyes beam with mischief as he leans in close, and you desperately try to advert your gaze.

“Oh, no, no, no. Don’t backtrack now,” he smirks, turning your face to meet him.

The warmth in your cheeks intensifies under his gaze, and his fingers linger, brushing tenderly against your chin. Your breath catches the moment he moves in closer—lips ghosting just over yours.

“I think I could get used to is this kind of flattery…”

You suck in a breath and playfully roll your eyes. “The last thing you need is an ego boost. Don’t get too used to it…”

“Too late,” he whispers back.

Before you can say anything else, a small, impatient voice breaks the moment.

“Mama, ‘toru! Let’s gooo! Pumpkins!” she pouts.

You both blink, snapping out of the moment as you glance down at Haru, who’s now tugging on your hands with eager impatience.

She’s not about to let her pumpkin adventure be delayed by your moment.

“Alright, alright, princess, we’re going,” Satoru chuckles, ruffling her hair playfully. “Besides, I’m not the only one going incognito today.”

Turning towards a nearby table, he reaches for a small shopping bag you hadn’t noticed before, and you raise an eyebrow in curiosity as he holds the bag out to you with a smirk. The moment the bag is settled in your hands, you immediately open it—revealing your own matching beanie, followed by a pair of sleek designer sunglasses.

“Gotta keep my partner in crime undercover too.”

“Ah, of course,” you muse, grinning at you pull your disguise out of the shopping bag. “Didn’t realize we were going full ‘spy mode’ for this outing.”

Satoru chuckles, but his eyes soften as he watches you slip the beanie over your head and position the sunglasses on the bridge of your nose with a flourish.

“How do I look?” you pose playfully.

“Like the perfect accomplice,” he declares with a grin. “No one will suspect a thing.”

Haru’s face lights up and she claps her hands in excitement.

“Mama’s a spy too!” she squeals.

The thrill in her voice pulls a laugh from both you and Satoru—she’s completely swept up in this game. Satoru mirrors after you—slipping on his own sunglasses with an exaggerated flourish as he flashes Haru a mischievous grin. He shoves his hands into his hoodie pocket and whispers conspiratorially—as though letting her in on a top-secret plan.

“That’s right, kiddo. It’s a full family mission.”

Haru’s eyes beam with childlike wonder as she nods—putting her finger to her lips again—mimicking his serious expression. Suddenly, Satoru pulls out a set of keys from his hoodie pocket and begins dangling them in front of you with a grin. The silver glints in the sunlight as he places them in your hand.

“C’mon, you’re driving today,” he says with an easy nonchalance.

It takes a moment for you to register that it’s your keys he had set in your hand, and you blink down at them for a moment while he steps towards the door. It’s been so long since you’ve driven your own car that it feels oddly unfamiliar—like a relic from another life.

“Oh, uh… yeah, sure,” you stammer, still caught off guard as you follow him out the door, with Haru skipping beside you—a cascade of excitement as she babbles about today’s adventure.

Once you step outside, your gaze lands on your car waiting in the driveway—a dark blue sedan with a soft, understated shine—a small piece of normalcy you’d left behind in the wake of Gojo's luxury. It’s nothing extravagant, but it’s always been reliable.

Driving out of the Gojo estate… in your car? It’s a strange, almost surreal concept after all the chauffeured cars and limos that have now oddly become routine. A rush of familiarity surges through you—remembering the simpler times, a glimpse of the life that once belonged solely to you.

While you’re lost down memory lane, Satoru strolls toward the passenger side. He pauses, glancing back to find you standing there—keys in hand, a touch of nostalgia softening you features. His signature smirk settles into place as he leans casually against the passenger door and muses.

“What’s the matter? Afraid you’ve forgotten how to drive? Or…” his eyes narrow with playful mischief as he raises an eyebrow, “are you too fancy to drive your own car now, Mrs. Gojo?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes before striding over to the rear passenger door, where Haru waits—her small fingers clutching the edge eagerly.

“Says the one who never drives,” you shoot back, grinning as you pull open the door. “Mr. ‘Passenger Princess.’”

Your comment earns you a dramatic huff as he places a hand over his chest—pretending to be affronted—though the grin curling upon his lip tells you he’s anything but offended.

“Excuuuse me, but this ‘passenger princess’ comes with premium commentary and a charming smile. Not everyone’s lucky enough to have this level of company in the front seat.”

Shaking your head, you roll your eyes again as you reach down to lift Haru into the car.

“Lucky me,” you mutter with a grin.

But just as you begin to settle Haru into her car seat, her demeanor shifts—before you know it, she’s twisting in your arms, pressing her hands against your shoulders, all while her little brows draw together in a determined pout.

“No, Mama!” she wriggles free—scurrying down to plant her feet on the ground. You blink the moment she crosses her arms and defiantly declares, “I want ‘toru to do it!”

The request takes you off guard, and you find yourself momentarily speechless. Uhhh… come to think of it, does Satoru even know how to strap a toddler into a car seat? You glance over at him, and he looks equally thrown off—an uncertain smile curling at the corners of his mouth.

You can practically see his internal debate unfolding—he subtly glances between you and Haru—clearly flattered but just as visibly out of his depth.

Oh, Haru. She absolutely adores him—and while Satoru isn’t exactly resisting the role she’s suddenly assigned him, you know first-hand that he’s pretty much clueless with toddler basics. Car seats and sippy cups? Yeah… not exactly his area of expertise.

With a sigh, you kneel beside Haru—a gentle smile on your lips.

“Haru, honey… Satoru doesn’t exactly—"

Satoru clears his throat.

“—uh… sure, I can do it,” he straightens, pushing himself off the side of the car with a nonchalant shrug as he gives you a small, uncertain grin. “How hard can it be?”

A giggle breaks from Haru’s lips as he swoops her up, and her little arms wrap around his neck with delight—but Satoru’s eyes narrow at the car seat like it’s some sort of complex machinery he’s about to dismantle. Oh… this is gonna be good.

He carefully lowers her into the seat, and his brows furrow with intense focus as his fingers begin to slip over the unfamiliar buckles.

“Alright… this goes here… or does it?” he mutters.

Biting back a smile, you marvel at how determined yet adorably out of his element he is—untangling the straps. But as you watch him struggle, you are suddenly struck with the realization of how different this moment feels from anything you have ever experienced in the past.

Naoya? He would never have humored Haru’s whims, let alone spent time trying to puzzle out something as simple (yet surprisingly complicated) as a car seat. No—it was easier for him to hand off the messy tasks of parenting.

But Satoru? Here he was, eyebrows knitted in stubborn determination—refusing to give up on this minor challenge, simply because Haru had asked him to. Each small stumble, each adjustment he makes, only seems to fuel his resolve to get it right.

After a few moments, a sigh of mild frustration escapes him, and he pauses, staring at the tangled straps in front of him in defeat. Finally, glancing over his shoulder, he casts you a sheepish look that’s so uncharacteristically vulnerable it melts you.

“Uhh… I’m doing this right…right?”

Oh, he’s too cute. He’s trying so hard, and something about it makes you want to lean in and kiss him, just for being so completely, irresistibly endearing.

Stepping forward, you smile softly, inspecting his work with a practiced eye.

“You’re doing great,” you assure him warmly, reaching out to gently adjust the chest clip. “But you’ll want to raise this a little higher—it should be level with her armpits, and maybe tighten it a bit more.”

His eyes focus closely on your hands as you gently guide him through the adjustments, and he nods—carefully stepping back in to finish the task with a newfound confidence.

“Okay, got it.”

Your slight encouragement seems to have spurred his fingers to move more purposefully now. Tightening the strap, he gives it a final tug to check the tension, and with a small huff of triumph, a wide grin spreads across his face as he leans back—admiring his handiwork.

“There,” he announces, sounding both relieved and just a little proud. “One secure kiddo.”

Haru beams up at him, her eyes sparkling with delight.

“Good job, ‘toru!” her voice is filled with an adorable pride, as though she’s the one teaching him.

“Anything for you, princess,” he chuckles, gently closing her door and casting her one last fond look through the window. Then, with an easy stride, he slips into the passenger seat beside you, settling in with an air of satisfaction.

“All right, you two,” you exhale, securing your seatbelt with a satisfying click. “Let’s hit the road, shall we?”

After securing his own seatbelt, Satoru’s eyes flicker to yours with playful adoration. He leans back with a contented sigh.

“Yup. And with you behind the wheel, I get the best view in the car,” winking playfully, his trademark smirk appears as he adds, “Ready when you are, Madam Chauffeur.”

ꨄ︎

The pumpkin patch sprawls before you like a painted autumn wonderland. Rows upon rows of pumpkins in every imaginable shape and size dot the field—their bright orange hues glowing under the soft, golden light of the afternoon sun. Rustic wooden signs swing gently in the breeze, directing families to activities like hay rides, corn mazes, and a “Pumpkin Painting Station.” You’re welcomed with the earthy scent of fallen leaves, mingling with the sweetness of spiced donuts and apple cider—a warm nostalgic embrace of autumn.

Nearby, children dart between the pumpkins, shrieking with laughter as they kick up leaves. Parents snap photos, their laughter joining the symphony of crunching footsteps and cheerful voices. You glance at Satoru, who’s paused just past the entrance—his gaze sweeping across the scene with a mixture of awe and slight bewilderment. There’s a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes, like he’s trying to take in every detail of this unfamiliar world.

“Well?” you ask, nudging him gently with a smile. “What do you think?”

He shrugs, flashing a lopsided grin as he meets your gaze.

“Honestly? I’m not sure what I was expecting. Maybe something a little more… contained?” his eyes flick to a group of kids who’ve just toppled over in a pile of leaves—sending a cloud of autumn colors flying around them.

“Contained?” you echo, a smirk crossing your face. “Satoru, it’s a pumpkin patch, not a black-tie event. Consider it an adventure in rural living.”

He lets out a low chuckle, and his usual confidence is softened by a rare, boyish charm.

“Mmm... well I guess I’m overdue for an adventure like this,” his gaze drifts over the rows of pumpkins—families bundled in scarves and jackets as the haze of afternoon sunlight filters through the trees. His tone dips into something warm, almost tender. “Hard to believe, but I’ve never actually been to one of these before.”

Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “Never?”

He shakes his head, looking almost sheepish.

“Nah... let’s just say pumpkin patches aren’t exactly a Gojo family tradition…” he chuckles softly, but there’s a bit of sadness coloring his voice as he scratches the back of his head. “I guess most of my autumns were spent in places a bit… less pumpkin-filled.”

His unguarded honesty tugs at something deep within you. It’s easy to forget, sometimes, just how much of a different world he comes from—how even the smallest traditions, like visiting a pumpkin patch, might’ve been out of reach for him.

Without a second thought, you reach over, sliding your hand into his, your fingers curling around his in a gentle squeeze. He looks down, surprise flashing in his eyes, before his expression softens as he meets your gaze.

“There’s a first time for everything,” you murmur softly. “And… now you’ve got Haru and me to show you how it’s done. We’re practically pumpkin patch experts.”

A soft smile breaks across his face, and for a moment, he looks like he’s letting down a guard you hadn’t even realized was there.

“I couldn’t ask for better teachers,” he squeezes your hand back.

Just then, a delighted gasp breaks the stillness as Haru tugs excitedly on Satoru’s hand—her eyes are wide and shining with wonder as she points to a patch of particularly large pumpkins.

“Look, ‘toru! Big ones!” she practically bounces with energy. “Let’s go! Pleeease?”

Satoru’s expression softens even further as he glances from you to Haru, and with a small laugh, he nods—allowing himself to be pulled forward by her tiny but insistent hand.

“Alright, alright, lead the way, pumpkin expert,” he says, casting a quick, affectionate glance back at you—and your heart swells from the way his eyes twinkle with amusement, and maybe, just a hint of gratitude.

ꨄ︎

“This one?” Satoru asks, holding up a pumpkin with a proud grin.

“No!” Haru exclaims immediately, her face scrunched up in disapproval. “Too skinny.”

Satoru raises an eyebrow, giving the pumpkin an exaggerated, doubtful look.

“Too skinny, huh?” setting it down with a sigh, he brushes off his hands—back to square one. “Alright, let’s keep looking.”

He takes a few steps, scanning the rows, and his gaze falls on another pumpkin—rounder this time, but with a bit of a tilt to one side. He bends down to pick it up, then holds it out with a contemplative look.

“Hmm… how about this one? Good color, nice and round—”

“Nope!” Haru cuts him off, shaking her head with a serious frown. “It’s bumpy.”

Satoru sighs—a huff of a chuckle. He places the pumpkin back down with mock solemnity.

“Alright, alright. No bumps, no skinniness. Got it.”

Glancing back, he casts you a quick look—an amused twinkle in his eye as he mouths, she’s tough. Stifling a laugh, you sit back on a nearby hay bale, watching their search unfold with growing amusement. Haru’s standards have always been impressively high, and Satoru, is finally getting a taste of that.

As they wander a little farther down the row, Satoru’s gaze lands on another contender—a medium-sized pumpkin with a perfectly round shape and a smooth surface. Crouching down beside it, he inspects it with all the seriousness of a seasoned pumpkin picker, then holds it out, giving Haru a hopeful look.

“This one? Look, it’s perfectly round and no bumps in sight.”

Haru narrows her eyes, stepping forward and scrutinizing the pumpkin with an intensity that belies her age. A tiny, dramatic sigh escapes her as she shakes her head in disapproval.

“No, it’s not orange enough. Has to be super orange!”

“Super orange,” he echoes with a dramatic nod. “Of course. What was I thinking?” He places it back with a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck as he searches the rows—clearly determined not to give up.

Biting back a smile, you watch him crouch beside her yet again, leaning in close to match her intense expression. Then, he picks up another pumpkin and holds it out in front of her, trying to contain his hope.

“This one?” he asks, almost pleading.

Haru barely spares a second glance.

“Nope! The stem is too small.”

With a defeated sigh, Satoru watches as she continues her search, undeterred and unbothered by his less-than-stellar picks. After a moment, he walks back over to you and plops down on the hay bale—his shoulders slumping in mock exhaustion.

“Is there such a thing as a perfect pumpkin, or am I just doomed to fail here?”

You can’t help but grin—reaching over for his hand. As your fingers intertwine with his, you rest your head gently against his shoulder.

“Oh… I think there’s one out there somewhere,” you murmur, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “Don’t give up now, Mr. Gojo. Just think of this as your first lesson in pumpkin-picking perseverance.”

A soft chuckle rumbles through his chest—low and warm.

“Perseverance, huh?” looking down at your joined hands, his thumb brushes tenderly over your fingers, before his gaze lifts to meet yours—there’s a softness in his eyes, a kind of warmth that feels as comfortable as the autumn sun. “Alright… if you believe in me, I guess I’ll keep trying. But if she shoots down one more pumpkin, I might need a pep talk.”

You laugh, giving his shoulder a playful nudge.

“I’ll be here, ready with all the encouragement you need. This is serious business, y’know.”

He rolls his eyes good-naturedly, but there’s a spark of determination there as he watches Haru continue her search with relentless focus.

“Serious business, huh?” he mutters, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Well… far be it from me to let a toddler outdo me.”

Before you can respond, a delighted gasp cuts through the air.

“Mama! ‘toru! I found it!” eyes wide and sparkling, Haru points proudly at a pumpkin nestled snugly in the dirt.

The triumph in her voice makes Satoru’s eyes light up. Standing from the hay bale, his hands nestle into the pockets of his hoodie as he strides towards Haru, with you following closely behind.

“Really now? Let’s take a look at this prize pumpkin.”

Crouching down beside it, Satoru lifts the pumpkin carefully with both hands—as though it’s the crown jewel of the pumpkin patch. His brow furrows with an exaggerated seriousness as he turns it slowly, examining every curve and contour.

“Hmm… yes, I think you’re right,” he declares, voice thoughtful. “This is one smooth, super orange, pumpkin…and just look at that stem!” he taps the pumpkin’s top lightly and flashes Haru a crooked grin. “You’ve got a great eye, kiddo. I’d say you found the best one here.”

Haru’s face lights up with pride.

“Yay!! Look, Mama look!” she beams, her smile stretching from ear to ear—glowing with joy.

Crouching down beside her, you run your hand gently over the pumpkin’s surface. “Wow, sweetie—I love it. It’s absolutely perfect.”

You catch Satoru’s gaze holding yours for a moment—a soft smile stretching across his lips—and then, he reaches down to lift the pumpkin effortlessly—cradling it like a treasure.

“So… do we take it home now? Looks like we’ve got our perfect pumpkin, after all.”

You rise—shaking your head with a grin as you hold up a hand to pause him.

“Not so fast apprentice. You didn’t think we’d leave without experiencing the whole pumpkin patch, did you? C’mon, we’ll bring it up front, but check out later.”

Satoru chuckles, shifting the pumpkin under one arm as he raises his hands in mock surrender.

“Alright, alright. Guess I shouldn’t rush the experts,” his eyes shift to Haru and his smile softens. “So… what’s next on our agenda, sweetheart?”

ꨄ︎

As the three of you stroll hand in hand through the bustling market stalls, the air is rich with the warm aroma of spiced cider, caramel, and freshly baked treats. Each booth is piled high with autumn delights—jars of golden honey, hand-painted gourds nestled among small pumpkins, and cozy knit scarves draped invitingly over wooden displays.

But Satoru’s attention is instantly captivated by the booth ahead—his eyes brimming in boyish wonder as they land on a display of sweet treats.

“Is that cider? And caramel apples?” he exclaims. “Come on, we have to try these,” and he’s steering you both eagerly towards the booth—like a moth to a flame.

You blink—a little surprised by how openly delighted he is over something so simple. But soon, a warm smile breaks across your face, and you can’t help but chuckle softly while he tugs you along.

“You’re like a kid in a candy store right now.”

Glancing over his shoulder, he flashes you a grin so bright, it feels like a burst of sunlight breaking through the autumn clouds. His enthusiasm is contagious, and before you know it, you’re swept up in his excitement.

He eagerly orders three caramel apples and a steaming cup of cider to share. Then, turning back, he holds the treats up with a triumphant, radiant smile—gleaming with delight. Handing the first one to Haru, you watch as she sinks her small teeth into the sticky treat without hesitation.

“Mmm! Yummy!!” Caramel smears her cheeks, but she looks up at you both, absolutely beaming.

Satoru chuckles, reaching down to ruffle her hair fondly before turning back to you. With an exaggerated flourish, he extends a caramel apple in your direction—bowing slightly as he adopts a tone of mock chivalry.

“For you, my lady,” he says with a smirk.

Unable to hold back a grin, you roll your eyes at his theatrics—taking the apple from him.

“Why, thank you, kind sir.”

As you bring the treat to your mouth, the rich sweetness clings to your lips in a sticky kiss. But you can’t resist glancing over at Satoru—and there he is, utterly lost in the simple pleasure of it. He bites into his own apple with unfiltered delight, like it’s the best thing he’s had all day.

A smile pulls at your lips as you watch him—licking a stray bit of caramel from his thumb. He’s entirely unbothered by the sticky mess, but then, as if feeling your gaze, he looks up—catching your eyes with a glint of amusement. A slow, satisfied grin spreads across his face, unashamed and utterly charming.

"I didn’t peg you as someone who’d go for something this messy," you tease, taking another bite of your apple as he shrugs.

“You say messy; I say worth it,” he counters.

Your eyes linger on a small smudge of caramel at the corner of his mouth, and without thinking, you reach out—brushing your thumb gently across his lips to clean it away. But just as you begin to pull your hand back, he captures your fingers—holding them in place while his gaze meets yours. His lips curl into a smirk that promises nothing but trouble, and a shiver tingles up your spine the moment he brings your thumb to his lips.

Slowly, deliberately, he closes his lips around your thumb—enveloping the sticky sweetness in his warm mouth while sucking it off with a teasing slowness—leaving you breathless.

“You’re impossible…” you mutter.

Releasing your digit with a soft, tantalizing pop—your breath hitches, and there’s a smug delight in the way he studies you, reveling in the effect he’s stirred within you.

“What can I say?” he hums, licking his lips with a casual ease. “Sweet things are my weakness.”

Your eyes are helplessly drawn to his lips—watching as his tongue glides over his bottom lip, catching the last traces of caramel. For a heartbeat, you can’t look away; his lips look even more tempting than the caramel itself, and something about his self-assured gaze has you feeling flustered and captivated all at once.

“Your weakness, huh?” you breathe, finally managing to lift your gaze back to his, trying to sound nonchalant. “Good to know… I’ll remember that next time you act like you’re above everyone else.”

A rich, low chuckle rumbles from his chest as he leans in, and the air around you crackles with anticipation as his gaze drops to your still sticky lips.

“You should,” he whispers, his eyes flicking back up to meet yours—a glint of mischief and something softer. “Especially since caramel apples aren’t my only weakness.”

Before you can even catch your breath, he leans in, bridging the small distance between you until his lips hover just a whisper away. His mouth brushes against yours, feather-light at first—a tentative, lingering touch that sends a shiver through you. Instinctively, you find yourself mirroring his movements, returning the kiss with gentle insistence.

As his hand comes up to cradle your face, his thumb strokes a slow, comforting line along your cheek, grounding you, though his lips leave you feeling weightless. The kiss is a delicate dance, as intoxicating as it is tender, and you can taste the faint sweetness of caramel mingling with the warmth of him.

Pulling back, his warm breath mingles with your own as he rests his forehead gently against you. His eyes, soft and half-lidded, meet yours, and a small, satisfied smile tugs at his lips.

“You know…” he murmurs, caressing your cheek, “you taste even better than the caramel.”

“Sweet talker…” you mumble, your cheeks warming under his gaze as his smirk widens.

“Mmm, but you’re the sweetest thing here,” he breathes, voice dropping as he draws close again. “But… I think I need another taste. Just to be sure.”

This time, his lips press with a deeper, more assured insistence, moving against yours in a rhythm of warmth and quiet intensity. A low hum of approval escapes him, vibrating softly against your lips, and his hand slides to the back of your neck—fingers weaving through your hair as he tilts his head, deepening the kiss.

But just as you begin to lose yourself in the moment, a small, determined voice slices through the quiet intimacy like a record scratch.

“Hey!” Haru scolds, stern and resolute. “Bad ‘toru! Don’t squish Mama!”

Startled, you both break apart, blinking at each other as you catch your breath. You turn to see Haru standing nearby, her little arms crossed over her chest as she fixes Satoru with an adorably fierce look. Her brows are furrowed in a way that would be intimidating—if she weren’t so tiny.

Oh, Haru.

You exchange a quick, sheepish glance with Satoru, and he lets out a quiet chuckle, reaching down to ruffle her hair in an attempt to defuse her stern gaze.

“Don’t worry, kiddo,” he says, grinning. “Mama’s tougher than she looks.”

Wriggling out of his reach, she stomps her foot with a determined huff.

“That’s my Mama! You be nice, ‘kay?”

Satoru blinks—the corners of his mouth twitching up as he struggles to keep a straight face. Biting back a grin, he raises his hands in mock surrender.

“Right. You got it boss,” he nods solemnly. “I’ll be extra nice.”

There’s a brief pause as Haru narrows her eyes at Satoru.

“Promise ‘toru?”

“Promise.” He taps his chest for emphasis, as if making a sacred vow.

After a long, scrutinizing pause—deciding whether to take his promise seriously—Haru nods, a satisfied “hmmph” escaping her as she plops down beside you with her candy apple in hand.

“No more squishing,” she mumbles around a bite—keeping a wary eye on him.

That’s it—you can’t hold it in any longer. Laughter bubbles out of you, and Satoru glances up, catching your eye with a grin that’s equal parts amused and exasperated.

“Well…” he sighs, as if he’s been given the most impossible mission, “guess I’ve been told.”

ꨄ︎

As the three of you meander through the pumpkin patch, Haru skips along—tugging on your hands and pointing out each new discovery in delight—a scarecrow with a tilted hat, a butterfly fluttering briefly on a tall stalk of corn, a perfectly round pumpkin nestled under twisting vines.

Then, bouncing on her toes, she points toward a massive, lumbering tractor—its green paint chipped and worn, but still carrying an undeniable charm.

“Look, ‘toru! I wanna ride it!” she exclaims.

As Satoru’s eyes narrow on the rumbling machine, you can see the gears turning in his head. Him—a man of luxury and refinement, clambering onto a dusty old tractor?

But after one look at Haru’s eager face, his resolve crumbles.

And of course, moments later, he’s perched on a bale of hay—Haru bouncing with delight on his lap as the tractor lurches to life. The wheels crunch over the fallen leaves, and Haru chatters happily, pointing out every bump and turn in the ride—blissfully unaware of the incongruity of a billionaire on a hay bale.

After the bumpy ride, the petting zoo became Haru’s next paradise. Dashing from pen to pen, her tiny hands pressed against each fence—pointing at each animal with wide-eyed wonder—calling out, “Look, Mama! Look, ‘toru!”

Each discovery sends her gazing up at Satoru with curious eyes, expecting him to know everything about each creature, and he humors her with a quiet patience—kneeling down beside her to answer her endless questions with a tender fondness that tugs at your heart.

But as you’re savoring this rare, serene moment, you feel a subtle shift in the air. From the corner of your eye, you catch sight of a woman a few feet away, dressed in a cozy autumn sweater and a scarf, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail that spills over one shoulder. She’s dressed casual in appearance—completely harmless—but what unsettles you is the intensity in her gaze—a gaze that lingers on Satoru a bit too long.

At first, you try to brush it off. Maybe she’s just admiring him—after all, he’s breathtakingly attractive, and his presence has a way of turning heads even on his most inconspicuous days. But then, her expression shifts, morphing from idle admiration to something sharper.

Recognition.

Your heart sinks as you see her eyes widen, her mouth parting slightly in surprise. Holding your breath, you hope she’ll just let it go—that it’ll be a fleeting thought.

No such luck.

With a quick, subtle gesture, she nudges her friend beside her, her excitement barely contained. The friend follows her gaze, squinting slightly before her eyes, too, widen in realization. Their quiet murmurs are punctuated by eager glances your way, confirming your worst fear: they know who he is.

The comforting illusion of anonymity you’d clung to here—the precious notion that, for once, you could just be a regular family enjoying a simple day out—begins to fray at the edges, unraveling under the weight of their recognition. No matter how far you venture from the city, from his world of fame and fortune, it seems his reputation is impossible to outrun—constantly creeping back to claim him… to claim you.

Taking a deep breath, you slowly approach Satoru, who’s still kneeling by Haru as she excitedly babbles about the sheep. You crouch down beside him and gently place your hand on his shoulder—catching his attention. Turning to you, his expression softens at the sight of you—until he notices the concern in your eyes.

“They recognize you,” you murmur, tilting your head slightly toward the two women.

Following your glance, a shadow of something unreadable passes over his face as he takes in their intrigued, lingering stares, and for a moment, you feel the hopelessness creeping in—the reality that moments like these are fleeting—vulnerable to the slightest shift in attention.

But then, something shifts in Satoru’s expression—his gaze sharpening with determination as he catches sight of the disappointment settling in your eyes. Glancing around, he begins assessing the layout of the pumpkin patch—searching for an escape route.

Then, his gaze lands on it—a tall, winding corn maze, its entrance just a few yards away, partially hidden behind a cluster of hay bales.

Perfect.

Without a beat of hesitation, he leans in close to Haru—who’s blissfully caught up in a bunny nibbling on some hay.

“Agent Haru,” he intones with mock seriousness, “do you remember our mission?”

Haru’s head snaps up, her face lighting up instantly as she turns to him.

“Yeah!” she squeals, grinning with a spark of adventure.

“Good,” he nods, casting a quick, discreet glance toward the approaching women. “We need to escape without being spotted by those two ladies over there,” he gestures subtly, grinning. “Think you can handle it?”

Haru’s face scrunches up in concentration, and her tiny hands clench into fists as she straightens up. Her expression breaks into one of fierce determination—one that’s both adorable and earnest.

“Yes, ‘toru!” she whispers back, nodding.

With a reassuring smile, Satoru’s on his feet—taking your hand in one of his and Haru’s in the other.

“Hold on tight,” he quips, a smirk playing on his lips as the three of you dash toward the maze.

The moment you break into a run, Haru’s delighted giggles mix with the crunch of leaves underfoot, and soon you plunge into the tall, twisting rows of corn.

You steal a glance back towards the petting zoo, half-expecting to see the curious women following, but the corn closes in behind you like a cocoon, swallowing them from sight.

Satoru’s hand is warm around yours, grounding yet electrifying, and his laughter mingles with Haru’s squeals. With a sideways glance, his eyes meet yours and his grin is wide and exhilarating. Giving you a quick wink, he turns forward again, tugging you along as you dive deeper—daring you to keep up.

“Agent Haru, status report! Any enemies in sight?" he calls out in a mock-commanding tone.

Haru, bubbling with laughter, scans the rows of corn with exaggerated intensity—clutching his hand with fierce determination as her little legs pump as fast as they can.

"All clear ‘toru!" she yells back, brimming with excitement.

In that instant, the lingering worry, the quiet ache of reality, all of it dissolves into the thrill of escape—the magic of this moment. There’s no fame, no recognition, no judgement here; only the unrestrained joy of play, of racing through a maze as though the world is nothing but this stretch of golden corn and laughter.

You weave together through twists and turns—a blur of giggles and hurried footsteps until finally, you reach a small, secluded clearing tucked deep within the towering stalks.

Gasping for breath, you lean back against one of the tall stalks, and after a moment, you let yourself slide down to the ground—pulling your knees to your chest as you catch your breath, the crisp autumn air cooling your flushed cheeks.

Beside you, Satoru braces his hands on his knees, exhaling deeply before he follows your lead and sinks down onto the ground next to you. Though ahead, Haru seems immune to exhaustion. She’s already a few steps away, her eyes wide with wonder as she spots a butterfly lazily drifting through a patch of sunlight. Completely captivated, she crouches down, watching its gentle path—momentarily lost in her own little world.

Satoru’s eyes meet yours with a shared, silent thrill. Nudging your shoulder with his, a smirk tugs at his lips.

“Didn’t know a pumpkin patch would turn into a covert operation,” he exhales.

You laugh, breathlessly.

“Not exactly what I had in mind for a relaxing day out,” you give his knee an affectionate shove with yours. “But… I guess life with you is never boring.”

He chuckles, throwing his head back and gazing up at the autumn sky—a few streaks of orange and pink peeking through the corn tops.

“Well…” his eyes flicker to yours, sparkling with that familiar, teasing gleam. “You did sign up for the full Gojo experience. Adventures, paparazzi, occasional cornfield chases… it’s all part of the package sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes, though you can’t help the smile tugging at your lips.

“Uh-huh, sure, sure. I just thought it would involve more champagne and less running,” you quip, nudging him playfully.

“Oh, you want champagne?” he grins, raising an eyebrow in mock challenge. “You sure you can handle it? Remember that first charity gala? You were practically clinging to me by the end of the night.”

Your cheeks flush at the memory, and you laugh, slightly flustered.

“Okay, but did you expect me to be completely unfazed? My first gala, fancy dresses, and…"

The words die on your lips—the memory of that night creeping in; the low lights, the glint of champagne glasses, and then… that kiss. Your first kiss—with Satoru.

A kiss that was completely under the guise of putting on a show for Naoya… though let’s be real, it was anything but pretend.

Satoru’s eyes light up with interest as he catches your hesitation, his smirk widening like a cat about to pounce.

“Go on. Fancy dresses and… what, exactly?” he prompts, a playful drawl.

As he tilts his head with that infuriatingly charming glint in his eye, you know, that he knows, exactly what you were thinking. Ugh. He can be infuriating.

Your cheeks burn as you try to wave it off.

“Nothing! Just… the whole night was… overwhelming,” you mumble, trailing off as you divert your gaze.

A low, amused hum escapes him—rumbling through his chest as his knowing look revels in your embarrassment.

“Overwhelming, huh?” he echoes, grin widening. “Interesting choice of words… considering you were the one who practically jumped me in front of your ex.”

With an exasperated groan, you roll your eyes in protest.

“Well, what can I say?” you sigh, feigning indifference as you rest your head on your knees. “Drastic times called for drastic measures.”

“Mmm-hmm, sure, keep telling yourself that,” he chuckles—dropping his head to rest against his own knees. You hold your breath as his blue eyes catch yours with a quiet, teasing intensity. “But… I’m pretty sure you just couldn’t resist me…” his crooked grin grows, “after all, that kiss was all you.”

You scoff, your cheeks heating as you stretch your legs—trying to hide your amusement. “I think you’re misremembering things. If anything, you were the one clinging to me.”

His laughter spills out, rich and unrestrained. With a content sigh, he follows your movements, stretching out beside you.

“Sure, sure. Believe what you want, sweetheart.”

The comfortable silence settles over you, and you find yourself glancing back to where Haru is still entranced by a butterfly drifting through the sunlight, her face lit with pure wonder.

She’s so… happy. And that fills you with a deep, quiet gratitude. Moments like these are what you’ve always wanted for her. It’s what she deserves, and it warms your heart to know you’re able to give her a day like this.

A sigh escapes your lips, and your voice softens into a gentle murmur as you nod in her direction.

“For a minute there… I really thought we’d have to cut the day short.”

Satoru’s gaze flickers over to Haru, a fond smile softening his expression before he turns back to you. Without a word, he reaches for your hand—fingers intertwining with yours, steady and grounding.

“Nah,” he murmurs, quietly but firmly. “Not a chance. Nothing’s cutting this short. Todays about you and Haru.”

A warmth blooms in your chest, melting away any lingering traces of tension as his words sink in, wrapping around your heart like a gentle embrace. You smile, squeezing his hand in return.

“Just us, huh?” you whisper.

“Just us,” he echoes, brushing your knuckles with his thumb.

Then, with a soft sigh and a playful glint in his eye, he unclasps your hand to raises both hands to his mouth, calling out to Haru.

“Hey, Agent Haru!” he shouts, “Ready to finish our mission?”

Haru’s head snaps up, her eyes bright with excitement. She breaks into a grin and dashes over, grabbing each of your hands with her small, eager fingers.

“Yay!! C’mon mama, ‘toru! Let’s go!!”

ꨄ︎

As the golden light of early evening filters through the trees, the day is winding down, and the three of you start making your way back toward the entrance—weaving through the brightly colored stalls—each one bathed in the honeyed light of sunset.

But then, just as you reach the last stretch of the path, a delighted squeal breaks Haru’s focus the moment her gaze lands on a large, freshly raked pile of leaves just off to the side—a mound of vibrant reds, oranges, and yellows stacked high like a miniature mountain waiting to be conquered. Without a second thought, she breaks free from Satoru’s hand—dashing toward the pile with uncontainable excitement.

Zeroing in on the pile, she abruptly halts—her tiny form silhouetted against the colorful heap. You watch curiously as she glances back over her shoulder—her eyes alight with mischief and her cheeks flushed pink from the chill in the air.

Beaming with the thrill of discovery, she flings herself into the pile—a burst of leaves scattering around her in a vibrant whirlwind as she bursts into a fit of giggles.

“‘toru, look, look!” she calls out, peeking up from within the pile. “Come play, ‘toru! Come play!”

Satoru stops, watching her with a raised brow and an amused grin. He chuckles softly, though you can hear the reluctance coloring his tone. Diving headfirst into a pile of leaves? Clearly, that’s a foreign concept for Satoru Gojo—it’s more of that childlike wonder he missed out on.

Noticing his hesitance, you step up beside him—giving him a teasing nudge with your shoulder.

“C’mon ‘toru, afraid of a few leaves? Don’t tell me the ‘perfect’ Mr. Gojo is worried about getting a little dirt on him?”

He scoffs, rolling his eyes—though a smile is already tugging at his lips.

“Afraid? Me?” his hands burrow into his hoodie pocket as he casts you a sideways glance. “Hardly. I’m just… y’know… assessing the situation.”

Biting back a grin, you begin to take a few slow, deliberate steps backwards—inching toward the pile where Haru is waiting as your eyes hold his with a silent dare.

“Assessing, huh?” you raise an eyebrow and smirk. “Mmm… I dunno, sounds like stalling to me. Come on, live a little, Mr. Gojo.”

He smirks, but before he can respond, you twirl around and dive into the pile beside Haru—scattering a burst of leaves around you. Your laughter blends with Haru’s giggle as you sink into the softness, and immediately, she reaches for a handful of leaves—tossing them up in the air so they flutter down like confetti.

Satoru tilts his head, grinning but not budging as the kaleidoscope of autumn colors rain down upon you both. But Haru? She’s not about to let him sit this one out.

Peeking over her shoulder, her eyes immediately set back on Satoru, and her expression morphs into one of adorable determination.

“’toooooru,” she whines, wide eyes practically glowing with hope. “Pleeease. Come play!”

Oh, Haru. He’s powerless against her persistence—and perhaps, against the joy that radiates from the two of you in that pile of leaves. With a theatrical sigh and a reluctant grin, he finally pulls his hands from his pockets.

“Alright, alright,” he mutters, mostly to himself, and makes his way towards the leaf pile.

Standing at the edge of the pile, he kneels down to brush his hand over the crisp leaves—and then, with a sudden burst of resolve and dramatic flair, he lets himself fall back into the pile—flopping down as the leaves scatter around him. Haru wastes no time throwing herself on top of him.

An exaggerated grunt slips through Satoru’s lips, and Haru bursts into laughter as her small hands begin to bury him under a layer of vibrant foliage.

“Oh no!” he lets out a mock gasp as she buries him deeper. “I’m being buried alive! Save me!”

Haru’s laughter bubbles up, uncontrollable and infectious, as she adds even more leaves. “Stay still!” she scolds through her giggles, patting the leaves around his arms. “Don’t move, ‘toru!

“So, I’m supposed to just lie here and accept my fate, huh?” he huffs in defeat and glances up at her with wide eyes. “Are you sure this isn’t some secret plan to take me out?”

“Shhh!” she grins, putting a finger to his lips. “Magic leaves.”

“Oh, magic leaves? Well, why didn’t you say so?” his eyes glint with amusement as he lies still, trying to keep a straight face, though the laughter in his voice betrays him.

Haru continues to stack leaves atop him with a determined precision, until for a moment, she pauses—her eyes narrowing with that familiar glimmer of mischief yet again, as if she’s calculating her next move. Then suddenly, with a burst of energy, she tackles him with all her might—giggling as she sends the carefully arranged pile of leaves flying in every direction.

“Oh, it’s on!” Satoru laughs, his own grin widening as he grabs a handful of leaves to fling back at her. “You think you can get me like that, huh?”

In an instant, they’re caught in a whirlwind of laughter and autumn leaves. Seated nearby, you observe their playful battle unfold—Haru shrieking with joy as she ducks and scrambles to gather more ammunition. The warmth in your chest blossoms, and you feel almost entranced by the sight before you.

As Satoru’s deep, unrestrained laughter blends with Haru’s giggles, you realize in this moment just how rare it is to see him like this—completely carefree and unguarded. Gone is the man who must always play his part. Gone is the man who so often conceals his true self beneath layers of poise and duty. Here, with Haru, he is simply Satoru—someone who can laugh until he’s breathless and lose himself in a child’s game without a care.

You wonder how many other moments like this he’s missed—the boyish enthusiasm makes it seem almost as if he, too, is experiencing this kind of carefree fun for the first time. And that alone makes this moment feel so precious—something you wish you could capture and keep forever—suspended in time.

He deserves to feel this light, this unburdened.

“Okay, okay! I surrender!” he finally laughs, throwing his hands up in mock defeat before collapsing back into the pile—his chest rising and falling with exhilarated breaths as Haru cheers in victory.

“Gotcha, ‘toru!” she declares proudly—triumphantly piling more leaves on him. “You’re a leaf monster!”

Satoru chuckles, brushing a stray leaf off his nose as he props himself up slightly. “A leaf monster?” his eyes gleam playfully. “Well… you better be careful then—I might come back with vengeance.”

She squeals with laughter and her eyes sparkle with excitement as she scrambles to her feet. “Ahhh! Go away ‘toru!” she shrieks—darting away to dive into another pile of leaves nearby.

Watching her go, Satoru’s expression softens—a peaceful sigh slipping past his lips as he takes a moment to catch his breath. “She’s got endless energy, doesn’t she?” he murmurs, tilting his head up to meet your gaze.

Your heart flutters at the warmth in his eyes, and you lean back on your hands, letting your own smile mirror his as you watch Haru’s figure disappear into another pile of leaves. “She does,” you breathe softly. “But… I think you’re doing a pretty good job keeping up.”

A quiet hum of contentment escapes him, and a soft smile tugs at his lips. Almost instinctively, he shifts closer, letting his head nestle in your lap as he leans back into the leaves.

“Maybe…” he trails off into a lazy, satisfied sigh. “But I think I’ll take a break right here… if that’s okay.”

As the dappled sunlight filters through the golden autumn leaves above, it casts soft shadows across his face—illuminating the gentle warmth in his eyes. Your heart swells at the sight, and without a word, you reach out—threading your fingers through his hair, each strand slipping through your fingertips, softer than you expected. He hums, sinking into your touch, his eyes drifting shut as a slow, contented smile spreads across his lips.

Around you, the world seems to quiet, holding its breath. Haru’s distant giggles mingle with the soft rustling of leaves stirred by a gentle breeze, wrapping the two of you in a cocoon of peace.

“You know…” you murmur, “I think this is my favorite side of you.”

His eyes flutter open, a flicker of surprise giving way to something unguarded and vulnerable. Slowly, a tender smile forms on his lips as he reaches up, brushing his hand gently against yours.

“Yeah?” he drawls, “Didn’t know I had a ‘favorite side.’”

“You do…” your fingers trace gentle circles through his hair, savoring the feel of each delicate touch. “It’s the side where you don’t have to be anything but… here, with us.”

For a heartbeat, he’s utterly still, as if each word you’ve spoken has wrapped itself around his heart. His gaze deepens, and your breath catches—it’s like he’s seeing you in a way that reaches beyond words. Gently, his hand comes up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear—his fingertips grazing your cheek with a touch so tender it makes your heart ache.

“Guess I didn’t know I could just… be that,” he whispers.

You lift your hand, covering his and pressing it to your cheek. “Well, you can. With us, you always can.”

His gaze holds yours, something vulnerable yet content in his eyes, but then, as if unable to help himself, the warmth shifts into a familiar glint—a spark of playfulness creeping back into his expression. “Alright, alright…” he lets out an exaggerated sigh, “let’s not get too sentimental. I gotta keep up my ‘mysterious’ reputation, remember?”

A laugh spills from you, light and unrestrained, as you roll your eyes in amusement. “Oh, you’re plenty mysterious. Half the time, I still can’t tell if you’re serious or just messing with me.”

He lets out a long, exaggerated sigh, leaning back further into your lap as if he’s completely relaxed—the picture of contentment.

“You should know by now…” he murmurs, feigning seriousness as he closes his eyes, “…it’s usually both.”

The corners of his mouth twitch, barely hiding the smirk he’s trying to restrain, and you can’t help but shake your head, grinning at his theatrics.

“Well… for the record,” your voice naturally softens, “I think a little tenderness suits you.”

One eye flicks open at your words, his brow quirking as he regards you with amused curiosity. Closing his eye again, his smirk deepens as he nestles further into your lap.

“Oh, does it?” he murmurs lazily, but there’s no mistaking the glint of interest coloring his tone.

“Yup,” you reply, leaning back on your hands and glancing up at the sky with feigned indifference. “I dunno… it’s kinda cute, actually.”

The words slip out like a quiet confession, and you notice the shift in him immediately—a subtle but unmistakable change.

Unable to keep up his act any longer, a bright, satisfied grin breaks across his face as he sits up—lifting his head from your lap—and his fingers slip through yours, intertwining and pulling you near him.

“Cute?” his voice drops as he brings his face achingly close to yours. “Careful now… saying things like that? You’re gonna get yourself in trouble.”

You feel your heart pounding—the thrill of his closeness electrifying as his breath fans your skin, but you hold his gaze boldly with a smirk.

“Well, maybe I like a little trouble,” you whisper back.

A playful growl rumbles in his chest, his smirk deepening as he tightens his grip on your intertwined hands.

“Oh… now you’re really asking for it. You’re officially in trouble.”

In one swift motion, he wraps his arms around you—sending you both tumbling back into the soft bed of leaves. The world around you blurs into a whirl of amber and gold as laughter escapes your lips, filling the crisp autumn air. But as you settle, your laughter fades, leaving only a quiet, shared breath between you and a gentle smile lingering on both your faces.

Hovering above you, his gaze softens as the leaves cradle you beneath their rustling blanket. It’s as though he’s committing every detail to memory as his eyes trace each curve and contour of your face, and you take in a quiet breath as his hand finds its way up your cheek—brushing over your skin and making you melt under his touch.

“Gotcha,” he whispers, brushing his nose gently against yours.

A quiet gasp slips past your lips, your pulse quickening as his proximity becomes all-consuming. Still, you muster a playful eye-roll, though the warmth in your gaze betrays your affection.

“Is this your idea of ‘assessing the situation,’?”

“Absolutely,” he murmurs, eyes softening. “God, you’re beautiful…”

The sincerity in his voice leaves you breathless, and a warmth blooms in your cheeks that reaches all the way to your heart. Before you can respond, he closes the distance—his lips capturing yours in a kiss so soft, so achingly tender, it leaves you dizzy.

As he deepens the kiss, a soft sigh escapes you, your fingers finding their way into his hair, pulling him closer. Each brush of his lips is slow, deliberate—and everything else fades into nothingness, leaving only the warmth of his touch, the press of his lips, and the steady rhythm of your heartbeats entwined.

But just as you’re about to melt entirely into him, a tiny voice breaks through the haze of warmth and closeness.

“Hey!” Haru’s voice calls out, stern and unwavering. “Bad ‘toru!”

Pulling back, Satoru groans softly, chuckling under his breath. His gaze flicks to Haru, who stands with her hands on her hips, looking every bit the tiny but fierce protector. He drops his head in defeat, shooting you a look of amused resignation.

“Well, looks like we’ve been caught,” he whispers, brushing a stray leaf from your hair with a soft, lingering touch.

You stifle a laugh, trying to keep your composure as you glance back at Haru.

“We should probably get back to her before she starts scolding you again,” you sigh, rising to your feet with his help.

“Yeah, I don’t think I can handle another ‘squishing’ intervention,” he mutters, intertwining his fingers with yours as you both walk back to Haru, who’s watching the two of you with narrowed, all-seeing eyes.

With the sun dipping lower in the sky, it paints the fields in shades of amber and gold. The three of you make your way back toward the entrance of the pumpkin patch—Haru skipping along, her small hands clasped in both of yours as she chatters excitedly about everything she saw—even as the day winds down.

But as you approach the entrance, ready to leave this little haven of laughter and leaves behind, a quiet warmth settles in your chest—a feeling that this moment, this fleeting, joyful day with the people you cherish most, is a memory you’ll carry with you. This is your little family, and it’s worth all the chases, all the whispers, all the adventures.

For now, that’s all that matters.

thanks for reading this special little fall chapter! satoru is such a cutie pie with haru 🥹 i really wanted to have this out before october ended, but alas, my perfectionism kept holding me back 😅 anyways, ch 7 is indeed in the works—that'll be my next post, and it will be out by the end of this month. i appreciate you all being so patient, hope you had a lovely halloween 🎃 -aly 💛

taglist:

@geniejunn @fortunatelyfurrygiver @rosso-seta @acowboykisser @mikyapixie

@shokosbunny @fire-child-kira @aluvrina @laviefantasie @kurookinnie

@poopypipi @painted-hills @stillserene @mira-lol @k-kkiana

@sebastianlover @blueberrysungie @kalulakunundrum @doireallyhavetonamthis @lingophilospher

@ichikanu @artist1936 @christianacj27 @watermelon-online @jkbangtan7

@angelina7890 @aruraa @han11dh @jonesmelodys @k1ttybean

@a-trashbag @jotarohat @khaleesihavilliard @tsukistopglazer @elliesndg

@maskedpacific @that-redheadd @lovelyartemisa @eolivy

@valleydoli @voids-universe @sukunadckrider @aishies-stuff

@saccharine-nectarine @ilianasau @pinksaiyans @gojoslefttoenail

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byuno-o · 4 months ago

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ASTRO OBSERVATIONS I'VE OBSERVED.

NOTE: THESE ARE ANECDOTAL OBSERVATIONS; HENCE, MIGHT NOT BE APPLICABLE FOR EVERYONE.

Mercury in Capricorn almost always talks about jobs and money. If accompanied by Libra or gemini, they're meant to be in a field which requires them to make connections with financial people.

Air sign people are prodigies in something. Take this with a grain of salt.

Having 11 house stelliums, might mean that you'll get to your destiny through other people. Not necessarily stomping over them, but connections that you build will help you get higher and higher.

Cancer moons are some of the most insecure people I've met, but once they gain confidence over themselves, you just know you're seeing a star in the making. They are so flamboyant, just like Leo moons. Might have to do something with them being associated with luminaries and inner worlds since your moon sign depicts your inner self.

Work with your North Node and the house it resides in to become your better self. The sign and house always hold the key that leads to self-improvement which leads to better mental health and strong mindsets regarding your fears.

Interesting observation I've made on this: my Juno has no aspects in my natal chart. But it resides in 11th house in Aquarius in 28°. I'm yet to see anything significant regarding this.

The most picky Venus signs are Venus in Virgo and Venus in Capricorn. But they also love the hardest given that both love stability one way or another and providing comfort to their significant other is a matter of pride for them.

I don't understand why the manipulation tactics of fire signs are not talked about enough. Well?aspects can play a huge role, but know this: so many fire signs have so many different personalities.

Wherever you have Taurean degrees- 2, 14 and 26, just know you might have a scarcity mindset, and stubbornness rules that house.

6th house placements almost always deals with social anxiety. Correct me if I'm wrong.

If you have afflicted 11th house, just know your friends might not be what they seem.

12th housers and Pisces stelliums might get dreams about their future significant other or about their loved one's significant events. I had a friend who had heavy pisces in her chart, and she almost every time would dream about her best friends' results before exams and well, her dreams never lied.

Never underestimate an Aries' competitiveness. If they want it, they won't stop until they get it. But it's the journey that excites them.

I don't get the slander Venus in Gemini get in astro community: they are really cool people who love hard, if you meet their standards.

Do let me know what you think, and let's discuss.

#astro community #astro observations #astro notes #astro thoughts #rising signs #moon signs #sun signs #Entertainment purpose only

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urfavfrenchgrl · 1 month ago

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Muggle Studies

Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader ᥫ᭡ words: 2k ᥫ᭡ warnings: 18+ | SMUT | MDNI | public fingerfucking ᥫ᭡ summary: you cheated on your boyfriend with your best friend My first one shot omfg I hope you guys enjoy 🥹 For those who know me on Wattpad or A03, this passage was adapted from one of my fics for Tumblr.

You wandered through the winding corridors of Hogwarts, the familiar sound of your footsteps echoing softly off the stone walls. Your hands were buried deep in the pockets of your house robe, seeking warmth against the cool draft of the castle. Your stomach churned, a physical reminder of the breakfast you had skipped, choosing instead to avoid the Great Hall altogether. You couldn’t risk seeing either Mattheo or Cedric—both of whom you hadn’t spoken to since the Yule Ball. You and Cedric had been dating for two months. He wasn’t someone you were in love with, not really, but he was kind, reliable, and he took good care of you. There was a comfort in the stability he offered, something safe and predictable, even if your heart wasn’t entirely in it. But now, with everything that had happened, facing him felt impossible.

Your heart clenched at the thought of Cedric. Facing him now seemed impossible, especially with the weight of your secret pressing down on you like a boulder. The memory of your night with Mattheo still lingered, a dangerous mix of regret and yearning that sent an unexpected warmth between your legs whenever it crossed your mind. It had been a fleeting moment of weakness, a slip in judgment that you couldn’t afford to admit, even to yourself.

You and Mattheo had been best friends since your second year at Hogwarts, inseparable from the start. He had always been like a big brother to you—protective, loyal, and always by your side.

But something had shifted in recent months. The lines between friendship and something more had started to blur. You found yourself noticing things about him you hadn’t before—the way his dark eyes lingered on yours a moment too long, the sharp curve of his smirk that sent your heart racing. It confused you at first, but the more time you spent together, the more your feelings deepened, until you could no longer deny that you saw him differently.

And then came the ball.

Just as you reached the heavy wooden door of your classroom, the last voice you wanted to hear cut through the air behind you, freezing you in place.

“Hey, Y/N!” Cedric’s voice, warm and full of affection, called out. You closed your eyes briefly, taking a deep breath to steady yourself before turning around with what you hoped was a convincing smile.

Cedric’s face lit up as he strode towards you, his kind eyes crinkling at the corners. He cupped your cheeks between his hands and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, sending a fresh wave of guilt crashing through you. You could barely look him in the eye, knowing what you had done—what you had betrayed.

“Good morning to you too,” you murmured with a soft laugh, stepping back, though the smile never fully reached your eyes.

“I didn’t see you yesterday, or this morning,” Cedric said, his brows knitting together slightly in concern. “Are you avoiding me?”

His tone was gentle, but the question made your stomach twist in knots. What could you say? That you had been running away from your own guilt, from the look in his eyes that always made you feel safe, but now only reminded you of your betrayal?

“What? No! Why would I avoid you?” you forced the words out with a light chuckle, hoping they would come across as casual, though the weight of your actions made you feel anything but.

Stay calm, you thought. You have to keep it together.

“If it’s about the ball… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left like that,” Cedric said softly, his voice filled with regret. He looked down, his expression pained, as if it was his fault for leaving too soon. But you knew the truth. Cedric had waited for you, and when you showed up late, frustrated and embarrassed, he had left. You had been upset too—enough to leave the ball and end up in his best friend’s arms that night.

“It’s nothing, Cedric, really,” you reassured him, though your voice felt hollow. Over his shoulder, your eyes caught a familiar figure leaning against the stone wall further down the hall—Mattheo Riddle, his dark eyes fixed on you with that same dangerous glint.

Your throat tightened, your pulse quickening at the sight of him. You quickly tore your gaze away, focusing back on Cedric.

“I should get to class now,” you said, your voice soft as you brushed a hand over his cheek, forcing yourself to smile. “I’ll see you later?”

“Tonight in my dorm?” Cedric suggested, his smile so pure, so trusting. “The guys will be out at Quidditch practice, so we can watch a movie… just us.”

“Yeah… sounds perfect,” you replied, though the guilt gnawed at your insides like a beast you couldn’t tame. Cedric kissed your cheek and waved goodbye, disappearing down the corridor.

You were in deeper than you thought.

The moment you entered the classroom, you made a beeline for your usual seat at the back of the room, hoping for a moment of peace. You began unpacking your things, your mind racing, but before you could settle in, someone slid into the seat next to you.

You didn’t have to look to know who it was.

“That’s not your seat,” you said flatly, not bothering to glance at Mattheo, who leaned back in his chair with that infuriating smirk on his face.

“It is now,” he replied casually, his voice low and teasing.

You rolled your eyes, biting back a retort. You didn’t have the energy to argue with him today, not when your mind was already a storm of guilt and confusion. But when Ron Weasley walked into the room, sporting a fresh black eye, you turned to Mattheo, your anger rising.

“Tell me you didn’t do that,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, though the accusation hung heavy in the air between you.

Mattheo’s smirk widened. “He had it coming.”

Your jaw clenched, and for a brief moment, you wondered if Mattheo had done it out of jealousy because you and Ron had talked for a long moment during the ball before you rejected his advances. But you pushed the thought away, shaking your head. Ron could be a jerk sometimes, but he didn’t deserve this.

“You really don’t know how to behave, do you?” you muttered under your breath as Professor Rowle began the lesson.

Mattheo chuckled darkly beside you. “Not really.” His hand slid under the desk, finding its way to your bare thigh, his fingers brushing against your skin.

Your breath hitched, your body betraying you as a heat spread through you once more. You clenched your fists, trying to focus on the lesson, but Mattheo’s touch made it impossible. His hand slowly inched higher, his fingers teasing the edge of your underwear.

“Mattheo…” you whispered, your voice trembling, your face flushed with both embarrassment and desire.

“Shh…” he whispered back, his breath warm against your ear as his hand continued its slow, torturous movements.

The sensation sent a shiver of anticipation through you, your heart pounding in your chest as Mattheo’s fingers brushed the fabric of your underwear, teasing you with maddening slowness.

“You’d better stay quiet for me, alright?” Mattheo murmured, his voice a dangerous whisper full of promise.

You squeezed the edge of your desk, your breath coming in shallow gasps as your mind spiraled between guilt, desire, and the impossible situation you had found yourself in.

With a surge of confidence, Mattheo’s hand slipped further under your skirt, his fingers gliding beneath the fabric of your underwear with practiced ease. The moment his fingers found your wetness, your breath hitched, a wave of heat spreading through your body as his touch sent ripples of sensation coursing through you.

A soft, involuntary moan escaped your lips, and you bit down on it immediately, trying to maintain some semblance of control. But it was impossible. The way Mattheo’s fingers moved—slow, deliberate, teasing—ignited something deep within you. His touch was maddeningly light at first, barely grazing your skin, but that only made the ache inside you more unbearable.

Mattheo’s mind wasn’t as calm as his outward expression suggested. Seeing you with Cedric just moments earlier had ignited a fire of jealousy within him. You were still with Cedric—perfect, dependable Cedric—when Mattheo knew that only he could make you feel this way. No one else could push you to the edge like this, and the thought of you being with anyone else—especially Cedric—drove him mad.

His fingers moved with calculated precision, each stroke a reminder that you were his, even if you wouldn’t admit it. You might still be with Cedric, but right now, you were here with Mattheo, your body responding to his touch in ways Cedric could never make it. He was the only one who could drive you to this point, and he knew it.

Without warning, Mattheo slipped two fingers inside you, rough and deliberate, making you gasp. The sudden intrusion sent a shockwave of pleasure through your body, your breath catching in your throat as your legs instinctively clenched around him. His smirk only deepened as he watched you struggle to maintain control, knowing that the raw intensity of his touch was exactly what you craved, even if you wouldn’t say it aloud.

"Such a good girl for me," Mattheo whispered in your ear, his voice laced with arrogance and desire. His fingers moved faster now, more insistent, as if to remind you of who really had control over you.

A shiver ran down your spine at his words, your body arching into his touch. Your breath became ragged, your chest rising and falling quickly as you struggled to hold yourself together. But it was impossible. His fingers stroked you with relentless precision, pushing you closer and closer to the edge, until the tension inside you became too much to bear.

“Mattheo, please…” you whimpered, your voice barely a whisper, desperate for release.

He chuckled softly, clearly enjoying how you fell apart under his touch. His fingers pressed deeper, drawing slow, maddening circles that made your entire body tremble. "Let go, baby," he whispered again, his breath hot against your ear. "Come for me."

Your body responded instinctively, trembling as the coil of pleasure inside you finally snapped. A rush of heat overwhelmed you, your release crashing over you like a wave as your muscles tensed, your thighs clenching around his hand. You tried to stifle the moan that rose in your throat, biting your lip as the pleasure coursed through you.

Mattheo’s smirk grew wider as he watched you fall apart, his fingers still moving, drawing out your pleasure until you were trembling beneath his touch. Finally, he withdrew his hand, slick with your arousal, and brought his fingers to his lips, his eyes locking on yours as he slowly licked them clean.

"I hate you…" you whispered, your voice breathless and weak as you tried to catch your breath.

Mattheo chuckled, wiping his hand on his trousers with casual indifference. "No, you don’t," he murmured arrogantly, his gaze still fixed on you. "But you will."

His heart was still racing with the jealousy and possessiveness that had been gnawing at him since that night at the ball. Seeing you with Cedric had only made it worse. He wanted to remind you, selfishly, that only he could make you feel like this. Cedric could never compete, and Mattheo needed you to know that.

You glared at him, your chest still heaving as you tried to regain control of yourself. You had crossed yet another line, one that you knew you shouldn’t have. And the worst part was, you knew Mattheo had done it on purpose—every touch, every tease, designed to remind you that you belonged to him in ways you could never admit out loud.

Mattheo Riddle was going to be the death of you.

And the worst part? You weren’t even sure you wanted him to stop.

#mattheo riddle #slytherin boys x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo smut #harry potter #slytherin boys #hogwarts #slytherin boys smut #matt riddle #smut

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shotmrmiller · 1 year ago

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A/N: This was supposed to be a small thing cuz i inhale toxic ex's like air but here we are.

Thinking of a toxic ex!Simon that you broke up with almost a year ago. You wanted more than what he was willing to give you— unbelievable fuck aside— and you were just gonna get hurt in the long run. So you ended it.

What hurt the most was how he didn't even try to put up a fight. He just stood in front of you, as impassive as ever.

"If that's what you want." He shrugged.

And that was that. Ever since then, you've focused on yourself and your job. Meaning no dates, no get-togethers, nothing. Just work and lonely nights with a glass of wine. That he hadn't reached out once in all this time certainly rubbed salt on your wounds.

Now you're here. Out with a group of friends at a bar, after being borderline guilt-tripped into coming. A couple of mango martinis in and you're approached by a handsome fellow. Curly, brown locks and sun-kissed skin.

"Can I buy you another one, lass?"

"Sure. I'll never turn down a free drink."

He chuckles and his smooth laughter sends a shiver up your spine. As he turns away to get the bartender, you flick your eyes at your friends. They're giving you cheeky smiles and thumbs up.

Rolling your eyes with a smile, Mr. Handsome comes back with your drink before saddling up next to you on a bar stool.

"So what's a beautiful bird such as yourself doing all alone here?"

"I've been locked up for too long. Needed a change of scenery. And I gotta say, the view's quite nice."

He grabbed the back of your stool and dragged you a little closer to him, before tilting his head to the side— emerald green eyes half lidded and slightly covered by his curly hair.

"Is that right? I gotta say I also like what I'm seeing." Moving his hand from the padding of your stool to hook onto your hip, he says, "How about we move to a more private setting? Do you live nearby?"

He'd be the first guy since Simon that you've shown any interest in. You weren't ready for a relationship yet, but a distraction wouldn't hurt. And his staggering good looks certainly helped his case.

Nodding, you take out your phone from your purse to text your friends that have somehow disappeared when it vibrates, so you unlock your screen.

Take him home and I'm slitting his throat.

You flinch and look around wildly in a panic. Where is he?

"Hey, are you alright?"

Your phone vibrates again and you swallow hard before opening the text.

If his hand doesn't remove itself from your body, it'll be coming off of his.

You squeak before aggressively removing yourself from the stool, tripping over your heels. You weren't as sober as you'd like to be. The guy tries to stabilize you by grabbing your wrist but you jerk yourself away from his grip.

"I uh, I have somewhere to be." You toss on your jacket over your shoulders before running towards the front door and into the cool, rainy night.

Bzzt. Another text.

Good choice. I'd have hated ruining your nice purple comforter. It's one of my favorites.

You turn your body, doing a 360, eyes aimlessly looking for the ghost of your past life, when your phone rings. You frantically press the answer button.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!?"

You hear him tsk. "I'd lower that tone of yours, love. I don't appreciate being spoken to like that," he says condescendingly.

Sighing, "I'm allowing you to continue this delusional 'break' of yours, but my patience runs thin. No one is allowed to touch you but me."

Your heart beats viciously at his audacity and tears start running down your cheeks. In fear, in relief or in anger, you don't know.

"Don't cry, doll. You should've known you'd always be mine. Now go home. I'll keep you safe."

Hanging up, you do as he says, wondering how long he's been keeping tabs on you— haunting you. You make a note to yourself to check your flat for cameras.

#cod #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #ghost simon riley #be fr how mad would yall REALLY be???#toxic simon for LIFE #drabble

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reasonsforhope · 1 year ago

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hey, how do you cope with people saying we only have a small amount of time left to stop the worst effects of climate change? no matter how hopeful and ok i am, that always sends me back into a spiral :(

A few different ways

1. The biggest one is that I do math. Because renewable energy is growing exponentially

Up until basically 2021 to now, all of the climate change models were based on the idea that our ability to handle climate change will grow linearly. But that's wrong: it's growing exponentially, most of all in the green energy sector. And we're finally starting to see proof of this - and that it's going to keep going.

And many types of climate change mitigation serve as multipliers for other types. Like building a big combo in a video game.

Change has been rapidly accelerating and I genuinely believe that it's going to happen much faster than anyone is currently predicting

2. A lot of the most exciting and groundbreaking things happening around climate change are happening in developing nations, so they're not on most people's radars.

But they will expand, as developing nations are widely undergoing a massive boom in infrastructure, development, and quality of life - and as they collaborate and communicate with each other in doing so

3. Every country, state, city, province, town, nonprofit, community, and movement is basically its own test case

We're going to figure out the best ways to handle things in a remarkably quick amount of time, because everyone is trying out solutions at once. Instead of doing 100 different studies on solutions in order, we get try out 100 (more like 10,000) different versions of different solutions simultaneously, and then figure out which ones worked best and why. The spread of solutions becomes infinitely faster, especially as more and more of the world gets access to the internet and other key infrastructure

4. There's a very real chance that many of the impacts of climate change will be reversible

Yeah, you read that right.

Will it take a while? Yes. But we're mostly talking a few decades to a few centuries, which is NOTHING in geological history terms.

We have more proof than ever of just how resilient nature is. Major rivers are being restored from dried up or dead to thriving ecosystems in under a decade. Life bounces back so fast when we let it.

I know there's a lot of skepticism about carbon capture and carbon removal. That's reasonable, some of those projects are definitely bs (mostly the ones run by gas companies, involving carbon credits, and/or trying to pump CO2 thousands of feet underground)

But there's very real potential for carbon removal through restoring ecosystems and regenerative agriculture

The research into carbon removal has also just exploded in the past three years, so there are almost certainly more and better technologies to come

There's also some promising developments in industrial carbon removal, especially this process of harvesting atmospheric CO2 and other air pollution to make baking soda and other industrially useful chemicals

As we take carbon out of the air in larger amounts, less heat will be trapped in the atmosphere

If less heat is trapped in the atmosphere, then the planet will start to cool down

If the planet starts to cool down, a lot of things will stabilize again. And they'll probably start to stabilize pretty quickly

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mistyorchid · 3 months ago

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General Store

Old Man Logan x fem! reader

warnings: MDNI, no use of y/n, fluff, established relationship, age gap, reader is 21+, some suggestive actions/comments, pet names (doll, baby). wc: 739

When you run out of your favorite ice cream, you know it's time to make a shopping trip to the closest general store. You smile, fondly remembering lazy Sundays with Logan. He'd never admit it, but the sweet taste of chocolate ice cream helped ease his nerves; Twilight Zone reruns were no joke.

Logan turns on the radio, switching through static until he hears the baritone crooning of Johnny Cash. Every time the truck hitches over a bump, Logan steadies you with a firm hand on your thigh. At least that's how he justified it inching closer to the hem of your skirt. His cocky smirk makes you playfully slap his arm, but you secretly love the way he made you blush, even after you'd been dating for months.

He pulls into the neglected parking lot and kills the ignition, lovingly staring at your profile as you move to unbuckle your seat belt. The universe had shown him mercy when you spontaneously came into his life. Your boundless grace and empathy made his house a home. You once gifted him handmade framed embroidery that read, "God bless our smelting plant."

Logan's thoughts are interrupted by the faint click of the passenger door unlocking. "Not on my watch, doll," he exhales, rushing out of the driver seat and jogging to the passenger door. You reach for his hand, cautiously stepping down from the truck. Logan knew you could open the door yourself, but he always upheld the dying art of chivalry.

"Thank you." You smile, stabilizing your descent by placing your left hand on his white beater. "Sure thing," Logan responds, knowing you just want to feel his broad chest.

A quaint bell rings as you enter the store, alerting the cashier of your presence. "Howdy, welcome in! Milk's half off today." he chimes. Logan doesn't miss the way the young man's eyes widen as you saunter ahead of him to the frozen aisle. Hell, he didn't blame him. You never wore a bra when it was this hot, instead opting for a lightweight tank top. The cool air blasting from the open freezer door made the hard outline of your nipples difficult to ignore.

"You want our usual or this new flavor?" You ask, prompting Logan to ignore the cashier's gaze. He lengthens his stride and stands over you, peering into the freezer. The carton you pointed out had an adorable illustration of a bunny as its mascot.

"Hmm . . ." Logan ponders, leaning into the frigid air to grab the carton. "It's cute, reminds me of you. I say strawberry."

You trace your bottom lip, pretending to be indecisive. "If you say so." A sweet blush creeps onto your face, subtle enough to be missed by anyone but Logan.

The cashier's eyes linger on your tank top as you both return to the front counter. You were too busy checking out other items in the store to notice.

"Good choice, we just got that flavor last week. Cash or card?" The young man redirects his attention to Logan, who he assumed was paying based on the fact that he was holding the ice cream and already had his wallet out.

"Do people out here really use card?" Logan asks, puzzled by his question. He remembered a time when he'd have to write a check to pay if he didn't have enough cash.

"My dad's the same way," the cashier chuckles, trying to establish some common ground with you. Logan's eyes narrow at his lame attempt to relate to his girl.

My dad. This prick thought you were his daughter.

He throws more than enough cash onto the counter before muttering, "Keep the change." Logan tried his best to finish the transaction without leaving three scratch marks over the young man's uneven stubble.

You notice that Logan is brooding as you link your arm through his, more than usual. The cashier's words had stunned him into an icy silence, clearly bothered by their implication.

Before you cross the threshold of the door, you pull the collar of Logan's beater and kiss him hard. He gasps into your mouth, fingers moving to glide through your hair. Your tongue darts along his upper lip, deepening the kiss.

A thin string of spit connects your lips as you slowly pull away. "Mmm, almost as sweet as this ice cream, baby," You tease, savoring the cashier's shocked expression as you both hear the doorbell ring.

I really appreciate all of the <3 Meet-Cute (and my blog in general) has been receiving lately. Since your comments have been so sweet, I thought I'd write a fluffy drabble for y'all. My asks & DMs are open. Thank you all for the support.

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midseo · 3 months ago

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darlingdreadwrites · 1 month ago

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I read your Toby fics, and I really love your writing:D

I see your open with requests and I wanted to ask a Toby x final girl reader?

They just kept fighting against him, and he somehow gained a crush on the person he is supposed to kill? It's fine if you don't ;D

I WAS SO EXCITED TO WRITE THIS I SQUEALED WHEN I READ IT!! i hope i do right by you, my lovely anon.

pairing: Ticci Toby x Final Girl F!Reader

summary: Toby thought you'd be an easy target since you were just a girl. He should've gone with the easy kill when he had the chance.

contains: getting chased by a man wielding two hatchets, slight pov switches but it's still in second person, idk what else to put

warning: violence, gore (more like imagery is gore-y), MEAN TOBY, reader gets hurt, toby gets hurt, me not knowing how to write fight/tense scenes and the logistics that go with them, barely any talking cuz i think toby would be too embarrassed by his stutter

word count: 1.6k

masterlist

a.n: when i read final girl in the request, i pictured reader wearing those outfits that female japanese horror game protags wear (picture fatal frame). i’m gonna keep the end ambiguous for you because my freak brain wants it all to work out perfectly for them, but the other part of my brain wants to keep it realistic cuz there’s no way in HELL i’d let someone forcing me to run live. if you want me to continue where i left off i’d be so glad to (and you can pick whichever type of “route” you want). ENJOY!!

The cool, night air gave you chills all over as your feet pounded against the soft forest floor under your feet. With every quick step you took, another short burst of breath escaped your lips. It felt like you were being pushed back by a sudden gust of wind, but the trees continued to look blurry in the corners in your eyes, and that was a good thing. You kept your pace – even if it felt like the breeze kept poking needles into the cuts on your skin.

You had decided to actually dress up today but stayed mindful enough for the fall weather. So, you weren’t exactly dressed for the occasion. Maybe next time you decide you want to get attacked by some psycho swinging hatchets; you’ll be a little more fucking prepared.

The whistling of said hatchet reminds you of why you were running. The sound of his weapon whirred by as it lodges itself deep into the bark of a tree. It’s already behind you as your mind yelled at your body to keep up. His other hatchet thwacks into a tree too close to your head and you scream involuntarily. You stumble to a stop stupidly, stabilize yourself, and drag your body to pivot and sprint to the right.

You weren’t sure how long you could keep going. But - as much as your lungs burned - that buzz that came from fighting for your life nagged at you like a bitch. You don’t care how much your body hurts because you will deal with the consequences later.

You’re not going to let yourself die.

Toby grunted as frustration and anger seethed in his veins. Wrapping his hands around the handle of his hatchet, he kept his eyes trained on you as he struggled to pull the thing free. He’d all but forgotten that the other one was a few feet away. He wasn’t normally fond of losing his favorite toys. He wouldn’t lose you either.

You were a stupid, stupid girl, after all.

His head violently twitched to the side compulsorily when he finally dislodged his weapon. A few wood chips flew out and landed on the muddy leaves below. He stood there, taking and letting out deep breaths.

He thinks about what might be going through your mind as you keep running. Maybe about how you were gonna get out of here, call the pigs, and have some nurse tend to the wounds he gave you. He smiled and tightened his grip on his hatchet as he fantasized about your naïve hope. He knew these woods like the back of his hand.

You wouldn’t make it out of here in one piece.

You slow down as the structure of a house comes into view. It fits the eerie atmosphere perfectly – chipping paint, broken windows. You’re not here to admire the neglected building, though, and you stomp up the small steps. The door lets out a low groan as you practically shove it open using your shoulder.

Slamming it behind you, your head whips around for the exit or some type of weapon. In the distance, you can hear the shrill whistle of the man outside, an involuntary thing, you’ve noticed. Just how long have you been fighting this freak? Enough to learn his quirks, that’s for sure.

Delving deeper into the house with hurried steps, you look around for a kitchen. Find a weapon, find a weapon, you repeat to yourself, the sound of your quick gasps filling your ears. You catch yourself on the doorway when you almost rush past it.

You barely stepped foot into the room before crying out when you felt something make impact with your back. The dull, heavy pressure sends painful shockwaves through you. Having the wind knocked out of you, the muscles in your back spasm and you buckle forward. He shoves you, and you wheeze as the edge of the rusted stove in front of you digs painfully into your stomach.

Your eyes immediately land on a cast iron skillet, and you think you have less than three seconds. You smash the pan against the side of his head, your grunt and the metal clang the only sounds in the room. You were confused as to why he wasn’t yelling out in pain. But your arms jerked upward, the heavy iron bludgeoning into his chin and he stumbles back.

Toby can hear the ringing in his ears with each blow to his head, his world spinning for far too long than he would’ve liked. He snarls and grabs your arm, throwing you in the direction of a wall hard - causing you to drop your makeshift weapon.

He looks at you, at how your legs shake as you try to steady the world around you. Look at you - you looked like a fawn. With your wide eyes and trembling form. Guess he’ll be your coyote, right? He’d sink his teeth into the side of your neck and stain his maw with your crimson flood. You were just pretty enough that he couldn’t wait to watch your eyes roll back when he greedily kept the air from inflating your lungs.

No, but you weren’t a fawn, were you? He’d seen more fight in you than any of the losers he was tasked to kill. They sobbed – they fucking begged on their hands and knees – to keep him from tearing them limb by limb. You were stronger than he thought you’d be, but you weren’t as agile as he was, he thought.

His face stretched as another wide, sinister grin spread across his face. His gloved hand tightened around the hatchet’s handle. He could hear the leather creak if he focused on anything other than your breathing.

You duck and stumble out of the way as you hear the spitting of wood above your head. He yells out a loud “fuck!” and attempts to yank the weapon free. You run out of the room and almost collide with another wall. You pivot on your heel because there was no way you’d run away from the front--

Gasping, you caught your balance before you could fall through the gaping hole on the floor. No time to jump, you told yourself, and you spun once again. Sprinting down the hall, you were met with the door to a room rather than any kind of exit.

You’d remember to set this house on fire when you made it out alive.

The room stunk of decaying carcasses and a thick powdery smell – the former outperforming the latter. You make your way to a second door and find yourself in a bathroom. You think there’s nothing here heavy enough to hurt him until your eyes land on a towel rod that hung loosely from the wall.

With a determined tug it comes out and you know he heard it. You can tell by the way you hear his heavy boots scramble in the direction of the room. You take a deep gulp of air and press your back against the wall next to the door.

The air was heavy with tension as the door creaked open. His shadowy figure stretched on the floor, and he walked right in. Would he turn around? Would he sense where you were before it was too late?

While he twisted around, you slam the rod into the side of his head. He’s disoriented for a moment, his head rolling to the side. Before he could react, you lifted your right leg, and the bottom of your shoe made contact with his stomach – sending him hurtling back.

Toby lets out a groan as he loses his balance and falls into a tub. His limbs sprawl out, legs and arms dangling from the sides. He attempts to move when a raw, guttural scream that causes his chest to tighten makes him stop. His eyes dilate as he stares at you wildly. Something about your scream has shaken him to his core. His head was still dizzy and a little numb from the force of your hit. And yet he couldn’t help but admire your resilience. He should be livid – breaking all your fingers and pulling your pretty little teeth out of your mouth one by one.

The man’s tics overtook him, his eyelids squeezed shut with a sudden intensity. He opens them again, and you’re still rooted in the same spot – breathing heavily. He’d never seen a girl look as hot as you did right now. He didn’t think that was even possible in your state. Your clothes, hair, and face were caked in mud and blood from your gashes. A girl like you should’ve been screaming in pain and crying for her mommy. But you stared at him with a burning defiance that caused his heart to pound violently against his chest.

His hatchet lay at your feet, and he realized that you had gotten him. You won. He could try attacking you again – he was bigger than you – but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He can’t fight back anymore; he just stares in what he can only assume is awe. Years of taking lives and witnessing more gore than anyone ever should, could not have prepared him for this moment. You didn’t stop – you just couldn’t. It was… admirable. Beautiful, even, if he was a more sentimental person.

You piqued his curiosity like nobody had ever done before. He wanted to know what made you tick. He wanted to study every movement, sound, and judgement you’d ever make. You could break all the bones in his body, and he’d come running back to watch you do it again when the Operator put him together again.

You astonished him.

So, what’ll you do now?

#ticci toby x reader #ticci toby x you #ticci toby x female reader #tobias erin rogers #toby rogers x reader #creepypasta fanfiction #fanfiction #creepypasta x reader #x reader #x female reader #x fem!reader #female y/n #reader insert #creepypasta ticci toby #ticci toby creepypasta #creepypasta fanfic #final girl

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delicatelysublimeforester · 9 months ago

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Restoring Forests to Fight Climate Change

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sheerfreesia007 · 3 months ago

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Moves Too Quick

Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader

Word count: 2,587

Content warnings: Fluff

Summary: Han is coming to terms with his feelings for you, his best friend. What happens when he sees you in a bikini of his favorite movie?

Nae Sarang: My Love, Gongjunim: Princess

Han laughed loudly as he watched Changbin grab onto Hyunjin and pretend to throw him into the pool as the taller boy tried to stay on the pool deck. The group of them were all gathered to hang out at the pool to try and stay cool in the heat wave that they were experiencing right now. It was supposed to be a fun filled day but Han was a little on edge with the addition of you to their group.

Lee Know had made the decision to invite you along to the pool day without letting anyone know until about a half hour before you were all supposed to meet up. Normally it wouldn’t be such a bad thing for you to come hang out with them but lately Han had been struggling with his feelings towards you. You were beautiful and so sweet and kind to all of them that he had found himself falling hard for you and trying to keep up with his growing affection for you. And while you hadn’t caught onto his emerging emotions the other boys had and used every opportunity possible to tease him about it.

There had been a few times when he thought you had understood what the boys were teasing him about but you never said anything and while he was thankful for that it was always maddening because he kind of wanted to just rip the bandaid off and see what happened. But then his anxiety would rise up and nearly seize his insides and keep him in a chokehold. He hated this constantly flopping back and forth with his emotions and needing to express them but not being ready to hear the rejection he was sure you’d give him. It was starting to take a toll on him. He hated this constant state of being on edge or anxious around you.

Han darted his eyes around his friends for a moment before he spotted you talking to Lee Know looking a little nervous about something. He wondered idly what you had to be so nervous about but when he saw Lee Know put a soft hand on your shoulder and say something to you that he couldn’t hear he felt his chest stutter with air. You looked so unsure of yourself and Han instantly wanted to reassure you with whatever it was that made you nervous and unsure.

You nodded at Lee Know for a moment before taking a step back and quickly slipping your baggy t-shirt off your body. Han felt his mouth go dry as he saw the bikini top covering your torso, it had some sort of pattern on it but it was held together with thin straps that hooked at your back and behind your neck. Not to mention the image you made wearing a pair of baggy basketball shorts that made you look so tiny and precious that Han’s heart thudded heavily in his chest.

”You’re drooling.” Chan says softly and Han immediately wipes at his mouth as Chan and Changbin laugh at him teasingly. He scowls and shoves Chan away from him as Changbin cackles loudly at him. Han moves to shove Chan again as the older man wiggles his eyebrows at him but he’s instantly halted when your sweet voice speaks up.

”Hey fellas.” You greet them and Han turns to you with a soft smile on his face while Chan and Changbin chuckle knowingly at the younger man before happily greeting you.

“Hi Gongjunim!” greets Changbin as he wraps you in a tight hug before lifting you off your feet slightly making you squeal softly as your arms wrap around his neck. Your laughter is infectious as Chan and Han both grin at the display of affection Changbin has for you before he’s setting you back on your feet making you wobble slightly. Han reaches out to stabilize you but Chan beats him to it as he holds your elbow steady letting you find your balance as you grin up at the older man.

“That’s a pretty bathing suit.” Chan says suddenly and Han frowns at him quickly before his head turns and he gets a good look at your bikini. His eyes widen into big saucers when he notices that the bikini has different scenes from Howl’s Moving Castle all over it and he feels his brain turn to mush, you knew his favorite Studio Ghibli movie was Howl’s Moving Castle the two of you had plenty of movie nights where you’d both debate the pros and cons of all the Studio Ghibli movies. He knew your favorite was Spirited Away, which made him wonder why you hadn’t chosen to buy a bikini with that movie’s scenes on it.

“Thanks! It was a toss up between this one and Spirited Away to wear today. Felt like Sophie today.” you responded with a shrug of your shoulders and a soft smile on your face. Han’s eyes dart over your body and feels himself grow warm at your explanation as he smiles adoringly at you. You’re beautiful in that easy unbothered way that he loves about you, and while he still feels conflicted with his emotions he can’t help but be drawn to you and how relaxed you make him feel just by being you.

“You look hot!” he says boldly and silence falls over the pool area as your eyes widen while a pretty red blush creeps across your body starting from your exposed chest. Chan and Changbin gape at him while you duck your head embarrassedly as Han suddenly freezes with panic. “I-I I mean.” he begins to stutter softly when suddenly Seungmin and Jeongin burst out in loud laughter. Han watches as you turn to them still blushing to scowl at them as they continue to laugh. “I’m so sorry.” Han says softly before he jumps into the pool to get away from the awkward situation, he swims to the far corner of the pool where Felix and Hyunjin are hanging out. Felix immediately reassures him as Seungmin and Jeongin still laugh loudly, Han doesn’t look at you as he feels his whole body heating with the hot flush of his embarrassment but out of the corner of his eyes he can see Lee Know at your side saying something to you as you nod your head.

It’s later in the day and the hangout is starting to wind down, Han has successfully avoided you ever since he blurted out that he thought you were hot earlier. Though he has caught on that you’ve also been avoiding being near him as well as you played and relaxed in the pool with the others. He felt bad about avoiding you but he felt even worse when he realized that you were giving him space and not being as close to him as you normally were.

Han watched from his spot in the corner of the pool as you and Hyunjin laughed at something Changbin said while lounging on the steps of the pool. Your head was tossed back and the muscles in your neck were on display to him, making his body heat with desire and affection for you. Suddenly Jeongin calls for you as he’s standing over by the lounge chairs letting you know that your cell phone is ringing, Han watches as you scramble out of the pool and quickly race for your cell phone, able to grab it before it stops ringing. They all watch as you talk to whoever is on the other line before you nod and hang up the phone.

“Alright guys, I’ve gotta get going. One of my girlfriends needs me to help her with something.” you tell them with a bright smile on your face. Han feels instant disappointment that you’re leaving already but he follows the boys out of the pool to say goodbye to you. You’re quickly drying yourself off as Lee Know and Chan say goodbye to you while giving you big hugs and thanking you for joining them today. The rest of the boys are slow to say their goodbyes and Han watches quietly as you easily slip on your clothes once more before storing away your towel in your backpack. You turn and hug Seungmin and Hyunjin quickly before your eyes darted over to Han and he perks up a little bit. “Walk me to my car Ji?” you ask him with a soft smile on your face. He eagerly nods his head and feels his chest puff up importantly as you give him your attention.

“Of course.” he responds and slips his sandals on before guiding you to the gate that leads to the parking lot. The two of you are quiet as you wave one last time at the boys as they all yell goodbye to you causing you to chuckle and smile at their antics. You then turn your head and smile brightly at Han and he responds with his own wide smile as you fall into step next to each other. YOur eyes crinkle at the sides and Han feels his heart thud heavily in his chest, you’re too cute for his sanity and he can’t seem to control himself now. “I’m sorry. For earlier.” he says suddenly and you look at him with furrowed eyebrows before your face clears and you smile softly before ducking your head and chuckling. He can see your blush coming back and he feels his panic start to return as his hands come up to try and assuage your embarrassment and his panic.

“It’s okay Ji.” you say fondly to him as you smile softly at him. Your face is still sporting your pretty blush but your smile is kind and the sparkle in your eyes is teasing. He watches as you turn to face him while walking backwards towards your car and he picks up his pace to make sure that you don’t trip or fall as you continue walking to your car as you smile warmly at him. “I know your mouth moves too fast for your brain sometimes. It’s okay. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable though.” you say with a shrug of your shoulders and Han stumbles slightly at your words. You were worried more about him being uncomfortable than him just blurting out that you were hot? He can feel the warmth in his body from his panic earlier start to melt his insides at how considerate you were of him. He should’ve known that his words would just roll off your back and he shouldn’t have been embarrassed, you knew just as well as he knew you. It’s not like this was the first time his mouth had gotten him into the hot seat with you. But he wanted you to know that what he said earlier was the truth for him, he thought you looked hot and gorgeous in your bikini. So once again he let his mouth get the better of him.

“It’s the truth though. You looked so good in your bikini.” he said truthfully as his eyes focused on yours and you nodded at him with a pleased smile on your face. Suddenly your back hit the back passenger door of your car and you looked over your shoulder at your car before turning back to him.

“Thanks Ji.” you said, sounding thankful of his words as your cheeks were dusted pink at his compliment.

“Why did you choose Howl’s and not Spirited?” he asked curiously as he remembered that you had mentioned having bought two bathing suits with the two movies on them. He watched as your eyes widened slightly before you turned your head to the side and chuckled softly as if you were embarrassed.

“Well you see Lee Know’s been on my case about being honest about my feelings lately and I thought if I wore a bikini with your favorite movie on it then it’d give me courage.” you explained to him and he tilted his head to the side confused on what you were trying to say.

“Courage for what?” he asked and you smiled shyly down at your feet as he took a step closer to you.

“Courage to confess to you how I feel about you.” you said softly and Han’s breath stuttered out of his chest as his thoughts fell into chaos at your soft admission. He licked his suddenly dry lips as his eyes danced across your downturned face trying to connect with your eyes but you weren’t allowing him to.

“And how do you feel about me?” he asked breathlessly and you grimaced softly before smiling adoringly down at the ground.

“I’m in love with you Ji.” you say softly as your face turns up to stare at him with soft adoring eyes. “But I don’t want to pressure you or anything.” you say quickly as you raise your hands to hang in the air shaking between the two of you. “I adore you and feel so comfortable and safe with you but I won’t push for anything more than friends if you don’t like me back.” you reassure him and he feels his heart seize in his chest before it begins to race double time. You were in love with him, you were in love with him. Han felt like he was on cloud nine as he stared at you with wide eyes as his mouth dropped open slightly. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make this weird or awkward!” you say suddenly and Han quickly shakes his head as he sees you begin to panic at his quietness.

“No!” he suddenly bursts out and you stare at him surprised as he cages you against your car. His arms come up to bracket you in and you stare at him with wide shocked eyes. “Please, give me one second. My mind is racing.” he pleads softly and you smile fondly at him before nodding your head slowly. You settle against your car and Han takes a moment to gather his thoughts. “I’ve been struggling with my feelings for you for the past few weeks.” he starts to explain. “You’re my best friend and I’ve started to feel like I’ve wanted more than just friendship lately. I want more than just cuddles during movie night, I want to be able to press kisses to your lips and skin without it being weird. I want to spend the night with you just holding you close to me. I want to take you on cute couple dates where no one else matters but each other. I want all of it with you.” he confesses softly and feels his heart sing inside his chest as he sees the blossoming grin on your face as your eyes sparkle excitedly. “I’m in love with you too nae sarang.” he whispers to you and he suddenly feels your hands grip his damp t-shirt before you pull him forward up against you as your lips press to his in a chaste kiss. He grunts against your mouth before you pull away to rest your forehead against his as you grin widely at him.

“Sorry my mouth moved too quickly for my brain there for a second.” you tease him and Han chuckles softly before cupping your face and pressing another soft chaste kiss to your mouth.

“We both have that problem huh?” he asks goodnaturedly and you chuckle at him before nodding your head eagerly with sparkling eyes.

#stray kids #my writing #han jisung #han jisung x reader #skz x reader #skz

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nadvs · 8 months ago

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watch and learn (part five)

pairing fratboy! rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

content warning drug and alcohol use

summary it takes one conversation with your college dorm neighbor to know you won’t get along. rafe is loud, rude, and short-tempered. after he overhears you talking about a disappointing fling, he loses his confidence in his sexual abilities and suggests you start hooking up to both improve your skills in the bedroom. you can’t stand him, but it’s too good of an offer to turn down.

» masterlist

*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

The moon is bright and the air is brisk as you and Rafe sneak out of the lakehouse and rush towards the dock, still only in your bikini.

The stone steps leading from the porch to the backyard are slackened and a bit slippery, so you instinctually grab his hand to keep yourself steady.

He tenses immediately, his hand closing as your fingers pinch around his. He wriggles out of your grip.

“Rafe, I’m just trying not to fall,” you say, irritated.

“Watch where you’re going then,” he tells you. You scoff. Asshole.

This is just like the other night, when he warned you not to do any couple shit. As if you’d ever consider a relationship with someone so emotionally unavailable.

“You need to chill,” you tell him. “Holding hands for a few seconds doesn’t make us a couple.”

It’s too much for him, being touched by you in an affectionate, non-sexual way. You teased him the other day for cuddling you and he hated that you were sort of right about him liking it.

Rafe sighs and decides to just give in, offering his hand to you. You cup his cool palm and he doesn’t squeeze your fingers back. It’s fine. You only need the stability.

You reach the long, planked dock and let go of his hand immediately, following him towards the boat bobbing in the water.

“How’d you even get the key?” you ask, trying to push away the tension.

“Stole it,” he says.

“Wait, really?”

“No, not really,” Rafe teases, looking back at you.

You roll your eyes and smile. At least when you argue, it doesn’t last for very long. Besides, you’re both here for one reason and there’s no need to complicate things with any sort of petty conflict.

The cruiser boat’s shimmering black planes are sharp and sleek and the only covering is a glossy roof on angled pillars. You thought it’d be more private.

You stand behind Rafe as he begins to unravel the rope tying the boat to the dock.

“What if someone sees us?” you ask.

“Let them,” he grumbles.

“Rafe,” you warn.

“I’ll drive it out far,” he says, motioning towards the boat. “Go.”

You step onto the swaying boat and settle onto one of the two cushioned booths beneath the roof, watching him.

Even in the moonlight, you can see the planes of his biceps bulging beneath his t-shirt sleeves as he works on the rope. He seems to know exactly what he’s doing.

Perks of being rich, you figure. He’s probably lived such a privileged, comfortable life.

When Rafe steps onto the boat, he flips a few switches and turns the key into the ignition. Thankfully, the motor offers only a quiet hum, not alerting anyone in the house upstairs.

He slowly shifts the throttle forward with one hand, holding the steering wheel with the other. He’s so confident, so in control.

You were already turned on from the way he propositioned you upstairs earlier tonight, but watching him is making lust coarse through you even harder.

He may be a jerk most of the time, but he’s hot enough that you can ignore it.

“Do this with other girls,” you tell him. “Trust me.”

“What?” He glances back at you.

“Apparently, a guy driving a boat is hot,” you say. You almost forgot this whole arrangement was supposed to be instructional.

Rafe looks forward again, his lips quirked in a coy smile.

He slows the boat down in the middle of the quiet lake and kills the engine. The water ripples beneath you from the motion of the boat cutting through it.

He loves that you don’t wait for him to come to you. You wedge yourself between the wheel and him, pressing your body up against his, pulling him down to kiss you.

His hands find your waist, and you reach back to push them down to your ass.

“We skipping the foreplay you’re always annoying me about?” he mumbles against your lips, fingers digging into your skin.

“I hate to give you any credit,” you say, “but you already kind of did it. When we were talking upstairs and you said...”

“You can do it,” Rafe teases.

“That you could make me cum in a minute,” you finally say, body flushing with heat. “Foreplay can start hours before we even touch.”

“Damn, so… you been turned on since then?” he teases. It’s so gratifying that the whole time you were another guy, you were thinking about what Rafe would do to you.

“Shut up,” you laugh, pulling him in again, your hands cupping the back of his neck to kiss him.

Your open mouths are hot, tongues tangling together as Rafe grips your ass harder and grinds against you. His body curves into yours as he kisses you deeper, his touches growing rougher.

He pulls his shirt off and his bare chest against your half-naked body is firm and warm. His hand slides up the curve of your spine and finds the knot holding your bikini top together. He pulls the string, brushing down the straps and letting the bikini fall.

Rafe ducks to put one of your breasts in his mouth, sucking and flicking with his tongue, making you throw your head back in pleasure.

You throb with need as he licks you, taking in the sensation of the cold air pressing against your skin, his warm mouth on you, the boat gently rocking in the middle of the dark lake.

He puts his hand on your other breast, squeezing and pinching your nipple and your fingers find their way into Rafe’s soft hair, gently pulling at the roots, enjoying the grunt of pleasure you hear from him.

He eagerly pulls at the hem of your bottoms, mouth losing contact with you as he peels them down your thighs, crouching to get them to your ankles so you can step out of them.

“Damn, baby,” Rafe says huskily, taking the sight in. “Your pussy is so fucking pretty.” Your stomach numbs at his words. He’s been craving another taste of you for so long. Too long.

With his knees on the cold floor, he leans forward and flattens his tongue against your lips, earning a tremble from you. Your knees weaken as he uses his tongue to spread your lips apart, dipping between your folds with urgency.

You spread your legs and hike one up, resting your foot on the cushioned seat you were just sitting on.

“Good girl,” he says. “Spreading yourself open for me.”

You look down, moaning as he laps at you, taking in the way his eyes look in the moonlight, the way his hair is bunched between your fingers.

“Shit, that’s so good,” you purr. “You’re so fucking good at that.”

“I said less than a minute. Start counting,” Rafe says smugly. You giggle, amused and aroused and elated. The numbers sound weak as you start to mumble through them.

He starts to suck harder, slurping and enjoying your taste. Your voice immediately starts to waver and he pulls back.

“Don’t stop counting,” he orders.

“Four… five… six,” you continue breathily. Rafe closes his eyes as he savors you, already addicted to how you taste and how soft you are.

After working your clit, he shifts to shove his tongue inside of you. The sound of you trying to focus on counting while you moan from the pleasure he’s giving you is cosmic, out of this damn world.

Rafe continues to fuck you with his tongue, saliva starting to run down his chin, his nose wet from you. He moves back up to your clit, tongue flicking quickly.

“Thirty-four… oh, fuck…” you say.

“Oh, fuck? Is that a new number?” he mocks, making you smile and bite your lip as you tighten with bliss. You feel his big hand stroke up and down your middle, trapping your clit between his fingers and squeezing.

“Rafe,” you moan. “That’s so… fuck, that feels amazing.”

He smirks and locks his lips around your clit as he shifts to push two fingers into you. You clench around him and he can’t wait to be inside you.

He curls his fingers in and out of you while he sucks your clit, making you start to shake.

“Forty-one… oh, shit… okay, I’m…” you whisper, a wave of satisfaction prickling at your skin. He thrusts his fingers with more force, sucks harder, looking up at you as your mouth goes slack and your eyes squeeze shut.

Making a girl cum was always an ego thing to him. But he realizes that he loves making you orgasm simply because it means you feel good.

You unravel with a rippling rush through your body, fluttering around his fingers, bucking up against his face.

When you slowly come down from the climax, you pull your hips away from him.

“What number did you get to? Forty-one?” he teases. “What’d I tell you? Less than a minute.”

“So cocky,” you say, smiling and blissed out.

“Get on your back,” he orders, taking the condom out of his shorts before stripping the rest of his clothes off.

You settle on the hard boat floor, watching Rafe roll the condom on. You would’ve offered to put it on him, but he’s so rushed to dive into you.

You spread your legs and Rafe settles between them, pushing in with a quick thrust that makes you gasp.

He leans over to kiss you, swallowed by your slick warmth, letting you taste yourself on his lips. You tilt your pelvis up so he can get as deep inside of you as possible.

He pulls back and drives into you even harder, making you jolt from the force.

“Wrap your legs around me,” he orders you. You squeeze his taut torso with your legs, maintaining eye contact like he taught you. He’s gazing down at you, the starry sky shimmering behind him as he plunges in and out of you.

You’re so tight, so wet, so fucking perfect, that he doesn’t even want to cum, he just wants to feel the way you squeeze him.

His pace is fast, his eyes trailing over your face and committing the way you look when he’s fucking you to memory in case this is the last time.

The thought of losing this makes his skin burn.

Rafe’s palm presses at your neck, his fingers tightening around your jaw as he lowers himself and positions your head so that he can speak into your ear.

“You know he’s not gonna make you feel this good, right?” he mutters huskily. “He can’t eat your pussy like I can. He can’t fuck you like I can.”

This show of possession is just dirty talk, you tell yourself. But what if it isn’t?

Rafe props himself up again, gazing at you with his hand on your jaw as he thrusts in and out of you. How’s he supposed to be okay with someone taking you away from him?

You feel a cool drop of water on your arm. Then another on your cheek.

“Shit,” you gasp with a laugh. “I think it’s raining.”

He smiles while he looks down at you, enjoying the sound of your laugh.

“I don’t wanna stop,” he whispers. “Do you?”

You shake your head no and pull him closer so his warm cheek is pressed against yours. This is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. He’s filling you so nicely, both of you moaning and panting and laughing as the rain starts to come down harder.

You’re wrapped around him as he thrusts in and out of you hard and fast. The tension inside him finally snaps and he goes still before dissolving into pleasure, emptying himself into the condom.

He goes limp on top of you, panting against your neck. The rain is torrential and loud now, his back coated in water.

Rafe pulls out of you and you stand, laughing together as you rush to find your bathing suit top and bottom while he dresses himself, the wet clothes plastered to his skin.

You try to find shelter under the boat’s curved roof as Rafe starts the boat, watching him navigate and feeling your heart in your throat.

That didn’t feel like just fucking. The way he smiled at you was something else.

It’s late morning when you wake up, your friends still snoozing. You trudge downstairs and decide to enjoy the view of the lake that you didn’t get a chance to look at when you arrived yesterday.

You step out on the back porch, immediately thinking about how you snuck out with Rafe last night. And how you ran back inside, trying to be quiet, genuinely having fun with him. And everything in between.

You know it’s silly to overthink, but your mind replays what he said. You know he’s not gonna make you feel this good, right? He had to have been talking about Blake.

Was he jealous? The way he was smiling at you while he was inside you makes you think he does have a sweet side to him, that maybe he feels more than just lust for you.

You hear the door open behind you and turn to see Blake, adorably squinting from the sun.

“Early riser?” he gruffs, shutting the door behind him. You grin.

“You consider this early?” you say, checking your phone to see it’s almost 11:00. He chuckles.

Blake comes to stand beside you, leaning over the railing and looking at you with the same kind smile he was wearing last night in the hot tub.

“How’d you sleep?” he asks, his kind eyes softening with concern. “It wasn’t too cold?”

You bite the inside of your cheek, remembering how hot and flushed you were getting into bed after your time with Rafe last night. You wonder if he’ll tell Blake about your time together. And if Blake will care.

“No, I was fine,” you say.

“You sure you wanna leave today?” he asks, his tone sweet. The boys are going back to campus tomorrow, but you and your friends agreed to stay only until this afternoon.

“Yeah,” you say. “Don’t you bros have to bond or something?”

“Don’t tell them I said this, but I’ve bonded with them enough,” he jokes.

After everything you’ve learned about Blake over text and in person, you can tell he’s a good guy. You like the way he remembers things about you, the way he always looks at you like he missed you, the way he’s always polite to you.

Rafe walks into the empty kitchen and the first thing he sees is you and Blake through the window. You’re standing inches away from each other, leaning over the raised porch overlooking the lake.

His stomach turns when he sees you laugh at something Blake said.

“Dude, I’m fucking shattered,” one of his hungover buddies says, dragging his feet into the kitchen. Rafe thinks he is, too, and it’s not from drinking. He grabs some water and heads back upstairs to lie in bed.

You eventually go inside after Blake suggests making breakfast together. Your friends and a few frat guys are ambling around the main floor of the house as you make your way to the kitchen.

As you cook and talk, you find Blake takes every opportunity he can to innocently touch you in some way, unafraid to show you that he likes you. He’s affectionate, unlike Rafe, who stiffened the second you tried to hold his hand last night, who will only touch you right before or during sex.

After eating breakfast with Blake, your friends, and a few of the guys, you finally head upstairs to pack your things and head home.

You round the corner into the hallway and almost collide with another body. You look up to meet Rafe’s blue eyes, his expression sullen.

“Hey,” you say with a smile. “Wow, did you just wake up?”

“No,” he mutters. His lips thin as he steps to the side to walk past you, brushing you off.

You try not to let his moodiness get to you. It’s such a sharp contrast from how Blake treats you. You’re not expecting Rafe to be a sweetheart, but you thought at this point you sort of had a friendship.

You make your way to your room, reminding yourself of how he was the night you met. Rafe is a jerk, unless he’s working on convincing you to sleep with him.

Regardless, the sex is too good. You’ve actually been gaining confidence from hooking up with him. You tell yourself from now on to expect nothing but coldness from him.

Rafe tries to ignore the cloud hanging over his head after you leave the lakehouse. He hates that seeing you with Blake pissed him off so much. He hates that imagining Blake looking down at you the way Rafe did last night makes his blood boil.

A part of him wants to tell Blake you’re still hooking up to prove a point, but if Blake tells him that he did something with you, too, even a kiss, he might just swing at him.

Thankfully, Sam seems like he was too drunk to even remember Rafe asking for the key to the boat. He discreetly returns the key where Sam told him he could find it last night.

Rafe realizes he just needs to fuck another girl. He’s been messing around with you exclusively and that must be what’s been screwing with his mind. He scrolls through his phone and finds the number of a girl he met at a party during orientation week.

The next evening, you’re lying in bed watching a show on your laptop when you start to hear muffled moans. Your brows furrow as you try to make out what you’re hearing.

It’s a girl moaning. And it’s coming through the wall you and Rafe share.

Rafe’s on top of her in his bed, instructing her to be loud, not sure if it’s for his ego or just so you’ll hear. He did everything you taught him, touching her and talking to her how you said he should.

It’s all working and he can tell she’s close and it feels good, so why the fuck is he closing his eyes and imagining it’s you under him?

After she leaves, Rafe gives into the impulse to text you: my bad for the noise lol

You reply: all i can say is you’re welcome.

Rafe: ya you’re kind of a genius

You: i know :)

You try to focus on your tv show. Rafe said you’d keep your arrangement up until you’re both satisfied. He must be satisfied. Maybe the night on the boat was the last time.

You’ll miss it, but whatever. At least it’s ending before your mind has a chance to spiral any further into dangerous territory like it was this past weekend. That man has two settings designated for you: he’s either annoyed or horny. You’re convinced he feels nothing else.

The next day, it’s late afternoon when you get back to your dorm after your classes. As you get closer to your door, you can hear a man yelling. It’s loud. And vicious.

You sigh, wishing they didn’t cheap out on the insulation in this building.

You quickly realize it’s coming from Rafe’s room. Someone’s yelling and Rafe isn’t saying a single word back.

Rafe’s arms are crossed while his father shouts at him. He’s trying to hold it together, telling himself over and over again not to cry.

He got a little carried away with his credit card recently. He picked up the tab for food for his frat brothers quite a few times now. Splurged on beer. Had to pay to tank up his car for the weekend trip.

Apparently that makes him a disappointment who’s not taking school seriously. His father popped by for a surprise visit just to lay into him about his spending.

You quickly put your key in the lock and figure you should just put headphones on when you get in your room.

“Is that what I pay for, Rafe? For you to party? Do you even go to your classes?”

You swallow hard. It must be his dad. You don’t want to pry, but you’re surprised Rafe isn’t fighting back. The quick-tempered man you know always has a retort.

Maybe he hasn’t had as comfortable a life as you thought.

“If you can’t take it seriously-”

“I can,” Rafe finally says, his tone agitated but low. “I am taking it seriously.”

You swing open your door and step into your room, but when you hear his father say “what are you crying for?”, you feel your heart crack.

(part six)

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