#Magic always has a price | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jjunieworld · 2 months ago

Text

THE LIGHTHOUSE ˒˒ 박성훈 ▸ 𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗈 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗒𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲!

the land has always been something you desperately wished you could walk on. be like the humans and walk among them. one dark and stormy night, you are granted your wish—but, it comes with a deadly price. and you only have one month to decide if you’re willing to pay it.

pairing ⸝⸝ park sunghoon 𝑥 fem!reader 𓄵 𝓯eat. ꔛ 𝘯𝘰𝘯𝘦!

genre ⋆ 📓 ⸝⸝ strangers to lovers, angst, kinda love at first sight, smut, fluff, mermaid!reader, lighthouse keeper!sunghoon, magic, mermaid au, fantasy, early 1900s au inaccuracies, slow burn, slice of life, forced proximity, classic story of a mermaid washing up on shore with a twist, lighthouse / lighthouse keeper inaccuracies, the little mermaid references, slight smidge of horror elements

warnings ⸝⸝ death / themes of death, descriptions of harsh sea waves and storms, mentions and depictions of loneliness, reader has a lot of mermaid attributes, reader is new to the human world, unprotected sex, soft dom!sunghoon, sub / dom dynamics, a lot of skinship (they’re touch deprived) , really soft and desperate sex, a lot of yearning (sunghoon is always popping a boner), petnames (baby, darling, sweetheart, my pearl), clit stimulation, fingering, brief nipple play, creampie, riding, some aftercare (on & off page)

kipo’s note ⸝⸝ listen to the playlist (in song order) here!! hehe i spent wayy too much time on it.. (╯ ◡ ╰ “) i also spent too much time going into a deep dive on lighthouses and lighthouse keepers and how they worked back in the day,,, i hope that you enjoy!! ^^

͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏͏ ͏ ❨ 16k ❩ ╱ ❨ 𝓶.list ❩ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ︵͡ 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (⌒‿⌒)♡

you knew that traveling to the surface was forbidden, but you couldn’t help the way that it called to you deep in the depths of the sea. like a moth to a flame, you swam and swam until you could feel the bright sun on your wet skin. until you could hear the sound of the waves crashing onto the nearby rocks and the distant chatter of the village nearby.

it filled you with such profound longing and want that the only thing that helped ease the feeling was to watch the way the landwalkers went about their days. you watched as giggling landwalking guppies darted from place to place and under their parent’s legs. as people shouted to passersby about the wares they were selling and people walking arm in arm.

you made sure you were always carefully hidden behind some rocks so that you weren’t seen and that your dark blue shifting tail blended nicely with the water. still, you watched and watched for what seemed like hours.

you wondered what it felt like to be able to walk on land, to feel the rocky surface beneath your feet. does it hurt? how does one stay upright? is land walking to the landwalkers the same as swimming to the merfolk? these were all questions you desperately wanted to know the answers to.

swimming away from the village’s edge, you waded through the fog along the ocean’s surface. you were just about to dive when a flickering light in the distance caught your eye. cautiously, you decided to see what it was.

landwalker’s buildings were already tall as it is, but this one was completely different. it pierced through the sky with a beacon of light shining from the top—almost like a second sun being held up. your eyes widened as you drew closer, ducking behind some rocks as you surveyed the area.

it was on a small island of it’s own, not too far away from the island the village sat on, but far enough that you’d have to swim for a short while to get from island to island. the building was white and a deep red color like coral on the seafloor. you stared in amazement at it, climbing up onto the rock to get a better look. a tiny building was attached to the bottom of it that looked like it had seen much better days. it was beautiful, you’ve never seen anything quite like it.

movement in your peripheral had your head snapping in it’s direction. the door of the small attached building swung open and a man carrying a box stepped out of it, the hat he was wearing nearly slipping off of his head and exposing his dark locks of hair. you ducked down on the rock a little, making sure that you were covered by the fog. he sat the box down near the entrance of the building just as a loud sound had you jumping out of your skin.

it was a deep, almost guttural sound. you tried to look for the source of it and saw that it came from the large horn near the small building. birds flew from their perches to a quieter place and you slid off of the rock, drawing nearer to the shore.

your father’s warnings rang deep inside you, yet you tried to push his words down. don’t go near the surface, my child. the dangerous landwalkers will lure you in and capture you so that you are never seen ever again. they cannot be trusted.

you hid behind some more rocks and watched him work. he kept disappearing into the small building and if you looked up, you could almost see him between the flickering light. if he wasn’t inside, he was out tidying the area around where he worked—stacking and fixing various things. occasionally, he would also look out to the sea, seemingly monitoring the waves and the fog before scribbling something down in what you think was called a book. when he did, you sunk down into the water until only your eyes and the top of your head was above the surface.

what interested you the most was how the man seemed to be alone. why was he so far away from the rest of the landwalkers? what made him different? what was this building that he was working on? you had so many question and so little answers—and nobody to ask.

you couldn’t tell any of your people that you watched the landwalkers daily. you would get into an enormous amount of trouble and would never be able to see the surface again.

instead, day after day, you watched the man work—no longer so curious about the ventures of the village landwalkers. the more you watched him work, muscles straining against his rolled up sleeves and brows furrowed, the more you noticed him. he was very handsome in a landwalker sort of way, the most beautiful out of them you’ve seen so far. you wondered if he had a life outside of this building on the shore. perhaps it was back in the small house a short walk away from the shore? was his whole life on this tiny island?

dusk fell and a cold breeze swept up the shore from the waters. you had spent the whole day again watching the man work at what you now knew was called a lighthouse. he was wiping the attached building of the lighthouse down after the recent rainstorm, frustratingly muttering under his breath.

you noticed that he didn’t talk much, only a simple, quiet word here or there. at first, you thought he couldn’t speak, until now.

“shit!” he hissed as he threw the rag down onto the ground. the paint was starting to peel off the siding on the building from the harsh winds and water. “now i’m gonna have to paint this whole building again.”

you giggled at his reaction. it must’ve been too loudly because his head snapped in your direction and you quickly sunk down behind the rocks. this was dangerous, you knew that, and it already seemed that you were getting too comfortable being out in the open. yet, you giggled to yourself more, more quietly this time as bubbles rippled up from the water. the man’s brows furrowed but he shook his head a little. “come on, sunghoon. don’t start losing it now,” he murmured.

sunghoon, that was his name. you surfaced from the water a little and tried his time on your tongue. “sung… hoon…” you spoke softly before smiling. “pretty.”

the light at the top of the lighthouse burned brightly against the darkening sky, signaling that it was past the time for you to start swimming home. you turned and began swimming away from the shore, starting your journey.

something sat heavily in the pit of your stomach and it was beginning to weigh you down. it was that same longing and want, this time more pronounced and refusing to be swallowed and digested. you stopped swimming and stared up at the bright, almost full moon in the sky.

you would give anything to walk on land. to experience life as a landwalker does and be on land. you didn’t want to be confined to the sea anymore. you didn’t want to have a tail anymore—you wanted legs. you wanted to be a landwalker, not a mermaid.

your heart racing, an old story your father once told you interrupted your thoughts. the story of a young mermaid trading her tail for landwalker’s legs.

it was supposed to be a cautionary tale, one to ward off small merfolk from intermingling with the landwalkers, but to you, it was an answer—one you were desperate for. the tale talked about how the mermaid visited a sea witch deep down in a cave at the bottom of the ocean and begged her to change her tail for legs.

the witch and her struck a deal: the mermaid was to sacrifice four of her pearlescent scales in exchange for a week on land. during said week, the mermaid had to find the witch various hard-to-find ingredients and bring it back to her by the end of it. if she didn’t fulfill her end of the deal after the week was up, her tail would come back and she would never be able to have legs again. only, swimming would not be as easy or as painless as it once was.

you made your decision. you were going to find the sea witch and strike a deal with her the same way the mermaid from the story did. what were a few scales and ingredients when you could finally walk on land? finally have your dreams become reality?

your next course of action was to find out information on where the sea witch’s cave could be.

instead of spending your time up at the surface, you instead kept beneath the water. you asked your family and friends about the sea witch in subtle ways, blaming your questions on your curiosity and love of storytelling. as days passed, the information you were provided pushed you more and into the direction you were hoping for.

it felt weird to be amongst your people again. you were so busy vicariously living with the landwalkers that you forgot how different interactions between merfolk and landwalkers were. instead of walking or running, it was swimming and tail flapping. instead of giggles, it was a flurry of bubbles and muted speech. merfolk swam with their tails on top of one another and their arms intertwined ahead of them. strangely, you felt out of place. everything felt so different.

you were going over the information you had gathered when suddenly the pieces all fit together. you twirled in excitement—the sea witch… you finally found her! you were going to have your legs that you’ve spent so many nights dreaming of, and you didn’t want to waste anymore time.

as the light rays dwindled, you quickly swam towards the location, sneaking past any merfolk who were still out of their seaweed beds. deep, deep down you swam and swam until you could barely see ahead of you. that was, until a sparkling light appeared and guided you—the witch’s torch.

you darted towards it, a nervous excitement bubbling inside of you as you drew closer and closer. when you reached it, a large opening with more sparkling lights beckoned you inside and you hesitantly followed them one by one.

the swim felt like it lasted an eternity as you twisted and turned until you saw a bright light that almost blinded you at first look. you swam towards it and surfaced from the water inside a decent sized pool in what looked like a rocky hut.

“ah, a visitor!” a voice said and you swung around. a woman—a landwalking woman—was in front of a shelf of various trinkets and knick knacks next to a table full of jars of spices and herbs. she turned towards where you surfaced with a bright smile that was all teeth. her dark, shadowed eyes widened and a chill ran down your spine all the way to the fin at the end of your tail. you could feel the waves of power radiating off of her, and it made your heart beat faster in a twisted excitement.

she was real. the sea witch was real.

she walked towards the pool you were in, “don’t get too many of those anymore, especially from the depths. must be all the stories your people tell of me.” she chortled and you tilted your head in confusion before realizing that she had made a joke a second too late. the witch waved her hand in the air at your silence, “i kid, i kid.”

pushing away from the shelf, the witch stepped towards you. her tattered dress was ripped at multiple points at the bottom so pieces of fabric hung from it and dragged along the stone floor. when she moved, the shells, sticks, and pearls she wore clacked together in an alluring harmony. she bend down at the edge of the pool so she was eye level with you, her messy hair fanning around her face.

“what deal did you come to make, little mermaid?” she asked, her eyes still wide and her smile still teeth.

you waded backwards in the water slightly, but stood your ground. you swallowed, willing your voice to speak. “legs…” you trailed softly before licking your lips. “legs,” you said, louder and with more confidence, “i want to trade my tail for legs. i wish to walk on land like the landwalkers do—be a landwalker like them.”

“legs,” the witch drawled out before tsking as she turned away from you in a large, dramatic motion. you grabbed a stone bowl from the top of one of her shelves, picking here and there at spices and herbs and trinkets as she moved about the room. “always the legs,” she continued.

your brows furrowed in worry. what if she didn’t accept your deal? what if she was too tired of giving foolish mermaids like you legs to walk on land with and denied your wish?

the witch suddenly turned towards you and you jumped. “as i’m sure you know, everything always comes with a price—and this is mine. i will accept your offer, but in return you must do something for me as well.” you nodded furiously, “y-yes! anything… i’ll do anything!”

the sea witch smiled and it lacked all of the playfulness she previously possessed. instead, it was almost cold, like she had flipped a fin.

“in one month's time, you must cut out the beating heart of the human you love the most and bring it to me.” the sea witch slowly leaned away from you, her eyes remaining on yours. “if you don’t fulfill your end of the deal, you will never walk on land again and you will never swim in the recesses of the ocean again. you will instead turn to seafoam and be nevermore. that is your price, guppy.”

your eyes widened in shock and in fear. “b-but, in the story—” the witch swiftly interrupted you, her voice harsh and grating. she leaned down to you again so fast you had no time to process it. her teeth were sharp and her eyes were almost fully black. “in the ‘story’ i gave that halfwitted thing a single day and every step she took felt like standing upon urchins. be grateful, girl, that i’m showing you kindness. now what will it be, do you accept?”

the clacking of her jewelry sounded like a ticking clock, urging you to answer quickly. “i accept!” you blurted. your eyes widened further and you gasped softly at your words. the sea witch’s sharp smile grew.

she got in the water and hooked her arms under yours and dragged you towards the stone floor. “yes, child!” she shouted and smoke rose all around you out of the bubbling cauldron you suddenly noticed. “a deal has been made—one you will die for to break! there’s no turning back!” she cackled loudly and she dragged you fully onto the ground, dropping you unceremoniously. you sat up, fear flooding your entire body as you froze.

“there’s no turning back! there’s no turning back! a debt to be made. the beating heart shall be mine! for all you have sacrificed will be paid!” the witch shouted, cackling to herself.

the room grew dark and the light from the cauldron shimmered off of your deep blue scales. before you could do much else, the sea witch plucked four scales from your tail and you hissed out in pain. she dropped them into the cauldron along with the trinkets and such from the stone bowl, mixing them all together with a hearty laugh.

you began to rise in the air and your tail started to tingle before becoming so unbearably hot. you screamed out in pain as the smoke clouded around you and left you blind to the rest of the room. from beyond the fog, you heard the witch shout, “tonight, a vicious storm will brew and take you on your journey. a month from now the same storm will return, with or without you.”

you could barely hear her between your screams. one by one, you scales started to be ripped from your tail, withering away into nothingness. the more you writhed in pain, the more it felt like your tail was being split in two. you rose further into the air and noticed the suspended pool of water hanging above you. suddenly, you couldn’t breathe. like your gills closed and you were suffocating. the top of your head rose into the water and despite not being able to breathe, you screamed—a shrill sound full of unabashed fear.

from the distance, you heard the sea witch’s voice again. this time she wasn’t shouting, but instead chuckling in satisfaction. she continued, “either way, i’ll have a heart.”

as you entered the water, you were whooshed into a current that helped you breathe again. you gasped in large breaths as you spun around disoriented. the pain you felt was unimaginable. your tail felt as if someone was ripping a leg off a starfish. except, instead of growing back the same, it was growing something else entirely. more scales ripped and withered off of you as your tail split.

you tried to think about the future. of how worth it this will all be in the end when you have your legs and you finally walk on land, living amongst the landwalkers—or humans, as the sea witch interestingly called them.

but, a thought prodded at your mind. the bargain you made and the heart you will have to bring back.

you didn’t think you could do it—didn’t have the stomach to cut out someone’s heart, but you had no choice. not anymore. who’s heart will you cut out? will you find some unsuspecting victim and force yourself to love them until you actually do so in the end you can rip out the heart they entrusted you with? it was all so wrong. what have you done?

the current led you to the sea’s surface and in the heart of the most vicious storm you’ve ever seen. waves crashed against you and pummeled you back down under the surface, yet each time you emerged again and again. harsh, stinging winds slashed across your skin, yet you remained unharmed. you hoarsely yelled out in pain and looked down at the beautiful blue tail you once had, the scales a myriad of shades. you didn’t even recognize it anymore.

instead what you saw was a half tail, half pair of legs monstrosity. it perfectly described where you were at this current moment—between the waves of the watery life you had been stripped from and being pushed forward to the dry land of the life you will come to know. in the distance you heard that loud, guttural sound that you recognized so well. you turned and saw the beacon of fluttering light emitting from the lighthouse standing tall against the storm.

a dark thought polluted your mind. you weren’t expecting to be spitted out so close to the village. you mind traveled to the man working the lighthouse as you fought against the waves to breath the cold air.

what if it was his heart you cut out?

no… you didn’t want to think that. didn’t want that thought to be true. anybody, but him. anybody, but sunghoon. you’ve grown too fond of him during the times you watched over him—you can’t let his already seemingly lonely life be cut short by getting his heart ripped out. you wouldn’t allow yourself to do that to him.

the tormenting waves seemed to have other plans for you. they took you directly towards the shore where the lighthouse sat and you started to cry.

shock jolted you as you felt wetness roll down your cheeks just as the rain started to pound down harder from a light splash. you touched your cheeks with trembling hands. the change was all too much too fast. you weren’t expecting it to be this way.

when you heard the story of the mermaid trading her tail for legs it was nothing like this. she emerged from the water like a graceful swan, a beautiful sunset behind her that reflected off the calm sea. you couldn’t help but feel betrayed by the lies you were told.

you didn’t feel graceful, you felt forsaken. this was a journey of death, not rebirth.

the closer you got to the shore, the more regret started to pierce deep inside you. it didn’t help that the storm clouds seemed to break so the moon’s light could illuminate just you. it all felt so unfair. all you wanted to do was walk on land, why must you endure all this? why must you love someone deeply only to rip their heart out? and why were the sea witch's waves so hellbent on that person being sunghoon?

why did excitement still flood in the pit of your belly at the thought of the life you may live after?

a second, smaller light flickered on at the tiny island you were heading for and you knew it was him. you watched as the small light raced towards the shore almost as fast as you were being pushed to it. the two of you were heading towards a deadly collision and you weren’t ready for it.

the waves spitted you out and you washed up onto the sand of the shore. you felt weak and dizzy and something else entirely that you couldn’t name or figure out. your stomach rumbled like the thunder and your head ached. you raised your head as much as you could and looked down at your new body. you were in so much pain that you almost felt numb.

sniffling a little, a laugh spilled from your lips and the corners of your mouth pulled upwards. you have legs. they may be painful at the moment and slightly numb, but you finally had them. you felt every grain against them and dug your legs further into the sand. the last remaining scales of your former life surrounded you like glittering rocks, you were surprised that they hadn’t withered away like the rest of them.

you looked up at the full moon, glowing and huge. like a pearl in the sky. you smiled wider before inhaling deeply. you felt brand new. maybe the whole journey was worth it in the end. a wave of sleep hit you and you struggled to keep your eyes open.

just as your eyes began to close fully, a warm light draped over your body. sunghoon’s worried face appeared in your view just as another wave of sleep overcame you, the ghost of a smile on your face.

as you drifted off into the unknown, the claws of regret sank into you again and it’s almost as if you could hear the sea witch’s cruel cackling. you can’t rip out his heart—you just couldn’t. you wouldn’t. because, unbeknownst to you, that fondness you held so deeply for him was already blossoming into something more. something dangerous.

it was a strange day, indeed, for sunghoon.

more of a strange week, actually. firstly, his assistant keeper was nowhere to be found, so he was on the small island all alone; manning all of the work and upkeep of the lighthouse on his own. as he went on about his days, sunghoon constantly felt watched—he even swore he heard a woman’s laugh before, saw the apparition of her along the shore, but it was just him. maybe it was finally his time to go mad like so many other lighthouse keepers.

now a vicious storm appearing out of nowhere? after his logs over the week have only shown mostly clear skies? it was all very strange to him.

even stranger was what sunghoon saw in the storm as he scanned the waters for any possible boats or ships. a woman, illuminated by a beam of moonlight, fighting against the waves and crashing upon his shore like some holy being. the storm came so fast he barely had time to get from his bed and light his oil lantern to go out and try to assist her.

that where sunghoon was now, holding his lantern over your bare body as he worriedly looked over you for any injuries. you seemed completely unharmed, surrounded by shifting blue scales with pearls in your hair. with skin slightly tinted blue and with slightly webbed hands, you almost looked… human—but, more ethereal and beautiful than anything sunghoon has ever seen in his entire life. you were prettier than any gibson girl appearance the women of the village sported.

realizing that he was gazing upon a woman’s naked body who he didn’t know, sunghoon quickly sat his lantern down in the sand as he shrugged off his wet coat. he laid it over you before hooking his arms under your legs and back to carry you back to safety in his quarters, making sure to grab his lantern to light his way back through the dark.

the closer to his small house and the further away from the shore he got, the storm simmered until he was at his front door and the skies and sea were almost calm again. very strange, sunghoon thought.

sunghoon laid you down gently onto his couch and replaced his coat for one of the thick blankets strewn across the back of the couch. you were completely out cold, and probably would be for a while. sunghoon shook his head in wonder as he stared down at you, “what happened to you? how did you manage to get caught naked and alone in the middle of a storm?”

his questions would have to wait for later. sunghoon rushed back outside and to the lighthouse. he climbed up the narrow winding staircase to the top and ensured that the lamp was still burning. after adjusting the flame, everything was back in order and the mechanism was spinning efficiently.

sunghoon sighed as he exited the lighthouse. thankfully, he wouldn’t have to do much cleaning up after the sudden storm. after logging everything that happened, sunghoon ventured back down to the shore—back to where he found you.

in the sand, he picked up some of the blue scales that had surrounded you and inspected them. they were somewhat transparent and flexible. when sunghoon held them out to the light, they shifted from a dark blue to a deep teal color. it only left him with more questions, but he pocketed them to ask you about later.

a yawn was ripped from his mouth and he looked out at the moon. if his calculations were correct, he still had a couple of hours until he had to be up again for the day. heading back to the small house near the lighthouse, sunghoon decided to go back to sleep until either it was time for him to wake up, or you awoke. there was no point in staying awake if everything outside was calm with no signs of changing and you were asleep.

sunghoon quickly ran upstairs and changed his wet clothes for dryer ones, making sure to bring some down for you to wear when you woke up. he sunk down into the armchair next to the couch, running his hands through his damp hair. sunghoon glanced over to you, sleeping peacefully, with a sigh. he just hoped that nothing else strange occurred.

he got as comfortable as he could on the armchair and yawned once again. sunghoon closed his eyes and let himself drift off to sleep.

you awoke inside a simply adorned house that you didn’t recognize. memories rushed towards the forefront of your mind and you recalled the events you just went through. the sea witch, your new—and no longer painful—legs, the storm, and sunghoon’s worried face. you slowly sat up and the fabric across your body fell off your shoulders and pooled in your lap.

you turned towards the window and looked out at the sky. it was still rather dark outside, but you could tell that dawn was not too far away. the light atop of the lighthouse still flickered like a beacon in the sky and there were no remnants of whatever storm brought you here.

the surface, you were finally on it. a smile grew on your face and you turned your attention back to your new legs, flipping the fabric off of you completely to gaze upon them.

they were absolutely glorious. you giggled a little as you wiggled the tiny fingers at the end of them. they felt unusual, but you supposed you would eventually get used to the feeling. another thought popped into your head, loud and demanding—sunghoon.

he was asleep in the chair next to you, uncomfortably twisted in it. you tilted your head as you looked at him. finally, you were getting a close look at a landwalker—human. you stood on your new legs, shaking and using the couch to stabilize you. you took a shaky step towards him, and another until you were basically hovering over him.

how fascinating, humans. they didn’t have any gills like merfolk did, nor the tinged blue-ish skin or tail. and from what you could tell their ears didn’t have any attached fins on them either. you touched your own ears, astonished at how different they felt before holding out your hand. they were still slightly webbed, but not nearly like how they used to be. it was all so… new.

your skin was soft and warm rather than cold, wet and almost slick. sunghoon’s hair also didn't sprawl out around him like yours did when you were underwater. instead, it covered his eyes in a dark curtain, resting softly across his cheeks.

you reached out your hand and brushed the hair away to see sunghoon’s closed eyes, fingers brushing lightly across his skin. he really was beautiful. your brows knitted together as the tips of your fingers dragged down his cheek. did all humans look like him?

sunghoon’s eyes cracked open and you gasped softly, pulling your hand away. you took a wobbly step back. you nearly fell onto the table if it hasn’t been for sunghoon quickly reaching out and grabbing your waist to steady you. you both looked at each other with wide eyes and complete silence. sunghoon’s eyes trailed your body and his eyes widened even more before he swiftly removed his hands from your waist and turned his head to the side, blinking rapidly.

“t-there’s clothes on the table for you…” sunghoon trailed, the sleep still in his voice, as he shifted in the armchair uncomfortably. his eyes darted to yours before looking away again.

you gave him a confused look before turning to the table. you held up the “clothes” he was talking about in front of you. you turned back to him with a puzzled look. “what… is it?” you asked. you stuck your arm through one of its various holes, confused on what you were to do with it.

sunghoon shifted in the seat more as he dragged his gaze to you. he took the pillow from behind him and pressed it down in his lap. “uh… i-it’s a shirt,” he stuttered, just as confused as you were. “you wear it?”

you lowered the shirt so you could look at him and sunghoon looked at the ceiling. “wear it?” you repeated. what is a “shirt” and how does one “wear it?” there was so much about a human’s life that you didn’t know. it made you excited to learn about it all.

sunghoon cleared his throat and his brows drew together more, like he didn’t understand how you didn’t understand what he was talking about. suddenly, realization dawned on his features and he slowly looked down from this ceiling so his eyes connected with yours. “yeah,” he said slowly. you could see the geysers blowing in his head the more he stared at you, his eyes shifting along your face and your hair. he glanced towards the door before settling on you. “have you seen them before?” he suddenly asked.

“from afar on humans, but never this close! we don’t wear things such as this. it’s soft,” you smiled. you then gasped, covering your mouth with your hand. you didn’t think it was wise to let him know that you were—or, use to be—a mermaid. your father’s words came to mind again, but, as you stared at sunghoon with wide eyes, it didn't look like he was dangerous.

after all, he did rescue you from the storm and gave you shelter. he is even giving you some of his clothes, even if you didn’t know what to do with them or how to wear them. maybe you could trust him with your secret before going off to the village in hopes of finding someone to fall in love with. treat it as a farewell before you leave him to ensure your fondness didn’t grow any further.

a smile grew on sunghoon’s face and as you stared at each other for another moment, you could see him put all the pieces together himself. “well, us humans usually wear a shirt like this,” he started, motioning down to the shirt that covered his chest. “and trousers to cover our lower half. you’re, uh, naked… right now.”

your brows raised in shock. naked? how were you naked? most of your pearls were still in your hair and your hair was relatively decent still. you were completely dressed.

sunghoon slowly stood. he grabbed the shirt from you and held it in between your bodies. “i’m not sure how things work where you’re from… but here, let me help you…” he lifted the shirt and pulled it over your head through one of the holes. “your arms go through the other two,” sunghoon murmured awkwardly.

he then very awkwardly guided you through putting on the pants and you quickly learned about balance and its importance.

“thank you,” you said sincerely as you smiled at him. sunghoon sheepishly smiled back, rubbing the back of his neck. “but, i must ask one last thing of you. the village… it’s dire that i get there as fast as possible.”

sunghoon’s smile dropped. you leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. then, you started to make your way to the door, a lot less wobbly. the kiss was risky, but you couldn’t help yourself. sunghoon raced towards you, his arms out. “wait!” he called out.

he held you in place by your shoulders to stop you from leaving. “you can’t leave—not without someone guiding you, and i can’t leave the lighthouse. the villagers… they’ll eat someone like you alive down there. it’s not safe.” you could tell sunghoon wasn’t joking by the serious expression on his face.

what were you supposed to do now? “someone like me?” you asked.

sunghoon gave you an almost incredulous look. “you arrived in a storm completely unharmed and alive. when i found you, you were surrounded by scales and you wear pearls in your hair…” he trailed off, like the answer was blatantly obvious. “the villagers don’t believe, but spending time here, alone, at this lighthouse will at the very least have you questioning.”

your shoulders sagged. at least you didn’t have to hide what you were from him anymore—not that you were doing a good job of it anyway. “b-but… i have to go to the village!” you exclaimed.

“listen, why don’t you stay here for a while? i’ll teach you everything you need to know—human to mermaid—and after, you can go on your merry way and live amongst us on your own!” sunghoon said.

“you don’t understand.” you slumped down on the couch, crossing your arms. “it’s not safe for you, and i don’t have that amount of time.”

sunghoon quirked a brow, chuckling, “what? are you gonna eat me or something?” you stayed silent. he sat down on the couch next to you, “if you were, you would’ve done so on the shore or while i was sleeping. i promise that no angry mob is gonna come rowing here after you, you don’t have to worry. and, i’ll teach you everything as fast as i can.”

you sighed defeatedly. you just hoped it was fast enough for you to still find someone else. it couldn’t be sunghoon who’s heart you ripped out. “okay,” you murmured.

sunghoon smiled brightly at you. “now, what’s your name, darling?”

“y/n,” you replied a bit hesitantly.

“i’m sunghoon, here at your service!” you laughed and he joined in with you. you almost wanted to tell him that you already knew, that you’ve been watching him, but you decided against it. it was best that he didn’t know. “sunghoon,” you repeated instead, like you haven’t already said it before, “that’s very pretty.”

“a compliment, coming from a pretty woman like you? well, it must be! thank you kindly, miss!” he smiled playfully and you rolled your eyes. there was a pang in your chest and you inhaled. thankfully it was covered by a loud growl, causing you to furrow your brows.

sunghoon’s face lit up in realization again. “ah, right. you must be hungry. let me fetch you something to eat.”

it’s been about a week since you landed in sunghoon’s care and time was ticking down. you tried to not think about how much time you had left, instead distracting yourself by helping sunghoon around the lighthouse, but it was near impossible. it didn’t help that since the two of you were alone on the island together, you both had no choice but to be in each other’s presence and get to know each other.

sunghoon has taught you a lot about humans throughout the week you’ve been here and in turn you’ve told him how things worked under the water. the two of you were fascinated by each other’s stories and that, in turn, only brought you both even closer.

the day was clear, and as sunghoon said, “it holds no signs of changing.”

“what do you say we row over to the village? get you some proper clothes?” sunghoon asked. “i don’t think you want to keep wearing mine.” he paused from the siding he was painting to look over to you.

you halted the paintbrush you were holding, looking at his clothes that you wore. “what? do they not look good on me?” you giggled.

sunghoon’s eyes widen, almost like something clicked in his head, but a smile grew on his face. he said nothing for a moment, just stared at you with a fond smile. “of course they look good on you,” he said.

you looked away, hiding your face, as you continued painting. “that would be nice,” you murmured, before speaking a little louder. “it would be nice to see the village.”

not soon after that, the two of you were climbing up the dock at the village together. you stuck near sunghoon’s side, suddenly overwhelmed by the busy life of the villagers. as you walked through the streets, you couldn’t help but notice all their stares—their dirty looks. you pressed more into sunghoon’s side and he wrapped his arm around your waist.

“a man’s clothes!” you heard the village women mutter amongst each other. “and her hair…”

you now knew what sunghoon meant when he said the village would eat you alive. you didn’t look how the village women looked and the difference was drastic and obvious. none of them had pearls intricately wrapped in strands of their hair or even had their hair down. their hair were all put up, with flowing skirts and modest blouses or fitted dresses that showed the curve of their hips that didn’t match the buttoned up untucked men’s shirt and trousers you wore. it was all so overwhelming.

by the time you reached the tailors, you were practically clutching on to sunghoon’s side. when you entered, every eye was on you. a human woman—who you assumed was the owner of the shop—rushed towards you. “oh, you poor thing! let me fix you up!” she cooed as she pulled you away from sunghoon’s grasp.

you looked back at him with wide, fearful eyes. “it’ll be okay,” he assured you, grabbing your hand. “i’ll be right here waiting for you.”

“this will take a while,” the woman said to him, before glancing at you. at least she didn’t look at you like the other women did. it was more with pity than disgust. sunghoon nodded, sitting in one of the chairs with his hat clutched in his hands. you didn’t turn away from him until your view of him was physically cut off by the curtain the woman pulled in front of your face and he didn’t look away either.

suddenly the woman had you out of sunghoon’s clothes and in long skirts and blouses. she had you try on various ones to gauge your size, along with pulling out what she called “measuring tape.”

once you had on an outfit she was satisfied with, her fingers hovered over the pearls in your hair, a look you couldn’t name in her eyes. “pearls are very beautiful? don’t you agree?” she asked as she turned to look at your face. you nodded, still a bit uncomfortable, as you cast your gaze downwards to the floor.

“all that hardship for beauty… for a simple creation,” the woman said. “i was just like you once, little guppy.” your gaze snapped to her’s in shock as her eyes stared at the pearls in your hair.

the woman continued, and you saw the sadness in her eyes. she nodded her head towards the curtain, “that man out there, he found you, didn’t he?” you opened your mouth to speak but no words came out, so you just nodded. “he’s already swimming down deep for you,” she said, “it gets easier, dear. when it’s all over, you come and find me, you hear?”

she said nothing else—nothing else about the fact that you both crawled from the deep in hopes of a new life. nothing about how she must’ve had to sacrifice the one she loved most in order to be standing in front of you right now. nothing about if it was worth it or not—and you so desperately needed to know.

instead, she carefully untangled the pearls from your windswept hair and worked them into the up-do she styled your hair in. as she worked around you, you noticed the single pearl in her own hair, and your heart broke in two.

once she was done and the curtain was opened, you all but ran back to where sunghoon still sat, just like he said he would. as you approached, he stood to his feet as he looked over you. his eyes were wide and his mouth hung open. the woman giggled, winking at you, before leaving the two of you alone.

“better?” you asked him, glancing down at the new clothes you wore.

“you were already beautiful,” sunghoon replied, a bit breathlessly and flustered. you smiled and felt as your face started to heat up rapidly. his ears were a flaming red that made you giggle a little. sunghoon cleared his throat, blinking, “b-but, it’s a good hu—good look on you. do you like it?”

you thought it over for a moment, “there’s aspects of it that i like, some that i don’t.” you liked how intricate it all looked, a lot of it reminded you of the seabed. along with the colors—it looked like you wore a coral reef with the most beautiful and shimmering fish in it. you weren’t sure about how fitted it all felt, but you were sure you would get used to it. it bummed you that your hair was put up, but at least you kept your pearls.

“well, you can wear it all however you like when we’re back on the island, sweetheart,” sunghoon said, stepping towards you. he took your hands in his and smiled at you.

when the two of you walked back through the village, you still felt eyes on you—more snickers and muttering. on the row home you were quiet, which sunghoon noticed. in the house, he saw how the sadness twisted your features.

he guided you towards the couch, his brows drawn together in worry. “i’m sorry,” he said softly, his voice low. sunghoon watched helplessly as the tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at him before sliding down your cheeks. you touched your fingers to the wetness, confused.

“what is this?” you asked him.

“tears,” sunghoon replied. “they happen when you feel an emotion deeply—like sadness.” more tears fell down your cheeks and you buried your face in his chest. sunghoon wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly.

after a few moments, you peeked your head out and looked at him with big, teary eyes. your eyes darted down to sunghoon’s lips before looking back up at him, your brows furrowing like you were in inner turmoil. slowly, you leaned up and softly pressed your lips to his.

sunghoon’s own eyebrows raised in slight shock. you pulled away the slightest bit, your lips still hovering near his like you were frozen. for a second, sunghoon was too. he then chases your lips, kissing you again.

you lips work in perfect harmony together as you kiss each other. like the past week has been building to this moment and it’s finally here and it’s perfect. his lips felt perfect on yours and yours on his. it was as if they were made for each other and you never wanted to spend another moment not kissing sunghoon.

his hand cupped your face and you sat up more, nearly in his lap, as the kiss deepened. you kissed each other like you were desperate. like the waves were crashing around you—and they were. the time you had left flashed in your mind and you ran your hands through his hair to distract yourself from the thoughts and instead focus on him—only sunghoon.

sunghoon’s hat fell to the side somewhere on the couch and his other hand slid down to rest on your waist. you kissed each other like you didn’t need air, or water, or anything. just each other. but you did, and you pulled away as heavy breathing overtook the both of you. not far, but enough so that you lips had the slightest distance from his. your thoughts came back full force, the sand in your hourglass falling and the sea witch’s cackling.

you shook your head a little, eyes still closed. “w-we can’t… this is too dangerous,” you trailed off in a soft and low voice, your eyes fluttering open and meeting his.

“i don’t understand…” sunghoon whispered. “what is so dangerous about it?” the pads of his thumbs wiped away freshly fallen tears. you shook your head again, pulling away from him fully and sitting properly back on the couch. sunghoon sat up straighter and placed his dropped hat in his lap.

you wrapped your arms around yourself. you looked out the window towards the calm sea and felt yourself break. it was already too late. you’ve reached the point of no return, and if you continued down the path you were going with sunghoon, there would be no going back.

“this won’t end well,” you told him, “and we’ll both end up getting hurt.”

you felt his fingers gently turn your face towards his. his face was inches from yours and he pulled you closer to him as you sniffled, wrapping his arms around you in comfort once again.

“and what if i like the pain—the danger?” sunghoon asked you quietly. “what if i want to get hurt by you?”

you shook your head once again and turned your head away from him. “you don’t,” you replied. he didn’t know what he was asking, and you knew someday soon you would have to tell him. he turned you towards him again, nodding. “i do,” sunghoon said.

his lips met yours again and you could feel the harsh winds whip around the two of you. the tides bent and broke and turned. you were both caught in a riptide and there was no escaping. your fates were already put in motion.

you were a fool to think you could stop it. you kissed sunghoon back with so much passion and wanting that you were sure it would knock the two of you right over. instead, he kept you stable, kept both of your heads above the water as you got pushed by the tall waves hand in hand. sunghoon kissed you back just as feverishly.

from the second you saw him through the fog you knew that your souls would be intertwined. you knew that you would fall in love with him—there was so stopping it, and you couldn’t no matter how hard you tried.

but then you thought of his bloody, beating heart in your cold hands. his lifeless eyes staring up at you. you had to fight against your rippling love for him, there was no other option. you didn’t want the sea witch to have his pure heart, she didn’t deserve it. and you felt like you didn’t deserve it either.

but the anchor has already been dropped into the water, and by the time you hurriedly pull it back up it would already be too late.

so you kept kissing him. you let everything you felt for him speak for itself through your moving lips on his and hoped that it was enough. you hoped that sunghoon understood it all—hoped that once he found out the truth that he would forgive you for keeping it from him. you hoped that his feelings for you would change.

the woman’s words from earlier seeped between your thoughts. “he’s already swimming down deep for you.” you didn’t think it could get easier. at the end of the time you had, when it was either you or sunghoon, you were choosing him. you just hoped that, in time, it would get easier for him.

it’s been a little over a week since you and sunghoon shared a kiss that shifted everything between the two of you. you tried hard to fight against your rapidly growing love for him, but it seemed like sunghoon fought against you every step of the way. whether it was fleeting but charged touches, longing looks, or the words he spoke, sunghoon was determined to let the feelings between the two of you grow. he’s even gotten more bolder with his displays of affection.

slowly, throughout the time since your kiss, you let yourself feel all the deep and confusing and complex emotions for him. let yourself pretend that you weren’t a doomed mermaid, but a regular human girl who was falling in love.

so, you shivered at his fleeting touch, wishing for more. you hid your heated face as the two of you exchanged longing glances. you melted at his sweet and honest words, as if it was a secret only the two of you shared. and for the first time in your life, you had everything you’ve ever wanted.

“you feeling better today, my pearl?” sunghoon asked you gently. a couple days ago you lightly burned your hand while lighting the oil lamp. it was a mere sting, really, but sunghoon has been fawning over you ever since. when he first called you “my pearl,” a few days after your kiss, it came as a shock.

“my pearl?” you asked him, slight shock fueling your voice. it was later in the day after the two of you finished the majority of what you had to do around the lighthouse. you and sunghoon sat across from each other at the table with a discarded shared meal pushed to the side in the center of you both. his hand intertwined with yours, thumb caressing the back of it.

“like the ones in your hair,” he said, using his free hand to motion to them. his smile—that seemed permanent these days—grew even more and it lit up his whole face. “unless you want to be called something different…”

sunghoon leaned across the small table towards you, tilting his head. his lips were inches from yours. in a low voice, he added, “like sweetheart, or darling, or baby…”

a permanent smile seemed planted on your lips too. your face felt like it was on fire, “i’ll like whatever you want to call me. the only thing that matters is that it comes from your lips.” sunghoon chuckled and his head fell in the other direction before placing a sweet kiss on your lips. “i’ll keep that in mind.”

“i told you, i’m okay,” you started as sunghoon looked over your wrapped hand. he glanced up at you with his brows raised before softly kissing the spot on your hand that you hurt. “there’s no need to worry.”

sunghoon then brought your hand to his chest. you felt the dull thump of his heartbeat and your assuring smile faltered slightly. you pulled your hand away. “we should finish cleaning the lighthouse,” you said, looking down to your feet. you glanced back up and sunghoon nodded. you saw the worry start to settle on his face but you moved before he could say anything else.

later that night, a storm had rolled in. it wasn’t as bad as the one that brought you here, but it still scared you nonetheless. it had woken you up and the thunder shook you to your core. it made you remember that just because you were pretending everything was okay and normal didn’t mean that they were. you had to tell sunghoon the truth at some point, and it had to be soon.

you shakily slid out your bed, clutching tightly to your frilly, high-collared white nightgown, and made cautious steps towards your door. with each strike of lightning, your bedroom illuminated and you saw your shadow dance across the floor. sometimes, it didn’t look like you had legs at all, but a tail still. the more steps you took, the more some of them felt wrong. like you were stepping on hot coals or urchins.

shaking your head as you slowly opened your door, you tried to calm yourself down. it was all in your head, that’s all. everything was okay.

you made your way down the short hall towards sunghoon’s room. carefully, you opened his door, the creaking getting drowned out by the rolling thunder. sunghoon was already awake, staring out his window from his bed at the storm, features drawn in complete focus. his eyes snapped to you and his slowly opening door before softening.

you felt silly, like a child coming to a parent after a bad dream. he must’ve seen how scared you were, because he motioned you over to him. you closed his door before walking over to his bed. you climbed up onto it and sat next to him, the two of you peering out his window.

the storm was even less bad than you thought it was. mainly just a little rain and a lot of thunder. the sea waves weren’t even as bad as you thought they initially seemed.

“the storm should be over soon,” sunghoon said, looking over to you, “the waves of thunder are getting further and further apart.” his spectacles caught the moonlight briefly before he took them off. “here, you should get some sleep.”

sunghoon shifted in the bed and pulled his covers over you, urging you to lay down. once you did, the two of you laid in silence and in the darkness—besides the flash of lightning here and there. you looked over at him in the dark, watching his silhouette. “sunghoon, i—”

your mouth clamped shut. how do you even bring something like ‘cutting someone’s heart out’ up? how do you do it without confirming to yourself and revealing to him that you love him deeply? how would he react to it all? you didn’t want your relationship to change, but this road had to be crossed. you had to let him know that your time was limited together—that you only had roughly another two weeks before you’d be seafoam.

how there is no salvation waiting for you.

you decided that it had to wait another day. one where it wasn’t storming and you could see each other’s faces. he deserved that.

“thank you…” you trailed instead, swallowing the lump in your throat. “for all that you’ve done for me thus far. i can’t tell you how much it all means to me.” you felt him shift and though you didn’t physically see his face, you felt the weight of his eyes on you.

in a quiet voice, you added, “how much you mean to me.”

the warmth of his body next to yours was suddenly too much for you. how different everything felt was, once again, overwhelming. it took everything in you not to cry.

“you mean a lot to me, too,” sunghoon said in the same quiet voice as you. “more than you know.”

his arms reached out towards you and his touch felt like sparks along your body. they wrapped around your body and pulled you closer to him, until your head was resting on his chest and you could hear his quickening heartbeat as his chest rose and fell. it made you want to cry even more.

“i’m glad that you came in, i actually can’t sleep that well during storms,” sunghoon said. you looked up at him and you could almost make out his face. “and your presence is always a welcome one. makes me feel calmer.”

you smiled to yourself, your face heating. “i think i can help with that…” you trailed.

sunghoon looked down and hummed in question. you continued, “there’s a lullaby my mother used to sing to me as a child when i couldn’t sleep.” you began to hum the start of it softly.

like magic, sunghoon felt his body begin to get heavy and his eyes struggled to stay open. he yawned and you stopped humming briefly to giggle before continuing. he pulled you even closer, to the point where you were practically almost on top of him. sunghoon just couldn’t get over the way you smelled like the sea waves. it reminded him so much of everything he loves.

in no time at all he was drifting into a peaceful sleep, feeling like the calm ripples of waves were all around him. and next to him was you—the beautiful maiden who had come from the waves, capturing his heart and singing your beautiful lullabies.

sunghoon was past smitten, was past falling, he was in deep. deeper than he’s ever been before and the more time he spent with you, the farther down he went. sunghoon was in love with you, he just needed some way to put his emotions into words and tell you. there was no doubt in his mind about you not feeling the same.

the weather had grown colder than usual, especially during the night. when you and sunghoon weren’t working around the lighthouse, you were both in the house by the fire, talking about nothing and everything. you had just come back inside from relighting the oil lamp at the top of the lighthouse. “it’s really cold out there!” you exclaimed with a laugh as you walked towards where sunghoon sat on the armchair.

he has just come from lighting the fireplace in his bedroom, where you’ve been sleeping ever since that night a week ago when you came in during a storm. sunghoon extended his hand towards you and you intertwined your fingers with his. he quickly pulled you to him and you fell into his lap with a squeal while he laughed. “let me warm you up then, my love,” sunghoon chuckled, pressing warm kisses to your cold cheeks.

the fire in the downstairs hearth was already merely warm embers and it was nearly time for bed. sunghoon pressed a lasting kiss to your lips, both of your mouths moving in sync before you had to break away for air. you stared into his brown eyes with wide eyes, lips just a breath away from each other. sunghoon’s hand was cupping your cheek and for a moment, it was just the two of you in the whole world.

you inhaled sharply before kissing him again. it was full of that same passion and want from the first kiss the two of you shared. in the midst of it, you twisted in his lap, hiking up your nightgown and straddling him as your lips worked against each other.

it felt like the jar you kept all you love for him began to crack until it finally exploded, letting all of the love flow freely. it was too much to contain—too powerful to control. there was no stopping it and it all only grew more and more. it felt as if there was fire in the pit of your belly, making your skin hot and your head clouded.

you pulled away from sunghoon’s lips just enough to speak. “take me,” you whispered lowly. you saw the way his eyes widened and his grasp on your hips tightened. “please,” you begged before placing your lips back on his with a hot kiss.

sunghoon sat the two of you up so you were no longer leaning back on the armchair. it seemed like it took everything in him to rip his lips away from yours. he stood and you intertwined your hand with his and led him up the stairs.

when the two of you made it to his room you let go of his hand as he stoked the fire. you pulled off your white nightgown and let it fall to the floor below. you then crawled onto his bed as you waited, completely naked. the warmth of the flames made your already hot skin feel like it was on fire.

sunghoon froze when he saw you on the bed, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly agape. he watched as the flickering light bathed you in warm hues and made your hair glitter with all of the pearls strung in it. you smiled at him shyly, you gaze casting down for a moment before looking back up at him. you were so beautiful that it truly took sunghoon’s breath away.

he wasted no time, stripping off his own clothes before climbing onto his bed and on top of you, his lips latching with yours in a heated kiss.

you moaned against his lips when his hand slid in between the two of you and down to where you needed him the most. with his thumb, he rubbed at the sensitive bud and made your back arch off of the bedsheets. you whimpered into his mouth, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer to you.

sunghoon’s thumb then traveled down farther, spreading your arousal between your folds and having you whining. his warm hands sent electricity through your body and you didn’t know how much more you’d be able to take if he didn’t do something. you pulled away from his lips, chest rising and falling heavily as your brows knitted together. “i need you,” you begged in a low voice.

sunghoon then slipped a finger inside of you, causing you to gasp and hold onto him tighter. he watched as your face twisted into pleasure and he slowly began to pump it in and out of you, savoring the way your body reacted to him and his touch. once you were clawing at his back, he slipped in another finger, curling them at just the right angle to have you melt underneath him.

you’ve never felt pleasure like this before and it made you angry that you waited so long with sunghoon. the way he repeatedly pushed his slender fingers inside you, coating them with your wetness, made every withering scale and the pain worth it. as long as you got to be with him, everything was worth it.

sunghoon pressed open mouthed kisses down your neck and to your breasts. his tongue circled your nipple before he pulled away. you were writhing beneath him, soft moans falling from your lips at the way his fingers moved. they only got louder when he would curl them at just the right moment and pressed up against your sweet spot.

he watched with a satisfied smile as you tried to press your legs together, a whimpering mess. he pushed one of your legs away with his free hand, his fingers splaying across your thigh and keeping it up towards your chest. soon, he felt your walls grip his fingers tightly before you were covering them in a pretty white. but, sunghoon wasn’t finished with you just yet. he was determined to make this the best night of your life.

helping you ride out your high, he brought his lips back down to yours as he slowly pumped his fingers inside you. your chest rose and fell as you tried to fill your lungs up with oxygen, but you still turned the slow kiss into a deeper one.

“are you ready, baby?” sunghoon asked you in a soft voice, breaking away from your lips. you nodded eagerly, you were more than ready.

he moved so he sat back on his knees, pushing your legs apart as he pulled his wet fingers out of you. you leaned up on your elbows to watch him. more arousal pooled in your stomach as you looked over him and the way the firelight bounced off of him. he looked heavenly, completely angelic. and tonight he was all yours—not the land’s, not the sea’s, yours. and you were his.

slowly, sunghoon slid into you. you gasped loudly at the feeling of being so full, so completely enraptured by him. once he was fully inside you, he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your lips. your lips moved in sync with his and you wrapped your legs around his hips to bring him closer to you.

sunghoon started to rut his hips forward, repeatedly pushing himself inside of you. he moaned at how good you felt around him, at how beautiful you looked underneath him with your pretty moans and your face full of pleasure. it was everything he wanted and more. he never wanted this night to end.

the two of you tried to pull each other impossibly closer. you were both desperate for each other’s touch and no matter how close you were, it wasn’t close enough.

you pulled away from sunghoon’s lips after fighting the urge to breathe for too long and buried your face in his neck. he pressed chaste kisses to your shoulder as your bodies moved in motion. it was like two waves colliding over and over again.

inside of you, you felt the rope of pleasure start to fray and snap. you whimpered, breathing heavily as you looked up sunghoon and the thin sheen of sweat that made him glow even more. “please,” you begged him, whining as your back arched off the bed again and your hips lifted towards his. “please, please, please.”

your head felt too clouded and it took all of your effort to even say that simple word. you were so close, so-so close. your body never felt like this before, tingly all over and on fire. it was such a stark contrast to how it felt when you were a mermaid. did humans always feel like this, or was this purely from sunghoon’s actions?

you weakly sat up, wrapping your arms around sunghoon’s neck for leverage. a desperate need overtook your senses as you rocked your hips against him in time with the way he pushed into you. the both of you moaned as the new sudden feeling.

“you feel so good,” sunghoon murmured. “so perfect.”

he sloppily smashed his lips against yours, too eager to kiss you properly with how good you were making each other feel. it felt like your bodies were made for each other—like the two of you were made for each other.

soon, the rope completely snapped and you moaned loudly against his lips, body shaking as your movement halted. more whines and moans fell from your parted lips as sunghoon kept moving. you held him tightly, scared that if you were to let go you would fall apart completely.

it wasn’t long after that you felt warmness spill inside you. sunghoon stilled, his head falling into the crook of your neck and his breathing coming out haggard. soft moans emitted from him and for a moment the two of you caught your breaths in silence.

once you felt like you weren’t in the clouds, a shy giggle escaped you. sunghoon looked up from your neck, an amused smile on his face. “what?” he asked. you shook your head as you giggled more, kissing him briefly. you intertwined your hands with his.

“that was heavenly,” you smiled, your face completely hot. sunghoon brought his hand up to cradle your cheek, his thumb caressing the warm skin, before kissing you again with a grin. “is it always like that?” you wondered.

he laughed, shaking his head a little. “not in my experience—no. nothing close to that,” he replied. “you’re just special.”

a sheepish smile tugged at your face and you looked away from his gaze. sunghoon pressed a kiss to your jaw and you giggled more as he pressed another to your neck. “come on,” he murmured against your skin, “let’s get you cleaned up, darling.”

after the two of you were cleaned up, you laid together on his bed beneath the covers, the dwindling firelight illuminating the two of you. your back was to sunghoon’s chest and he trailed the tips of his fingers along your shoulder and arm, sometimes softly kissing it.

you turned to face him and he fondly smiled down at you, causing his expression to mirror on your own face. he leaned down to kiss you. “my pearl,” sunghoon whispered affectionately before kissing you again.

the next day, the air around you and sunghoon was charged. no longer were the touches fleeting and the two of you shared longing glances. everything was practically out in the open now, one of you just had to bridge the gap completely.

a deep rooted sensation bubbled inside you and you could only describe it as fear. you had to tell sunghoon about the sea witch’s deal, and you had to do it today. you were running out of time—with only a week left—and it couldn’t be put off any longer.

it made the fear in the pit of your stomach worse when you noticed how sunghoon looked at you—how he always looked at you. it was full of love and hope and yearning. you could almost see the words forming at the tip of his tongue without him needing to say anything.

it made you feel guilty that you waited until the last moment to say anything.

sunghoon couldn’t keep his eyes off of you for the whole day. he kept falling behind in his duties because he was too busy focused on you. too focused on the way your dress swayed as you moved, or the way the pearls in your hair glittered in the sunlight, completely free from the up-do that the women of the village wore. or the way you smiled at him every time you caught him staring, that smile that he would do anything and everything for.

the fire lighting the lighthouse was nothing compared to the fire that burned in his heart for you, so blinding that it was the only thing he could make out. you set him alight, made his skin hot and his cheeks rosy. sunghoon felt like he didn’t even need his thicker, wool clothes with you around him. you made his heart race and race until he was sure it would go jumping out of his chest and into your gentle hands.

how could he not love you? from the moment he saw you it felt like something clicked into place within himself. like you were the final piece he’s been waiting for and he was now complete. you completed him.

if you were the lighthouse, sunghoon was the boats and ships drawn to your light with the excitement of land. for the rest of his days, his soul would desperately call out to yours until you came home to him. he was the moth and you were the flame—and he would gladly get burned by your heat if that meant he could be with you, however brief.

you were springtime with the promise of pretty, blooming flowers. the sunlight bouncing off the ripples of the sea and the cool air that flowed up from it. you were the shadows that the leaves cast on the ground and the calming sound of the remnants of waves hitting the rocks. sunghoon could shout from the top of the lighthouse everything he adored about you, but by the time he would be anywhere close to finishing you both would be old and grey, skin wrinkled from all the times you made him laugh and smile.

today was the day, he had to tell you how he felt. he couldn’t keep it locked inside him any longer.

after the two of you finished everything for the day, sunghoon pulled you inside and away from the chilling winds. he sat you on the couch and nervously twiddled his thumbs as he forced the words from his mouth, and once he started he found it even harder to stop.

“i love you,” sunghoon finally breathed. “i love you so much that it’s too much to contain. it spills out of me like uncontrollable rivers. i could tell you over and over and it still wouldn’t be enough—i love you, i love you, i love you!”

he grasped your hands in his, desperately holding onto them as he stared into your eyes with furrowed brows. nothing would be able to capture sunghoon’s love for you and it frustrated him to no end, yet, it didn’t stop him from trying. “i love you like the water loves the land. like the sun loves the moon and all of the stars in the sky,” he finally concluded.

you stared at him with a melancholic look and for a moment sunghoon thought that he might’ve been mistaken. that he read into you a little too much. but, all his worries were eased when you flung yourself into his arms and into his lap, making him fall back against the couch from the edge. you kissed him so passionately that it took his breath away again, but he was content with the burning in his lungs.

“i love you,” you told him, like you had discovered the secrets to the world and it all lied within him. “you paint all of my skies the most saturated colors of blue like i’ve never seen before. you’re the air in my lungs and the beating of my heart—oh, i love you so much!”

all sunghoon could do was laugh joyously as he held you close to him, planting a million and one kisses onto your face as you, too, laughed. he didn’t think he’d ever be this happy in his life, and it was all because of you. no longer were his days lonely and grey; they were filled with the most magnificent colors and your presence.

you didn’t realize the tears that began to fall down your face, or how the overwhelming fear in your stomach came to the surface until you got a good look at sunghoon’s happy face. you inhaled sharply before it was all too much and you broke down completely. at first, sunghoon thought they were happy tears until he saw the way you violently shook and his smile faltered.

he pulled you to his chest as his hand rubbed comforting circles against your back. “you’re crying, my pearl? why are you sad?” he asked you he gently, pulling you away from him so he could see your face.

you shook your head, sniffling and wiping the tears from your cheeks. “i’m happy! i’m so happy for the first time in my life and it’s because of you,” you started. “only, i’m still that naive girl i was when i first washed up on your shore, because this can’t last…”

sunghoon’s brows drew together further. “what do you mean, my love?”

and so you told him everything. about how when you were a mermaid you dreamed of having legs like the landwalkers did, dreamed of walking on land and leading a human life. you told him how you would watch the villagers and then how the lighthouse caught your attention and you saw him from the water for the very first time and knew that he would always have your heart. you told him of the childhood story your father use to tell you of the mermaid who wished for legs and the sea witch who granted it.

finally, you told him about how you sought out said sea witch and found her, making a wish for legs of your very own. about the precedent of the deal and how it required you to cut out the beating heart of the human who you loved the most—him. then, you told him how you could never go through with it, how you’d rather throw yourself to the sea and become seafoam before ever thinking of hurting him.

sunghoon sat quietly with a slight look of horror as you spoke, intently listening to every word that fell from your mouth. “don’t you see why i told you it was dangerous for us to get closer? why it’s not safe?” you cried. “and it’s all my fault… i should’ve insisted that you take me to the village instead of staying. now we only have a week left before i leave you forever.”

another moment passed as you cried and cried and sunghoon held you as tightly as he could, fearful that you’d crumble completely in his arms. he struggled to wrap his mind around the whole thing—around the fact that your time together was limited.

sunghoon couldn’t bear living without you, that was the only stable thought in his mind.

he took your face in his hands and gently wiped away your tears with the pads of his thumbs. it broke his heart to see you so sad, so defeated. all sunghoon wanted to see was your beautiful smile again.

“why did you think i’d let you sacrifice yourself for me?” he asked. as if he’d let you do such a thing. he would rather carve out his heart himself and throw it to the sea if it meant you could keep the life you dreamed of.

you threw his words back at him, “why did you think i’d let you sacrifice yourself for me? it’s not a life if you aren’t in it.”

“because my heart already beats for you.” you shook your head at his words but sunghoon just nodded. “it does. and i want you to have everything you’ve ever wanted, even if it’s at the cost of my own life.”

“no…” you shook your head as more tears fell from your watery eyes. “no,” you stated more firmly. “this life means nothing to me without you. i’m not giving her your heart and neither are you. it’ll be hard when i’m gone, but it will get easier with time. we just have to make the most of the week we have left.”

sunghoon just tilted his head at you and shook his head as tears of his own fell from his eyes. it wouldn’t get easier, and no matter how close he held you, it wouldn’t be close enough.

in the days leading towards the end of the month you were given, you and sunghoon spent every waking moment together. duties were cast aside to only its bare bones and deemed unimportant. you spent time leaving little pieces of yourself on the tiny island. you had taken some of the pearls from your hair and sewn them onto the hat that sunghoon always wore; he even let you weave some of them into the strands of his hair.

a storm had begun to brew along the horizon of the sea that left everything dark and cloudy. you knew that the storm was for you—for him, and it saddened you deeply. it also filled you with a grim determination. the sea witch wouldn’t have sunghoon’s heart. you would die making sure that was true.

it felt as if all hope was lost. like a blanket of complete darkness covered the two of you and you walked lost through it. the majority of the week was spent as if you both were mourning each other, and you were. sunghoon just couldn’t believe that this would be the last time he would ever see you again—he refused to believe it.

he ensured that he had as much physical attachments of you two together as possible, even going so far to hire a photographer and have your pictures taken. at night, he could hear you weeping and he couldn’t do anything to comfort you except hold you. it wasn’t enough for either of you. how could the two of you possibly pretend to be happy when you both knew that the end was near? that the two of you were doomed from the very start?

it was like ice replaced all the warmth inside him and froze him down to the marrow in his bones. the only spark inside him was his undying love for you.

it felt strange to feel such deep and heartbreaking, mournful sorrow over someone who was still living. like his one true love was already taken from him.

how would sunghoon live on once you were gone? everywhere he goes he would search for you, whether that be beneath the empty covers of his bed or between the flickering light of the lighthouse. would he see someone at the village and think that it was you, only for them to turn and he’d see that it wasn’t? would he see the glittering sunlight along the water and think that it was the pearls in your hair—that you’ve returned home to him? he couldn’t bear it all.

but, he couldn’t do anything to stop it. the final day was here and the storm that was previously brewing in the horizon raged on, demanding to be felt—demanding the heart it came for. unease sunk deep into sunghoon, and as you both watched the storm and harsh winds from the window he held you close.

“please,” sunghoon begged, voice hoarse, barely above a whisper and half-muffled from his face buried in your hair, “please, don’t do this. we can figure out another way, just… just don’t go.”

sunghoon had been crying all night and the storm didn’t help one bit. even your lullaby only barely managed to make him fall asleep. he didn’t want to miss a single precious second with you by sleeping. he had the rest of his life without you to sleep.

“it’s too late, my love,” you said somberly. you shifted to face him, tears welling in your eyes. “there’s no other option. i have to do this. it’s the only way… you’re the land and i’m the sea—we only touch for a brief moment.”

you pressed your lips to sunghoon’s firmly, letting all your passion and love for him seep through it. no matter how much your lungs ached and your head pounded, you both didn’t break away. if it was going to be your last kiss, it would be one you’ll both remember forever.

only when you felt like you were about to pass out did you gently pull away from him. a strike of lightning followed by a vicious roar of thunder sounded. “it is time,” you whispered.

you stood from the couch, forcing yourself to break away from sunghoon and the life you cherished so deeply. you bent down to give him one last hug. “i love you, forever,” you said, “and i’ll miss you for even longer.”

“i love you,” sunghoon said, his voice breaking into a cry as tears slid down his face. “i miss you.” with bated breath, sunghoon looked up at you through his tears, “i’m sorry.”

you shook your head at sunghoon as you stood to your full height, your hand falling from his face and you wiped away his tears. you inhaled sharply and you got one last look at him, one last look at him to burn into your mind before you turned to seafoam.

you took in every inch of him, down to the hat with your pearls sewn onto it discarded at his feet and the pearls woven into his dark hair as he ran his hands through it. sunghoon was so drastically different from when you first met him, yet, completely the same all at once. it broke your heart into a million pieces to see him this way and have it be all because of you.

inhaling deeply, you turned your back before he could convince you to stay. your hand lingered near the door and you turned back to him one last time. ��goodbye, my love, my sunghoon.”

with your last goodbye, you opened the door and faced the storm.

there was no use in delaying the inevitable. you stomped towards the water, stripping off your clothes and your last shred of humanity. anger permeated you, hot like the flame of the flickering lighthouse.

it was so unfair. it was so unfair that you couldn’t have the one thing you’ve ever wished for. but you guessed that it was no easy wish going against nature. a thing belonging to the sea cannot step onto the land without consequences—and here you were, facing them. walking headfirst back to the sea—to your own death, like one would if they had pockets full of stones.

you barely got to your knees in the water before red-hot pain spread throughout your legs, the same pain that you felt when they formed from your tail. soon after you were falling to the water, your deep blue, color shifting tail emerging from behind you. you dived underwater, thankful for once that mermaids couldn’t cry.

you began to swim further out into the sea, watching as more and more of your body transformed back to its original state. the entire time you thought of the sea witch, of how you hated her and her cruelness. she did this to you—she let you dream of hope only to turn the lights back out. you never should’ve made that bargain.

above you, you saw the water ripple like something was dropped in. you wouldn’t have thought anything of it if not for the feeling against your tail. you stopped swimming and twisted to look behind you.

shock filled you and your eyes widened. sunghoon swam towards you, clothes flowing in the water as he got closer.

no. what was he doing here? doesn’t he know how dangerous it is for him to be in the sea at this moment? you wanted to lecture him, scream at him—but, all that filled you was the love you have for him.

sunghoon reached out his hands toward your face and gently grabbed your cheeks. he swam forward and placed his lips onto yours. you should’ve known that he wouldn’t let you go alone, that he would be there with you until the very end—even if you told him over and over that it would only make the pain worse.

you pulled away and let yourself smile at him one last time—for the first time as what you truly were. that smile quickly faltered when you saw all the red start to seep out from around the two of you, feeling the knife against your chest.

looking down, you gasped and bubbles of air floated towards the surface. lodged in sunghoon’s chest was a knife with blood rapidly coming from it. you shook your head at him, brows knitting together in anguish, and sunghoon just nodded.

you refused to let him do this—to let him die. to let him die for you. it wasn’t supposed to be like this. it was supposed to be you, not him. you were supposed to be the sacrifice.

you linked your arms under his and swam as fast as you could to the shore, bringing sunghoon towards the surface and fighting against the harsh waves. every second felt like a grain of sand in an hourglass, and you didn’t have much sand left. you now know what he meant when he said “i’m sorry.”

sunghoon didn’t have much time, you knew that from the way he began to cough violently. you dragged him as far up on the shore and as far away from the water as you possibly could with the hindrance of your tail. the sea witch wouldn’t have him, you will die making sure of it.

you started screaming for help until your voice was hoarse, but it was no use against the whipping winds of the storm. nobody would hear you on this tiny island away from the village anyway. “why?” you asked him, tears falling from your face, “why would you do this? the sea doesn’t deserve a heart like yours.”

sunghoon grabbed your hands and brought them to the hilt of the blade in his chest. “take it… it’s yours. it will always be yours,” he said hoarsely. blood spilled past his lips and you cried harder. “go, be free. walk on land and live the life you’ve always wanted. be human.”

he violently coughed more and more blood coated his lips.

“it’s not a life i want if it isn’t with you,” you cried, removing your hands from the hilt and pressing them to his wound. your hands were stained but the blood wouldn’t stop.

sunghoon took your hands in his, “it’s not a world i want to live in if you’re not by my side, my pearl.”

with the last of his strength, sunghoon wrapped his hands around the hilt and harshly pulled the blade from his chest. you gasped as more blood gushed from the wound and stained his shirt red. “no, no, no!” you sobbed louder with each word.

“kiss.. me… one last time?” sunghoon heaved in question. his eyes started to close but he fought to keep them open—he wouldn’t waste any more precious seconds.

you couldn’t believe that it was all ending like this—that it all could come to this. you stupid, half-witted, naive little guppy. how dare you dream of a life you could never have?

you sniffled and nodded. you didn’t care that his blood would be on your lips, you bent down to press yours to his anyway. as they moved in sync you could feel the life draining from him and you pulled away, letting him get as much oxygen as he possibly can. it wasn’t supposed to be this way.

sunghoon smiled up at you and it was the last glimmer of light in the darkness as the rain poured down around the two of you. he cupped your face gently, his hand trembling. “my pearl…” he whispered, “my y/n… i love you so much.”

with those last words, sunghoon’s eyes closed and his hand fell from your face and into the wet sand below.

you looked down at him with wide, watery eyes. a loud sob ripped through you and you cried until your chest felt like exploding and you could barely see from the burning tears. you raised a shaky hand and placed it softly on sunghoon’s chest where his heart resided. it no longer beat. he was gone, truly… gone.

you took the knife laying limply in his other hand and threw it as far away from the two of you as you could. you then laid your head on his chest like you did all those nights ago in the bed you shared, only, it wasn’t the same.

sunghoon was gone. his warm body was now cold and his beating heart had stilled. all that was left was you—and soon, even you would cease to exist.

you felt tingling in your tail, little stabbing pains that would hurt if you didn’t feel so numb right now. you knew that you were withering away—turning into seafoam like the sea witch promised with only your heart to leave behind so she could collect it. you welcomed it, for you had nothing left.

let her take your heart, so long as she doesn’t touch his.

softly, you began to hum the lullaby your mother used to sing to you as a child. you hoped that it would aid sunghoon on his journey beyond, that the storm would no longer make him anxious and instead he felt calm. that it would gently lull him to where he needed to be.

more tears slid down your wet cheeks from the lack of sound in chest. how it didn’t rise and fall with his breathing. but, you continued humming.

the fin of your tail started to turn first. seafoam overtook it and fell away into the sand in a pool of foamy white. you closed your eyes as it spread further and further up your body. you hummed until you physically couldn’t anymore—until your entire body was seafoam and so were your lips. until you were nothing but a beating heart against sunghoon’s still chest.

the storm began to melt away, the dark clouds very slowly rolling back towards the magic that casted them and the rain traveling upwards towards them. it is unknown how long the remnants of your bodies laid in the wet sand, curled into each other.

there was no telling where sunghoon ended and you began.

deep down below at the sea floor there is a rumbling. a loud, angry scream follows and it is said it can be heard for miles. the sea witch tries with all her might, but her waters are just too far away from where the two lovers lie. she is unable to take their hearts, for they are their own—they belong to each other and no one else. and soon after, your heart turns to seafoam too. the two of you, at once, were home with each other.

while the law searches the tiny island to figure out what came of the lighthouse keeper, they find a picture of a woman with pearls in her hair—similar to the pearls found in the lighthouse keeper’s hair—and a shifting blue scale. the picture and scale was hidden in a pocket close to his chest and free from any blood. the woman was never found and the villagers have no recollection of her—despite the various photographs around the lighthouse keeper’s small home.

through the breaking light of the dawn, it is said you can see two souls turn to one.

∿ [ continue on to . . . playlist , masterlist , taglist ] ︵͡ 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙛𝙚𝙚𝙙𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙧𝙚𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙬𝙚𝙡𝙘𝙤𝙢𝙚 (⌒‿⌒)♡

🏷️﹙ want to be added to my permanent taglist? click here ﹚ @jjunberry @gothgyuu @gyuuberries @beargyuuzz @kittyhyuka @dani-is-tired @riaawr @nxzz-skz @jakeswifez @mafiulaputaama @rapmonie2047 @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @skaterhoon @aaa-sia @jeonghaniehaee @todorokiskitten @onlyhyunjin @lilyuwon @who-tf-soddhi @americanojake @in-somnias-world @ghstzzn @chaconadine @won4me @usnve @aduh0308 @jiryunie @minaateez @jenn-ieverse @bunniwords @slut4hee @shuichi-sama @obsidiannero @sol3chu @ambi01 @lunesdesire @woniefull @loveyhoons @wave2hoon @ikeulove @gqthicghoul @ynzyy @jjonghoonist @strawberryshoujosundae @nics-fxy @jiyeons-closet @jooniesbears-blog @yourenzoo @strxwbloody @eneiyri

2K notes · View notes

alygator77 · 10 days ago

Text

.˚✶˚. motherhood and matrimony ・❥・ wrapped in love .˚✶˚.

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

ꨄ series 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.

ꨄ chapter summary. christmas morning at the gojo estate has always been a display of elegant grandeur—but this year, the true magic is found in the quiet, heartfelt moments shared with you. for satoru, it’s a holiday that finally feels like home.

ꨄ︎ warnings/tags. pure tooth rotting fluff. satoru being the best step dad. lots of domesticity. it does get a bit suggestive at times.

ꨄ words: 12.6k

ꨄ a/n. this is a part of my series motherhood and matrimony, however it can also be read as a fluffy holiday oneshot (you'll probably appreciate some of the references more if you've read the series though!) this entire ch is written from satoru's perspective! also, for those that have read the series, i would definitely read this after ch 7 ♡

ꨄ taglist: closed (ao3)

♬ playlist ꨄ series masterlist ꨄ

side ch // wrapped in love

Christmas had always been a spectacle at the Gojo estate. Extravagant decorations that seemed to glisten with the weight of their price tags, a towering tree so grand it nearly grazed the vaulted ceilings, and a meticulously curated guest list for the Gojo’s annual holiday gala.

Business, wrapped in tinsel—topped with a bow.

Yes, for Satoru Gojo, Christmas always felt cold. Not the kind of cold that nipped at your nose or made you long for a crackling fireplace—it was the emptiness of grandeur.

Growing up in the Gojo estate, Christmas wasn’t a celebration; it was a stage. Takemi Gojo orchestrated the performance with precision, weaving an illusion of family warmth while the frigid reality of their relationship sat heavy within the corners of the mansion.

Twinkling lights adorned every surface, crystal ornaments shimmered under the tree’s glow, and tables overflowed with feasts meant to impress, not to savor.

His father had called it tradition. Satoru had called it lonely.

And from a young age, Satoru had learned that gifts were currency, not sentiment—the meaning of the season buried beneath layers of duty and pretense.

But this year… something was different.

Satoru lounges on the couch, long legs sprawled out as he watches you and Haru at the tree. You crouch low, holding an ornament in your hand, gently guiding Haru as she reaches up to find the perfect spot.

Her giggles fill the room like the sound of bells, bright and contagious, and she claps her tiny hands when the ornament finally stays.

Turning to her, your smile and the warmth in your expression is enough to melt something in Satoru’s chest.

It’s a feeling he can’t quite name—foreign, yet achingly familiar. Like standing outside during the first snowfall—the cold biting at your cheeks, but the beauty of it stealing your breath.

For the first time, Christmas doesn’t feel like an obligation. It feels like… home.

But it isn’t the decorations, nor the estate’s grandeur—it’s you. It’s Haru. It’s the way you’ve taken this cold, hollow place and filled it with laughter, warmth, and life. It’s the way you’ve turned this house into a home—a home he doesn’t want to leave.

“What do you think, Satoru?”

He blinks, glancing up at you—your voice pulling him out of his reverie. You were holding up two ornaments, one red and one blue, with a quirked brow and a soft smile.

Haru, meanwhile, was standing on her tippy toes, trying to reach the highest branch she could manage.

“Oh, uh… hmm?”

You roll your eyes with mock exasperation, shaking the ornaments for emphasis.

“Red or blue? We can’t have both; it’ll clash. Focus, Gojo.”

His lips twitch into a lazy grin as he leans back, folding his arms behind his head.

“Oh, definitely blue,” he says with a teasing lilt. “It matches my vibe better. Don’tcha think?”

You snort, rolling your eyes with a grin—muttering something about his ego—and as you turn back to Haru, Satoru takes the opportunity to watch you again.

The sight of you—your hair falling loose over your shoulders, the way your smile makes even your oversized sweater seem elegant—It isn’t just the room you light up. It’s him.

‘Gifts are just another transaction, Satoru. A display of wealth and power.’

His father’s voice lingers in his mind, sharp and cold as ever. But you—you’ve shown him a different kind of wealth. One that can’t be bought, or wrapped in shiny paper.

And for the first time, he feels it. Not the chill of the season, but… the warmth of belonging.

But with that warmth comes something else—something he’s not used to.

Panic.

Christmas is just days away, and for the life of him, he has no idea what to give you.

He’s Satoru Gojo. He could buy you anything. Diamonds. Designer clothes. Hell, an entire island, if he felt like it. Money has never been an obstacle—it’s always been a solution.

But when it comes to you, every option feels… wrong.

You—who sighs in exasperation at the estate’s staff, grumbling about how you’re perfectly capable of pouring your own glass of water, thank you very much.

You—who pokes at the extravagant feasts from world-class chefs, saying they could feed an entire village, yet they still couldn’t make your favorite comfort food the way you liked it.

You—who wrinkles your nose at his pretentious lifestyle, rolling your eyes every time he casually mentions the price of something without even realizing.

A necklace dripping in diamonds? You’d probably say it was heavy to wear. A vacation to a private island? You’d tell him you’d rather spend the time with Haru in the backyard, making snow angels.

A car? A house? Exquisite art? Fuck, a horse?

None of it feels enough.

He groans quietly, running a hand through his hair, cursing himself under his breath.

When did this happen? When did he get so comfortable letting his guard down around you, so at ease that now, sitting in his own home, he feels utterly vulnerable? Utterly lost?

And worse, he knows you can probably sense it.

“Satoru.”

Your voice cuts through his spiraling thoughts, drawing his attention back to you.

Standing a few feet away, the soft glow from the Christmas tree casts a gentle light on your features—a slight furrow to your brow as you tilt your head, holding a new ornament in your hand.

“Are… you okay? You look like you’re plotting something.”

He straightens instantly, schooling his features into an easy grin, but it’s a little too late for that—you’re watching him too closely, as if trying to unravel the puzzle in his head.

“Me? Plotting? Never.” He leans back, resting an arm across the top of the couch. “Just wondering if we need a bigger tree. This one’s lookin’ a little small.”

Your eyes narrow suspiciously, and for a moment, he wonders if you can see straight through him.

You always do.

“Satoru,” you deadpan, and fuck—he knows he’s lost. “This tree is ten feet tall.”

He shrugs, as though you’ve just proven his point.

“Yeah… but like… wouldn’t fifteen feet look better? That’d be a real statement.”

Your groan comes with a roll of your eyes, but it’s paired with the grin he was hoping for.

“Sure, let’s just knock down the ceiling while we’re at it. Maybe put the Empire State Building in here for good measure.”

He chuckles, relieved by your sarcasm, and for a moment, his deflection works—you turn away, back to the tree. He watches you carefully loop another ornament onto a branch while Haru tugs at your sweater, babbling about a penguin ornament.

But as soon as your attention has shifted, it’s back—that gnawing uncertainty, that quiet panic clawing at the edges of his mind.

Good lord, when did this get so hard?

He’s Satoru Gojo. He can charm his way through anything, pull the strings of the world’s most powerful people, and yet he’s paralyzed by the thought of picking out a gift for you.

The longer he thinks about it, the worse it gets. You deserve something perfect—something thoughtful. But what does perfect even look like?

What do you give someone who doesn’t want anything money can buy? How does he give you a gift that carries the weight of what you’ve given him?

“Santa’s gonna like our tree, right, Mama?”

Haru’s voice rings up like a bright chime, tugging him back to the room—to reality.

He watches as you glance down, and a soft smile blooms across your lips as you tuck a loose strand of hair behind Haru’s ear. That look—the one you reserve for her, the kind that could thaw glaciers—hits him squarely in the chest.

“He’ll love it, sweetheart.”

Your voice is as light and sure as the snow falling gently outside the frosted windows, and Haru grins, pivoting to Satoru now.

“’toru!” her face lights up like the tree behind her, “Santa’s coming! He’s gonna bring presents, and cookies, and he loves hot cocoa!”

Raising a brow, Satoru slouches further back into the couch with that practiced ease—masking the chaos still whirling behind his nonchalant façade.

“Hot cocoa, huh? With marshmallows?”

Haru nods so hard, her little curls bounce and her entire being vibrates with conviction.

“He loves marshmallows! And cookies. And maybe waffles too.”

Satoru huffs out a soft laugh, his smile easing.

“That’s a pretty sweet deal for Santa,” he murmurs.

With all the grace of a puppy on ice, Haru scrambles up onto the couch cushion beside him, wiggling her way into place. Her voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper, though it’s far from quiet.

“Mama makes the best hot cocoa. We should have some.”

The confidence in her tone makes him snort quietly, and he raises a brow—playing along.

“The best, huh? Mmm.. I dunno. That’s a pretty big claim, kid.”

“It’s true!” she insists.

And then there’s your laughter—soft, light, and entirely unguarded as it floats from behind him. It’s a sound he’s learned to treasure, one he’d bottle up if he could, a warmth that sinks beneath his skin and quiets everything else.

He swears it’s one of his favorite sounds.

“You know what? That’s a good idea,” you say, ruffling Haru’s hair as you step behind the couch.

But then, you pause beside him, leaning down to press the faintest kiss to his temple—a feather-light touch, and it strikes him like a match catching fire, warmth unfurling from that single point of contact.

Oh, how he loves the touch of your lips.

“I’m gonna grab some hot chocolate—with marshmallows, of course,” your hand brushes briefly through his hair before pulling away. “Watch Haru real quick, yeah?”

Tilting his head back to look at you, he swallows down the tightness in his chest, masking it all with another lazy smirk—because he doesn’t know how to show you just how much that tenderness means to him. How much he loves when you touch him like that, so unthinking, like it’s natural.

And for Satoru, masking it is second nature—it always has been.

“Yeah, yeah… I’ve got it covered,” he waves you off with a dramatic flick of his hand.

You roll your eyes with an affectionate huff, and he lets himself watch you for a moment longer as you disappear into the kitchen, your humming trailing softly behind you like a ribbon that tethers him to you.

And then, silence.

The moment the door swings shut, he lets out a slow, quiet exhale, the tension uncoiling from his shoulders as if he’s been holding himself together for too long.

He slumps back against the couch, his head tipping against the cushion, feeling the ghost of your touch where your fingers had been in his hair. With a sigh, he runs a hand through the same spot, smoothing the strands down absently as if he can capture what’s already gone.

It’s ridiculous how much you’ve undone him. How a single kiss, a fleeting touch, can dismantle the person he’s spent so long pretending to be.

Because in those fleeting moments, when it’s just him and the lingering warmth of you, Satoru Gojo—the man who never lets his mask slip—realizes just how tightly wound he’s become. Just how much of himself he’s spent trying to hold it all together when, in moments like that, you make it so damn easy for him to fall apart.

He closes his eyes for just a breath, letting himself feel it—the calm, the weight of it all, the way his heart stirs.

But then—

A sudden rustling sound shatters the quiet, pulling him sharply from his thoughts. One eye cracks open, blinking lazily as he scans the room.

His gaze lands on Haru, and the breath leaves his chest in a sigh that’s somewhere between disbelief and resignation.

There she is—somehow, in the span of seconds—teetering precariously on the armrest of the couch, her tiny arms outstretched like she’s on a tightrope, her face scrunched in determination.

Satoru stares at her for a beat, utterly disheveled and utterly defeated. His head tilts lazily to the side as he watches her.

“Oi,” he drawls, dragging a hand down his face with a groan that’s more exasperation than anything. “Munchkin. What do you think you’re doing?”

Haru doesn’t even flinch. She grins, wide and triumphant, wobbling dangerously like a baby deer.

“I’m tall, ‘toru!”

He blinks at her, deadpan, before letting his hand fall limply to his lap.

“Yeah? Well, you’re also gonna fall on your face.”

“Nu-uh!” she insists, wiggling her feet against the cushion for emphasis.

“Kid…” He straightens with a reluctant sigh, reaching out with one hand, just in case she topples over. “You’re gonna get me in trouble. You do realize your mom’ll murder me if she catches you pulling stunts like this, right?”

Haru giggles—loud, unbothered, entirely unfazed.

“It’s okay. I’m good!” she declares proudly, as if she’s just conquered Mount Everest.

“You sure about that?” Satoru raises a brow, though the smirk tugging at his lips betrays him. “Because… you’re about two seconds away from face-planting into the tree. And I’ll tell ya right now—Santa’s not gonna bring you anything if you wreck his setup.”

Haru freezes, her expression suddenly serious.

“He won’t?”

Satoru shrugs, as casual as ever, though there’s a sly gleam in his eye.

“Nope. Santa’s big on the whole naughty or nice thing, you know? Pretty sure ‘tree-destroyer’ lands you on the naughty list.”

Haru’s jaw drops like he’s just shattered her entire world.

“But I’m nice!”

“Yeah, well…” he sighs dramatically, “You’re not exactly convincing me right now, short stack.”

She gasps—a flurry of tiny limbs as she clambers down from the armrest in a dramatic tumble onto the cushions.

“I’m nice!” she insists again, louder this time, as if sheer volume might make it more convincing.

Satoru huffs out a laugh, ruffling her hair in an act of surrender.

“Yeah, yeah… crisis averted, princess. You’re nice. I’ll put in a good word for you with the big guy. Just… no more stunts, kay? Santa’s watching.”

She squints at him suspiciously, like she’s testing the limits of his authority over Santa Claus, before finally settling back with a small huff.

But then, Haru shifts entirely to look at him—her brows pinching together, her tiny face suddenly serious.

The shift catches him off guard—how a two-year-old can go from giggling chaos to this kind of weighty focus will always baffle him.

“‘toru.”

He quirks a brow, leaning an elbow against the back of the couch.

“…yeah?”

“You hafta tell Santa to get Mama something.”

The words catch him off guard. His grin falters just a fraction as he blinks, straightening a little to study her tiny, earnest face.

How the hell does this kid always seem to know exactly what’s on his mind?

“Oh yeah? Something for your mom, huh?”

Haru nods solemnly, as if she’s just handed him the most important mission of his life.

“Mhmm. Santa forgot last year.”

At that, his heart stumbles, the smile fading from his face.

“W-What? He… forgot?”

“Uh-huh.” Haru props herself on her elbows, swinging her feet idly against the couch. “Mama didn’t get a present.”

The simplicity of her words hits him like a punch to the gut. Innocent and unassuming, but full of a truth she doesn’t fully understand.

Satoru doesn’t respond right away, his mind suddenly swirling.

That unsettles him. The fact that no one thought to bring you anything at all?

You—who pours so much of yourself into others, who has brought a warmth into his life he didn’t think he deserved—spent last Christmas with nothing?

No gifts. No family. No one?

He hates the thought. He knows it shouldn’t surprise him though... you’ve never asked for anything, and it’s not hard to fill in the blanks.

You don’t talk much about your family—he knows there’s distance there, silence where there should be connection—and Naoya, well… he was never part of the picture. But still, the realization knocks something loose in Satoru, a quiet ache settling into the spaces he didn’t know could hurt.

“It’s no fair, ‘toru. Mama’s nice too!”

Satoru swallows hard, dragging a hand through his hair as he forces a smile back onto his face.

“Yeah… you’re right, kid…” he murmurs quietly. “Your mom’s on the very top of the nice list.”

Haru beams, her hands clasping together like she’s already imagining the magic of Christmas morning.

“Tell Santa, ’kay? Mama needs something really nice.”

The simplicity of her words hits him like a sledgehammer.

Something really nice.

As if it’s that easy, as if fixing the pieces of your world can be done with one perfect gift. But to Haru, it is that easy. Because to her, Santa fixes things.

And for the first time in his life, Satoru Gojo feels the weight of expectation—not from a boardroom, or a title, or the world that demands he be untouchable—but from a tiny girl who trusts him implicitly to fix the one thing he’s been so afraid to get right.

Fucking hell. Now he’s back to square one. What the hell is he going to get you?

He leans back into the couch, one arm draped lazily along the back, but his mind is already turning—the gears clicking into place.

“Something… nice, huh?” he says softly, more to himself than to her.

Haru beams, her little legs kicking against the cushion again as she settles back, satisfied that her request has been heard.

“Yup!”

Satoru tilts his head toward her, studying her with a thoughtful squint. Kids always seem to know the answers to things grown-ups can’t figure out. She’s managed to pry into his thoughts with frightening accuracy already, so maybe—just maybe—she’s his best shot at figuring this out.

After all, who knows you better than Haru?

“Well…” he says after a beat, angling a glance toward her, “what do you think Santa should bring your mom then?”

Haru gasps—like this is the most important question she’s ever been asked—and sits up straight, her little face lighting up.

“Me?”

“Yeah, you.” He flicks her nose lightly, earning a squeak and a giggle. “You know your mom better than anyone, right? So… what do you think she wants for Christmas?”

Haru’s brows furrow as she thinks very hard, her tiny hands tapping against her chin for emphasis. Satoru watches her expectantly, the smallest spark of hope flickering to life in his chest.

“Well…” she starts slowly, drawing the word out as though she’s stalling for time. “Mama likes cookies.”

Satoru blinks. “Uh… cookies?”

“Uh-huh.” She nods solemnly, as if this is the most serious answer in the world. “Chocolate cookies. With milk. I like them too.”

Ah… right. To Haru, the solution is simple—because to a two-year-old, happiness is simple. And for a moment, Satoru envies her for it.

Satoru exhales sharply through his nose, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth as he humors her.

“Of course you do, princess. Alright. Noted. So Santa’s supposed to bring your mom cookies. What else?”

Haru’s face lights up as another thought strikes her, and she bounces slightly in place.

“Oh! A teddy bear!”

“A teddy bear?” Satoru quirks a brow, half-amused, half-resigned.

“Yeah!” Haru stretches her arms out as wide as they’ll go, as if trying to contain the sheer size of her vision. “A big one. Pink! Really fluffy. Mama can hug it.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. So much for getting a serious answer out of her.

“Okay... so cookies and a big pink bear… anything else?”

Haru pauses again, tapping her chin with her finger like she’s pondering the great mysteries of the cosmos. Then—her eyes go wide, and she gasps, louder this time.

“A pony!”

Satoru stares at her, deadpan. “Really? A pony.”

“Uh-huh!” Haru nods emphatically, little curls bouncing with enthusiasm. “Pink! With sparkles.”

“A… sparkly pink pony?”

“Yes!” She beams, practically vibrating with excitement. “Mama can ride it. I can ride it too. And—and we can give it cookies!”

That does it.

A sharp bark of laughter escapes him before he can stop it, his shoulders shaking as he slumps back against the couch.

With a deep groan, he drags a hand down his face like she’s aged him ten years in two minutes.

He’s getting nowhere.

“Kid… you’re killing me here. Cookies, a teddy bear, and a pony? You’re just listing stuff you want.”

Haru puffs out her cheeks, crossing her arms in protest.

“Nuh-uh! Mama likes ponies. And cookies. And bears.”

Satoru sighs again, tilting his head back against the couch with an exaggerated groan.

This kid.

Her world is so simple—so bright and innocent. Cookies, teddy bears, and ponies.

Haru doesn’t overthink it. She doesn’t make it complicated. To her, happiness is just that—simple.

And maybe… that’s what he needs to remember.

They’re terrible suggestions, but she’s right about one thing: you deserve something really nice. Something that makes you smile—something that feels as bright and simple and warm as Haru’s world.

And if Santa won’t fix it, then damnit, he will.

“Everything okay in here?”

Your voice calls out lightly, followed by the soft clink of mugs. The moment Satoru hears you; he straightens a little, his casual mask snapping back into place.

Stepping in, a tray balances carefully in your hands, three steaming mugs of hot chocolate wobbling precariously as you nudge the door shut with your hip.

The smell hits the room before you do—sweet, rich cocoa laced with the sugary promise of marshmallows—and Satoru thinks that it might as well be magic, with how Haru perks up.

“Mama!” she bounces on her knees so enthusiastically; Satoru thinks it’s a miracle the couch doesn’t catapult her into orbit. “Yay!! Hot cocoa!”

“Mhmm. Hot chocolate delivery!” you announce proudly, lowering the tray onto the coffee table with a dramatic flourish and a smile of pure satisfaction. “Marshmallows included, as requested.”

The soft glow of the Christmas tree dances in your eyes as you kneel in front of Haru, carefully handing her a small mug.

“Two hands, Haru. It’s hot, okay?”

Haru nods solemnly, as if you’ve just bestowed upon her the Holy Grail itself. Her little fingers curl reverently around the mug, and she murmurs softly, “’kay.”

Rising, you hand Satoru his mug next, and he clears his throat—mumbling a quiet “thanks.” When you settle on the couch beside him, he doesn’t miss the way your shoulder brushes against his—your own mug cradled in your hands.

For a moment, it’s calm. The Christmas lights flicker across the room like soft, lazy stars, the cocoa steaming faintly in the air, and Satoru almost lets himself believe this is pure perfection.

But then you ask it.

“And what were you two talking about?” you peer between the two of them with a teasing smile. “I heard lots of giggling.”

Satoru freezes, his mug halfway to his mouth. He’s ready to spin some ridiculous excuse—he’s a master at bullshit, after all—but before he can get the words out, Haru beats him to it.

“We were talking about presents!” Haru announces proudly.

Fuck. That tiny traitor.

Satoru schools his expression, plastering on his best lazy grin as if Haru hasn’t just sold him out for free. He doesn’t need you catching on to the fact that he’s been silently losing his mind trying to figure out what to get you for Christmas.

You arch a brow, amused as you blow lightly on your cocoa.

“Presents, huh? What about presents?”

Haru doesn’t even hesitate. She launches into her list like a kid on a mission.

“Mama, ‘toru is gonna tell Santa we need cookies. And a big pink bear. And a pony!”

Satoru lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, relaxing fractionally against the cushions. Of course. The kid’s list is nonsense—pure, two-year-old chaos—and she’s so earnest about it that you’ll never suspect Satoru was fishing for information.

He’s safe.

“Uh-huh,” you hum, nodding indulgently as you sip your drink. “Sounds like quite the Christmas list, sweetheart. Anything else?”

Satoru almost smiles into his mug. It’s ridiculous how close he was to panicking—there’s no need.

But as Haru stops, her face scrunches in concentration before it lights up again. She looks straight at you, eyes wide and earnest, as she adds brightly:

“And I want a little brother!”

Oh, shit.

Satoru chokes—actually chokes—mid-sip, sputtering and coughing like he’s forgotten how to drink liquid. You don’t fare much better, nearly inhaling your cocoa as your head jerks up, eyes wide as saucers.

“A—what?” you croak.

Satoru’s shoulders shake, one arm flung over his face as he tries to muffle his laughter. It’s no use—his wheezing breaths betray him, and he can’t help but grin through his coughs.

“Haru, kid—”

“A little brother!” Haru repeats, utterly unfazed by the chaos she’s unleashed. Her tiny hands still cradle her mug, looking up at you with innocent conviction. “Santa can bring one. Like how he brings the toys.”

Satoru peeks out from behind his hand, tears pricking the corners of his eyes as his laughter tumbles out in unfiltered bursts.

Oh, this is gold. Pure gold.

You whip your head toward him so fast he thinks you might pull something. Your cheeks are flushed—whether from the cocoa or mortification, he’s not sure—and your glare could cut steel. It would have him worried for his life if it weren’t so damn funny.

“Satoru Gojo, what did you say to her?”

“Me?!” he splutters, desperately trying to get his composure back. He throws his hands up in mock innocence, laughter shaking in his shoulders. “Hey, don’t look at me! That’s all her!”

Haru blinks at the two of you, her expression perfectly innocent.

“Santa brings presents, right? So he can bring a brother. A nice one. And he’ll ride the pony with me.”

Your hand flies to your face, pinching the bridge of your nose as you shake your head, biting back the laughter threatening to spill out.

“Haru… sweetheart, that’s… not how it works.”

“Why not?” she asks, and it’s like she genuinely can’t fathom why Santa wouldn’t pull through on such a reasonable request.

Satoru, finally breathing normally again, leans forward with his elbows on his knees—the smirk on his face nothing short of diabolical.

“Yeah, Mama,” he drawls, dripping with mischief. “Why not?”

Your glare sharpens as you turn toward him. “Do not encourage her.”

“Hey,” he’s utterly unrepentant as he leans back lazily, one arm draped over the back of the couch. “I’m just saying—if Santa’s listening, we wouldn’t want Haru to be disappointed, right?” Tilting his head, he smirks at you. “Looks like Santa’s got his work cut out for him this year.”

You groan, burying your face in your hands as Satoru lets his laughter spill out again, unbothered and thoroughly entertained.

Meanwhile, Haru hums to herself, swinging her legs and sipping her hot chocolate contentedly.

“It’s okay, Mama,” she assures you with a confident nod. “Santa’s magic. He can do it.”

ꨄ

The past few days had been a blur of snow, laughter, and tiny hands tugging Satoru in every direction.

If someone had told Satoru Gojo that he’d spend his holiday season wrangling a two-year-old in the snow and actually enjoying himself, he would’ve laughed them out of the room. But here he was, standing knee-deep in the white fluff while Haru shrieked with glee, launching another snowball his way.

“Take this, ‘Toru!” she cried.

The kid’s aim was absolute trash, her snowballs missing him by a mile, but the way she shrieked with delight when Satoru “pretended” to get hit—well, it made it impossible for him not to play along.

“Kid, you’re ruthless,” he’d groaned dramatically after she tackled him into the snow for the third time.

And then there was you. You—standing off to the side like some winter painting coming to life—warm coffee in hand, wearing that smug smile he couldn’t decide if he wanted to kiss or wipe clean with a snowball.

He swore you’d been the one to tip Haru off about aiming for his knees. Traitor.

The snow had been Haru’s personal playground—and, by extension, his. For days now, his life had been an endless stream of winter chaos: sledding trips that left his muscles aching (Haru’s favorite phrase seemed to be “One more time!”).

Oh, and inside the Gojo estate? More chaos, pure and simple.

Haru’s Christmas cookie baking turned into an all-out war zone—flour dusting the countertops, chocolate chips mysteriously vanishing before they made it into the dough (a crime Satoru was not-so-secretly guilty of), and Haru wearing more icing than she’d used.

Still, the chaos didn’t bother him. He was struck, again and again, by the realization that this—this messy, chaotic, perfect life—was because of you.

And the high-end galas you’d been forced to attend as the faces of the Gojo Corporation—the press, the flashing lights, the constant conversations—all of it felt easier with you beside him.

And you? Well… you carried yourself with a poise that Satoru was genuinely impressed with. But beneath that, he could tell that these past few weeks had taken a toll on you.

You were exhausted.

The late nights catching up on work, the charity events, the endless holiday prep—you hid it well, but Satoru noticed the way your shoulders slumped when you thought no one was looking. The way you sighed as you kicked off your heels by the door.

And it bothered him more than he cared to admit.

It wasn’t just the exhaustion, though. It was this look in your eyes—something wistful, like you were watching all the joy and chaos around you, but holding yourself at a distance.

Satoru didn’t like that. Not one bit.

And still, despite everything, he hadn’t figured out what the hell to get you for Christmas.

The frustration simmered under his skin, gnawing at him whenever he thought about it. You deserved something perfect—something that would remind you how much you were loved. But every time he thought he had it, every idea felt wrong.

Too extravagant, too impersonal, too damn meaningless.

And now, tonight, as he sits at the kitchen table pretending to sip his hot chocolate (while sneaking glances at you sorting through Christmas cards), the idea struck him like a light bulb flickering on.

If he couldn’t figure out the gift just yet, there was one thing he could do.

He could give you a moment. Just one night to breathe—to feel cared for.

Leaning back in his chair, his legs stretch out underneath the table as he watches you—that little furrow of concentration in your brow. You aren’t even faintly aware of how tired you look, or notice when his voice breaks the quiet silence.

“Hey.”

You hum absently, still focused.

“Tomorrow night, don’t make any plans.”

Your gaze lifts, brows raising slightly as suspicion flickers across your face.

“Okay… why?”

“Mmm… ‘cause I’m kidnapping you,” he teases, folding his arms behind his head. “Just dress warm. It’s a surprise.”

That earns him a proper look—you eyeing him skeptically, your lips twitching like you were already fighting back a smile.

Bingo. That’s the look he lives for.

ꨄ

The night air is crisp, biting at his cheeks in a way that’s sharp but oddly pleasant, like winter itself is showing off. Snowflakes drift lazily from the dark sky, glowing gold as they pass through the light of the estate’s lanterns, and the world is blanketed in that perfect kind of quiet—soft, still, almost fragile. A nice kind of quiet.

It’d be perfect, really, if not for the sound of your increasingly dramatic sighs cutting through it.

Satoru tugs his scarf higher around his neck, not because he’s cold—he never seems to feel the cold—but because he’s trying to hide the grin pulling at his lips. He glances over his shoulder to find you trudging through the snow like a grumpy little marshmallow, bundled so thoroughly in your coat and scarf that you look like you’re about to tip over.

“You’re gonna freeze to death if you keep trudging like that,” he calls easily over the snow, making no effort to hide the amusement in his tone.

“I wouldn’t have to trudge if you’d slow down, Gojo,” you snap back, and your exasperation is muffled slightly by the scarf wrapped around your face. “Not everyone has legs like a damn giraffe.”

The laugh he lets out is rich and unbothered, a puff of white against the dark sky. Deliberately, he slows his steps to a near-comical saunter, his boots sinking into the snow with every exaggerated step.

“Better, princess?”

“Barely…” You catch up, though you don’t look particularly grateful about it. “I swear, if you keep dragging me through the Arctic tundra—”

“Oh, come on,” he interrupts, stopping in his tracks. His grin is pure mischief, bright even in the dark. “Where’s your holiday spirit?”

“It died about twenty feet ago,” you mutter, shoulders hunching as you try to burrow deeper into your coat.

He holds out his hand to you with a dramatic flourish, fingers wiggling like he’s offering you salvation itself.

“Here,” his sighs affectionately. “Before you collapse and I have to carry you.”

You stare at his hand for a long moment, clearly torn between taking it and smacking it away. The tension only makes his grin widen.

“C’mon now… you’ll bruise my ego if you say no.”

With a sigh that sounds like a thousand reluctant decisions being made at once, you slip your gloved hand into his. It’s small and warm, even through the layers, and Satoru’s grin falters for just a second when he feels your fingers curl around his.

Did he just get butterflies? That’s dangerous. He’s gotta keep it together.

“Atta girl…” he says softly, a bit too softly for his own comfort. But he covers it up with a gentle tug, pulling you closer as the two of you trudge forward.

The path winds through the trees, the branches drooping under layers of snow. Some of them stretch over the walkway, woven with twinkling lights, so it feels like you’re walking through some kind of enchanted tunnel.

It’s the kind of thing that could make anyone believe in magic, and Satoru would probably be soaking it all in… if he wasn’t so preoccupied with watching you out of the corner of his eye.

Your nose is pink, your cheeks dusted with color from the cold, and there’s a light in your eyes that makes something stir in his chest. He tugs his scarf a little higher, like that’ll help somehow.

Then, just ahead, golden light spills onto the snow. A sleigh comes into view, and Satoru slows his steps as you round the corner and see it.

It’s impressive, even he has to admit. The carriage looks straight out of some over-the-top fairytale, polished black and draped with garlands of evergreen—dusted in fresh snow. Strings of soft golden lights wind along the edges, glowing warmly in the dark.

The horses, two massive creatures with sleek dark coats, stand tall and still, their breath misting in the air. Tiny bells dangle from their bridles, giving a soft jingle every time they shift.

It’s almost too picturesque, like something out of one of those cheesy Christmas movies Satoru always pretends to hate.

He doesn’t look at the sleigh, though. He looks at you.

Your eyes go wide, your mouth parting slightly in surprise, and for a moment, you’re so still he wonders if the cold finally got to you. The snowflakes catch in your hair, the glow of the lights reflecting in your wide-eyed expression, and there it is again—that quiet spark that makes his chest tighten.

“Well?” he breaks the silence with a quiet murmur. “Was it… worth the trek through the Arctic tundra?”

You blink, dragging your gaze away from the sleigh to look at him. There’s something different in your expression now—softer, quieter.

“You did all this?”

He shrugs, slipping his free hand into his coat pocket and forcing a grin onto his face.

“What can I say? I’m a man of many talents.”

“Ridiculous…” you murmur, shaking your head with a faint smile, but there’s no edge to your words. Just that quiet disbelief, like you’re still trying to figure him out.

He gestures to the sleigh with an exaggerated sweep of his hand.

“Well? You gonna stand there and let the snow bury you, or are you getting in?”

The driver steps aside with a polite nod, and Satoru’s already moving to help you—steadying you as you step up into the sleigh, his hand lingering at your waist.

When you settle into the plush seat with a quiet exhale, Satoru’s brain takes a quick pause to tell himself that he’s absolutely screwed.

Because if Satoru thought walking through the snow with your hand in his was dangerous, this is a death blow.

But he still climbs in beside you, moments later—tugging the blanket over your laps as the sleigh jolts softly forward.

The bells chime faintly as the horses’ hooves crunch against the snow. They carry you both down the path, allowing the forest to melt away completely as the sleigh crests a small hill, and suddenly, the town comes into view—a world awash in color and magic.

Lights shimmer from every surface—woven through trees, strung like ribbons between lamp posts, wrapped snug around shopfronts as though the entire place has been dipped in starlight.

Shop windows gleam with warmth, framed by wreaths and garlands dusted with frost, while displays of tiny trains, glowing reindeer, and spinning nutcrackers turn slowly behind the glass.

As the sleigh turns fully onto the main street, Satoru glances at you, and predictably, you’re completely mesmerized.

He knows, because you’ve gone completely still beside him—your breath visible in the cold as you take it all in—and he doesn’t even bother to look at the lights anymore, not when you’re staring at them like you’ve stumbled into a dream.

That glow in your expression—soft and open—that’s what mesmerizes him. And the reflection of the lights in your wide eyes gives him the urge to bottle this moment—keep it tucked in his coat pocket forever, so he can pull it out and look at it whenever the world gets too loud.

The bells from the horses chime softly, blending seamlessly with the hum of life ahead—children laughing, carols echoing, the soft crunch of fresh snow.

But Satoru can’t focus on any of that.

Snowflakes have caught in your hair, little flecks of white like frost spun from the lights above. Your lips, soft and faintly parted, are far too close to his line of sight, and his gaze catches there for longer than it should.

Satoru’s brain is short-circuiting.

He’s never been good at this. Restraint. Holding back. Not when it comes to things he wants, things he craves—and God, does he crave your lips so badly.

You shift slightly, burrowing deeper into his side with a soft hum of contentment that nearly knocks the wind out of him.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” you murmur suddenly, as soft as the snow.

He clears his throat lightly, tipping his head back in a lazy attempt at distraction—trying to focus on literally anything else.

“Yeah… not bad,” his voice carries the faintest edge of smugness. “Bet you’re glad I dragged you out here now.”

You hum softly, a little laugh under your breath.

“Yeah… guess I’ll give you this one.”

But as you shift slightly again, your head tilts, and your gaze lingers on something ahead.

In the square below, a father spins his daughter in his arms as she shrieks with laughter—bright red mittens flailing in the air. The mother stands beside then with a warm soft smile, brushing the snowflakes gently out of the little girl’s hair as she settles still.

It’s simple—a fleeting moment of joy—but Satoru notices the way your expression changes. The glow in your eyes dim, just slightly, fading into something distant, something far away.

He doesn’t like it.

It’s not the first time he’s seen that look either. It’s lingered in your eyes at odd moments during the month when you think he isn’t watching.

“Hey… you okay?”

The question snaps you from whatever memory you’ve fallen into. You blink quickly, turning to him with a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

“What? Oh… yeah. I’m fine.”

It’s a lie. A bad one.

Satoru knows it instantly because your voice wavers, just slightly, and your hands fidget under the blanket like they’re looking for something to hold onto.

He doesn’t push right away. Satoru isn’t great at handling fragile things—he’s all big, teasing words and careless confidence—but seeing this?

You—retreating into yourself, suddenly quiet? Yeah… it never really sits right with him.

“You know…” he starts carefully, voice softening as he watches you, “you’ve already heard all about my old man. But you… you don’t really talk about your family much. What was Christmas like for you growing up?”

The words settle like snow between you—soft, quiet, but heavy. You stiffen slightly.

Fuck. Maybe he’s said too much. Regret flickers in the back of his mind. He’s half-expecting you to deflect.

You hesitate, staring at the lights again as though they’ll save you from answering, and for the first time, Satoru curses those damn Christmas lights. They feel like they’re pulling you away from him.

But then you sigh, and the sound makes something twist low in his chest. It’s too careful. Too practiced.

“Mmm… there’s not much to talk about,” you admit quietly. “My parents weren’t exactly… involved, so Christmas wasn’t really a thing for us.”

Satoru doesn’t say anything right away. He just watches you carefully, like he’s waiting. He knows there’s more, and he’s careful not to push, not yet.

“I used to watch all the Christmas movies, though,” a faint wistful smile tugs at your lips. “The ones where families sat by the fire… wrapping gifts and baking cookies, singing carols together. It felt… magical. Safe. Like they belonged there.”

The smile slips slightly, and Satoru sees the moment the words shift—when they stop being a memory and start being something else entirely.

“But…” your voice dips to a whisper, “Honestly it was like watching through a window. I felt like a spectator. Always outside looking in.”

There it is.

The words hit him square in the chest, sharp and unrelenting, and Satoru hates it. Hates how small you sound when you say it, like you don’t realize how wrong it is for someone like you—you—to feel that way. It makes his jaw tighten, his fingers twitching faintly under the blanket.

“That’s not fair,” he blurts out, faster than he means to. The sharp edge in his voice surprises even him, but he doesn’t care. “I hate it. It’s not right. You shouldn’t have had to feel like that.”

Your head turns slightly, your eyes flicking back to him, startled.

“Satoru—”

“It’s not fair,” he repeats, reining it in slightly this time. He shakes his head, turning to look at you fully now. “And you know what? It’s not like that now. You’ve done the exact opposite.”

You blink again, your brows furrowing faintly.

“What do you mean?”

The surprise on your face makes him huff a quiet laugh. He can’t believe you don’t see it.

“C’mon now sweetheart… I mean, look at Haru.”

Your expression softens at the mention of her, and Satoru feels that familiar twist in his chest—this inexplicable warmth that’s only grown stronger since you and Haru came crashing into his life.

“She’s a happy kid,” he says simply, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You’ve made her a happy kid. Kind of a little terror sometimes—definitely gets that from you—but happy nonetheless.”

You roll your eyes faintly, but there’s a tug at the corner of your mouth that you can’t quite hide.

“Seriously,” he continues, a smirk teasing at his lips now. “That kid lights up at the dumbest stuff—like that ornament she found with the penguin in a Santa hat. You’d think she struck gold. She made me stare at that thing for ten minutes straight.”

You groan, pressing a gloved hand to your face, but there’s a small laugh behind it now.

“She did the same to me.”

Satoru chuckles, low and easy, though his expression softens as he looks at you.

“Because to her, it is magic. You made that happen. You gave her something real, something she’ll hold onto forever. The kind of magic you didn’t have.”

You open your mouth like you want to say something but can’t quite get there yet, and he leans in closer.

“And it’s not just her…” he murmurs hesitantly. “You’ve done that for me too.”

His blue eyes fix on yours with a quiet vulnerability, and your brows furrow faintly as you stare at him.

“What? Really?”

For a moment, Satoru freezes.

Vulnerability isn’t something he’s good at—it doesn’t come naturally to him; he’s always kept people at arm’s length. But somehow, around you, it slips out easier than he expects. Like you’ve managed to dismantle his walls one smile, one moment at a time.

Around you, he doesn’t have to try so hard. And it’s fucking terrifying.

His throat tightens, but he shrugs, playing it off like it’s nothing—even though he knows it’s everything.

“Look… I used to sit in these massive rooms my dad filled with people. All the decorations, all the noise—he made sure it looked perfect. Trees the size of small buildings, tables stacked with enough food to feed an army.”

Satoru pauses, his blue gaze flickering to the snow-dusted path ahead before settling back on you.

“But… none of it mattered. I’d sit there, surrounded by hundreds of people, and still felt so damn alone. Like I wasn’t really there, y’know?”

Your face softens, and he feels it again—that warmth that only seems to exist when you’re looking at him like this, like you can see straight through him. You always do.

“But now?” he exhales, breath curling into the cold air like smoke—his eyes meeting yours fully. “Christmas feels… different. Doesn’t feel so empty anymore.”

“…yeah?”

“Yup…” he shakes off the tension with a sigh, and smugly adds, “You’ve officially ruined Christmas for me, sweetheart. Thanks a lot. Can’t have it any other way now.”

Your laughter comes quietly, and God, there’s that sound that he loves again. Your gloved hand finds his underneath the blanket.

“Well…” your fingers curl around his. “Thanks to you, I finally don’t feel like a spectator anymore… ‘cause you’re in my life.”

Shit.

Satoru swears his heart trips over itself. For a guy who never feels the cold, he’s never felt this warm.

The sleigh jolts suddenly, rolling over a bump in the snow, and the movement sends you swaying against him with a soft gasp.

You’re so close—close enough that he can see the faint blush on your cheeks, the soft part of your lips as you glance up at him.

Your gaze flickers—just once—down to his mouth.

That’s it.

He leans in, his hand slipping out from under the blanket to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing softly along your skin as he kisses you.

The first press of his lips against yours is careful, tentative, but then you sigh softly, tilting your head slightly, and Satoru’s restraint snaps like a wire pulled too tight.

The kiss deepens, slow but deliberate, as Satoru tilts your face up to meet him properly. His other hand finds your waist, the curve of it fitting perfectly under his palm as he pulls you closer—closer, because he needs you like he needs to breathe.

He swears he’s losing his mind.

You respond just as eagerly, your fingers curling into the front of his coat, and Satoru groans softly against your mouth—equal parts relief and desperation.

He’s screwed. Utterly, completely screwed.

Because now that he’s kissed you, he doesn’t know how the hell he’s supposed to stop. All he can think about—all he wants—is to pull you into his lap right here on this stupid sleigh and kiss you until the world stops spinning.

His mind betrays him, flooding with images he has no business thinking about right now. Your legs straddling his hips, your coat slipping off one shoulder, coaxing sounds from you that he’s dying to hear—fuck he’s losing himself completely.

He wants to take you—away from the prying world, away from everyone—somewhere that’s just the two of you—home.

When he finally pulls back, it’s only because even Satoru Gojo can’t survive without air forever. But he doesn’t go far. His forehead rests gently against yours and his thumb brushes softly along your jaw.

The corner of your mouth curves faintly and your eyes linger on him—just enough to make his heart skip like it’s forgotten how to work.

It’s torture. Absolute, pure, devastating torture.

His thumb drifts lower along your jaw, reverently tracing the soft line of it. He could stay here forever, just like this—your breath mixing with his in the cold air, your lips pink and kiss-bruised from him.

God, you’ve never looked more beautiful. He wants more.

Shifting slightly, his breath fans across your lips as he murmurs, “You’re so perfect… you’re making this really hard for me, y’know that?”

Blinking up at him, your lips tug into a soft, teasing smile. “Oh?” you murmur, breathlessly. “And what exactly am I making hard, Satoru?”

His breath hitches. Shit. You’re going to be the death of him. He chuckles softly—strained and fraying like his self-control.

“Careful, sweetheart. Keep asking questions like that, and I might just take you home right now.”

Tilting your head, your voice lowers—a quiet challenge.

“…why don’t you, then?”

God, what the fuck are you doing to him?

For a moment, he wants to say screw it. Forget the stupid sleigh, the town, his plans. Forget the world and take you straight to bed where he doesn’t have to hold back anymore.

Take her. Have her all to yourself.

But then your wide, daring eyes lock onto his, and it hits him—you’re playing him—you’re winning. And Satoru Gojo does not lose.

With a slow, shaky breath, he pulls back just slightly. The smirk curling at his lips is lazy, practiced—masking the fact that he’s literally about five seconds from falling apart.

“Mmm… tempting,” he drawls, brushing the pad of his gloved thumb against your bottom lip. “But I’m not that easy to break, sweetheart. Besides, we’ve got more to explore.”

Your eyes narrow faintly, suspicion flickering beneath the teasing curve of your lips.

“You’re unbelievable…”

“Mm, you say that now,” he sighs, “But you’ll thank me later.”

You scoff quietly, rolling your eyes as you lean back just an inch.

“More to explore, huh?”

“Yeah.” His grin widens, lazy and lopsided. “And if you’re good, I might even let you hold my hand the whole time.”

ꨄ

“You’re going to rot your teeth, you know,” you say, watching as Satoru unwraps yet another snickerdoodle cookie—his fifth, by your count.

“Excuse you.” He pauses dramatically, holding the cookie up like it’s a priceless artifact. “I’m single-handedly funding this poor vendor’s retirement. Call me generous.”

You snort into your hot chocolate.

“More like you’re single-handedly making sure they run out of stock before dinner.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He takes a slow, deliberate, obnoxiously loud bite, eyes locked on you the whole time. “I’m boosting the economy, sweetheart.”

“You’re boosting your dentist’s next paycheck, honey.”

Satoru groans, tossing his head back like you’ve just deeply insulted his honor.

“You wouldn’t understand. You don’t appreciate the artistry of sweets like I do.”

“Oh, I appreciate them,” you retort smugly, tugging him away by his coat sleeve before he can eye the next vendor’s table. “I just don’t inhale sugar like I’m storing it for winter.”

“Amateur,” Satoru quips, biting into the cookie with dramatic flair. “You’ll learn.”

“Yeah yeah… I’m cutting you off before you go into a sugar coma.”

“Cutting me off?” He presses a hand to his chest like you’ve insulted his entire existence. “Sweetheart, you wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, I would,” You grin victoriously, striding ahead of him through the snow-dappled streets.

“Cold. Heartless. A tyrant, really.” Satoru’s voice follows dramatically as he trudges after you, shoving the final bite into his mouth with zero shame. “This is abuse, I tell you.”

“You’ll live.”

“Barely.”

The two of you wander together through the town, your shoulders brushing every so often as you pass small stalls and shops.

The shop windows glow faintly, wreaths and garlands framing every corner, and the air smells of roasted chestnuts and warm cinnamon.

You stop suddenly ahead of him, your steps faltering as your gaze locks onto the massive Christmas tree at the center of the square.

Satoru follows your gaze, and the thing is ridiculous—exactly the kind of over-the-top nonsense Satoru’s father would brag about back in the day. Towering, glittering, competing with the stars like it thinks it has a chance.

But for once, Satoru doesn’t care about the ridiculousness. He only cares about you.

You stand perfectly still, staring up at the tree with something quiet and awed in your expression, like you’ve forgotten the rest of the world exists.

The golden lights catch in your eyes, snowflakes drifting lazily into your hair, and the faintest pink lingers across your cheeks from the cold. You’re glowing—and maybe it’s the lights, or maybe it’s just you.

You look perfect. You look his.

There’s that urge again—capturing this moment, bottling in up, keeping it for himself.

The feeling is so sudden, and before he can second-guess it, his hand slips into his coat pocket, pulling out his phone.

The shutter clicks.

Your head whips around instantly, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

“Did you just take a picture of me?”

Satoru freezes, phone still half-raised, trying to look as nonchalant as a man caught red-handed can. “Nope.”

Your eyes narrow further, shifting on your feet. “Satoru.”

“I was… texting someone,” he says weakly, his grin betraying him.

“Texting who?” you press, eyebrow arching.

“Santa,” he deadpans. “Telling him you’re being mean to me. Again.”

The flat look you give him is priceless. “Good lord. You’re impossible.”

Satoru grins triumphantly, twirling the phone between his fingers like a magician showing off a trick. “Fine, fine. You caught me. I couldn’t help it. You looked cute.”

The faint flush of your cheeks deepens slightly—probably the cold, he tells himself, but he’ll take it anyway.

“Let me see it.”

“Not a chance.”

Your glare sharpens, and Satoru swears you’re plotting his demise. “Satoru. Hand it over.”

He snorts, immediately shoving the phone into his coat pocket. “You’re cute when you’re bossy, you know that?”

You step closer, determination lighting your expression. “I will fight you.”

“You wanna wrestle me in the middle of town?” Satoru raises a smug brow, delighting in the way you’re glaring up at him. “With kids around? Heartless, sweetheart. Absolutely heartless.”

Before you try to snatch his phone from his coat pocket, he moves faster—his arm looping lazily around your waist, tugging you into his side with practiced ease.

The suddenness knocks you off balance for a moment, and you let out a soft, startled laugh. Satoru can’t help but grin, using the moment to pull you even closer.

“Alright, alright…” he murmurs, pulling out his phone. “Here. Let’s take one together. Our first real photo together—no work, no press. Just you and me.”

You blink, your eyes flickering up to meet his, the faintest surprise crossing your face. “Really?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs like it’s nothing, though the warmth in his voice gives him away. “Gotta document the occasion. Might be the only proof I have that you tolerate me. C’mon, lean in.”

You roll your eyes, though there’s no hiding your smile as you let him pull you closer. He adjusts the camera, keeping his arm secure around you.

“Alright,” he says, angling the phone just right. “Say ‘Gojo Satoru’s the love of my life.’”

You snort, laughing as you nudge him. “I’m not saying that.”

“Mmm… I’ll wait.”

Your laughter bursts through the square, bright and unrestrained, just as the shutter clicks. Before you can recover, Satoru leans in, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek as he steals another shot—your laughter caught mid-breath.

“Hey!” you yelp, pulling back to glare at him, but you’re still smiling.

Satoru grins down at the photo as he flips the screen to show you. “Look at that. Photographic evidence that you adore me.”

You gape at him, incredulous. “Adore you?”

“Yep.” He winks, tucking his phone back into his pocket before you can swipe it, catching your hand instead. “Captured for infinity. You’re welcome.”

Your grip tightens on instinct, and you open your mouth to argue, but Satoru beats you to it.

“C’mon,” he swings your hand lightly as he starts pulling you forward again. “The candy stall up ahead has fudge.”

ꨄ

The two of you wander back through the streets, hand in hand as the shops blur by in warm, golden streaks of light.

Satoru doesn’t mind wandering—especially when it means you tugging him along by the hand, pausing every so often to peer into window displays. It’s cute, he thinks, the way you light up at the smallest things.

But then you stop abruptly in front of one shop in particular.

It’s so sudden that Satoru nearly keeps walking, your hand tugging him gently to a halt. When he glances over, he follows your gaze straight to the window of an antique shop tucked snug between two cafes.

And there it is. The locket.

It rests beneath a glass dome, perched on velvet as though it’s worth more than the shop itself. The silver surface gleams faintly under the soft, golden light, delicate and timeless, and engraved across the front is an infinity symbol—curved and flowing endlessly into itself.

Satoru tilts his head slightly, his brows lifting in quiet curiosity as he watches you stare at it—as if that locket holds the entire universe within it.

“See something you like?” he murmurs, looping his arms around your waist and pulling you gently into his chest.

He feels the way you relax into him almost immediately, your hands curling lightly around his forearms.

“Infinity…” you whisper.

He hums, burying his face into the curve of your neck, nuzzling there like he’s trying to steal the warmth of you.

“Hmm?”

You don’t answer right away, your gaze still locked on the locket. Satoru takes the opportunity to press a lazy kiss against the soft skin of your neck, his lips curving into a grin when he feels you shiver slightly beneath him.

“What’s got you so lost in there, huh?” he teases.

“Hmm? Oh…” You blink, your cheeks tinged faintly pink as you glance back at him. “I was just thinking about what you said. About infinity.”

He raises a brow now, a slow grin spreading across his face as he straightens just enough to nudge his chin toward the locket.

“Yeah? You been pondering the mysteries of the universe without me?”

You turn slightly in his arms, your gaze lifting to meet his, and for a moment, the world narrows to just the two of you.

“Well,” you begin, smiling faintly, “I’ve been thinking… you’re… well, you’re kind of like infinity, aren’t you?”

Satoru blinks, his grin faltering for a split second.

“Me?”

“Yeah… you’re always moving, always bigger than life, like there’s no end to who you are. You don’t stop—don’t ever really slow down. You’re... limitless.”

For once, Satoru’s brain stalls. Completely. He’s torn between a smug She thinks about me like that? and the sudden ache in his chest that he doesn’t know what to do with.

He sees the way you’re looking at him—soft, honest, like you’re laying something fragile and important at his feet—and it hits him harder than anything he’s prepared for.

Satoru tightens his hold on you, pulling you closer as though that’ll somehow ground him.

“You really think that?” A softness creeps into his voice. “That I remind you of infinity?”

You nod slowly, your fingers curling into the fabric of his coat. Your gaze drops for a moment before lifting again, steady this time.

“Yeah… because no matter what... you’ll always protect me. You’ll always be here, won’t you? Like infinity. Always.”

Satoru’s breath catches. For once, he doesn’t have a clever comeback. He doesn’t have anything except this overwhelming, all-consuming feeling swelling in his chest.

He dips his head, brushing his lips softly against your forehead. It’s the only answer he has.

“Mhmm,” he murmurs quietly. “Always.”

For a moment, he lingers there, his forehead pressed to yours, your breath mingling in the cold. Then, with a small grin tugging at his lips, he pulls back slightly, arms still secure around you.

“C’mon,” he sighs affectionately. “There’s still fudge with my name on it.”

You let out a soft laugh, your hand slipping back into his as he tugs you gently forward. But as you fall into step beside him, Satoru’s gaze drifts back to the shop window, to the locket resting beneath the glass.

Infinity, huh?

The faintest smile plays on his lips as he squeezes your hand lightly. He finally knows what he’s getting you for Christmas.

ꨄ

For Satoru, Christmas morning felt… surreal.

The Gojo estate, usually silent and polished like a showroom, had transformed into something far more, filled with a warmth—Haru’s delighted squeals echoing down the halls, filling the empty spaces with pure, unfiltered joy.

“Mama! ‘Toru! Wake up! Hurry, hurry!”

Her voice carries like a one-person parade, punctuated by the rapid thump of her tiny feet sprinting towards the tree, and Satoru groans into his pillow—dragging a hand over his face as if that would erase the early hour.

The sun wasn’t even properly up yet, and here he was, reluctantly dragged from the cocoon of his bed by the infectious energy of a two-year-old.

He shuffled down the hall in his pajama pants and hoodie, stifling a yawn as he dragged a hand through his sleep-mussed hair.

Rounding the corner, he caught sight of Haru—a blur of bedhead and reindeer pajamas, arms flailing as she skidded to a halt in front of the Christmas tree. Her tiny hands clapped together as her wide eyes took in the mountain of carefully wrapped presents beneath it, glittering under the soft glow of twinkling lights.

“Mama! ‘Toru! Look! Presents!!” she squeals, bouncing on her toes, so full of excitement that Satoru half-expects her to rocket straight into the air.

He leans lazily against the doorframe, watching her with an amused grin. This kid… she was like a wound-up toy, running purely on joy and Christmas spirit. It tugged at something in him—a place he didn’t even realize had been empty until now.

“How does she have this much energy so early in the morning?” he mutters, glancing over his shoulder just as you appeared behind him.

You looked impossibly cozy—wrapped in your pajamas, your hair tousled from sleep. In your hands were two steaming mugs of coffee, one of which you handed to him without a word.

“She’s almost three,” you say simply, a knowing smile tugging at your lips. “And it’s Christmas. Welcome to parenthood. This is her prime time.”

“Prime time for chaos,” he quips, taking a careful sip of his coffee.

He shoots Haru a mock-suspicious glance as she darts around the tree—tiny hands hovering over the presents like she’s trying to decide where to start.

“You sure Santa didn’t slip her a double espresso in her stocking?”

Your laugh is quiet and warm, the kind that made the corners of his mouth tug upward instinctively, and he couldn’t help but think how ridiculously domestic this all felt—Haru bouncing by the tree, you standing beside him with that soft, sleepy glow.

It was almost unsettling how much he liked it… how much he cherished it.

His gaze shifts back to Haru, who was now crouched in front of the tree, examining the tags on the presents like a tiny detective—a kind of joy so radiant it made something tighten in Satoru’s chest.

It hit him then—here he was, watching Haru’s eyes light up with the same wonder he never got to feel growing up. His Christmases had always been all flash and no magic. Gilded parties, perfectly wrapped gifts that lacked thought, and a cold sort of extravagance that filled rooms but never hearts.

But this?

This was different. Seeing Haru’s excitement now felt like reclaiming something he didn’t even know he’d lost.

“Mama! ‘Toru!” Haru’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts as she holds up a box triumphantly. “Look! Look! For me!”

“Man, Santa really outdid himself this year,” Satoru drawls, stretching an arms over his head as he plops onto the couch beside you.

He made a show of sipping his coffee like he hadn’t been the one painstakingly arranging the presents under the tree just hours earlier.

You’d handed him ribbons to tie, smirking as he fumbled with the tape, and rolled your eyes as he huffed about how ‘unnecessarily complicated’ wrapping paper was.

And then there’d been the cookies and hot chocolate Haru had left out for Santa, which he devoured with exaggerated flair. You’d caught him red-handed, crumbs still on his face, and he grinned sheepishly, muttering something about how Santa worked hard and deserved a snack.

It had been... nice. Warm. Like stepping into a life he always thought was meant for other people, not him.

But Haru?

She didn’t care about Satoru’s epiphanies. She was too busy shredding wrapping paper like her life depended on it.

The morning quickly descended into a delightful chaos—a whirlwind of torn ribbons, squeals of delight, and an ever-growing pile of toys. Haru didn’t just open her gifts; she paraded each one around the room like a prized trophy.

A dollhouse, a pink fluffy stuffed bear (that was for you, right?), and a set of art supplies. Every present came with an enthusiastic ‘Mama, look!’, making you laugh while Satoru grinned like an idiot.

And his attention… well, it kept drifting back to you.

The way you tucked your legs beneath yourself on the couch, leaning slightly into his shoulder as you sipped your coffee. The way your eyes softened whenever Haru ran to you, clutching another gift—her excitement bubbling over.

The way the light from the tree caught in your hair, making you look like you belonged in this moment… more than anything else ever had.

“Mama, look!” Haru gasps yet again, holding up a small box wrapped in gold paper. “Santa didn’t forget you!”

You blink, momentarily startled, as she thrusts the box into your hands before darting back to the tree—already rummaging for her next gift with boundless energy. Your gaze, however, shifts toward Satoru, narrowing with playful suspicion.

“Oh really?” you arch an eyebrow, grinning.

Satoru scratches the back of his head, feigning nonchalance even as a smug grin begins to tug at the corners of his mouth.

“Don’t look at me,” he shrugs. “That’s between you and Santa. Guy’s always been a softie for you.”

Rolling your eyes, you turn your attention to the package, peeling back the carefully wrapped paper to reveal a small rosewood box.

The craftsmanship immediately catches your eye—with rich, dark wood, smooth to the touch. Two turtle doves are etched with breathtaking detail across the lid—wings entwined in a delicate dance of devotion. As you trace the design with your fingertips, the doves seem to almost flutter underneath—a stunning work of art.

And as you lift the lid, your breath hitches.

Nestled inside is the platinum heart-shaped locket, glinting under the soft glow of the Christmas tree. Encircling the heart is a delicate band of diamonds, each stone catching light like tiny frozen stars. And there, at the center of the locket’s face, is that infinity emblem you know so well—etched with graceful precision.

Your breath catches—your chest tightening as you carefully lift the locket from its velvet cradle. The weight of it is delicate yet grounding in your palm.

“Satoru…” you murmur in awe.

Beside you, he nudges your shoulder gently—his grin softening into something quieter, something more vulnerable.

“Open it.”

With careful fingers, you undo the clasp, and the locket falls open, revealing the secret it holds.

On one side was the photo he’d snapped of the two of you in the town square—you laughing, your cheeks pink from the cold, while he pressed a kiss to your cheek with that obnoxiously smug grin.

On the other side was another photo—one you hadn’t even known he’d taken—a candid shot of you and Haru in the kitchen, flour dusting your nose as you helped her decorate cookies.

Your smiles were radiant, unguarded, and completely at ease.

For a moment, you just stare, your lips parting slightly as you tried to form words. Satoru leans closer, his hand brushing lightly over your shoulder.

“You said… infinity reminded you of me,” he says quietly. “So… I thought maybe this could remind you of us.”

Your eyes lift to meet his, shimmering with an emotion so raw and overwhelming it makes him hold his breath. Then, without a word, you reach up, cup his face with both hands, and kiss him.

It’s soft, deliberate, and unhurried—the kind of kiss that makes him feel like maybe the universe doesn’t have to be so vast and infinite. Not when it can be filled with moments like this.

Before he can fully bask in the moment, Haru’s delighted squeal cuts through the air like a firework.

“Mama! Look! A big one!”

Satoru turns to see her tiny hands tugging at a large, carefully wrapped box partially hidden behind the tree. She tries to drag it forward, but honestly the box is way bigger than her.

You laugh softly, already stepping up from your seat to guide her hands away.

“Oh… that one’s not for you, sweetheart. It’s for Satoru.”

Satoru blinks, caught off guard. For him?

He doesn’t even have time to process it before Haru’s face twists into the most dramatic pout he’s ever seen—complete with trembling lips and misty eyes. She crosses her arms like she’s about to stage a sit-in protest right then and there.

“What? No fair!”

Satoru chuckles, setting his coffee mug aside as he pushes himself up from the couch with an exaggerated groan.

“Alright, alright,” he ruffles Haru’s hair as he crouches beside her. “How about this? You help me open it, and I’ll share whatever’s inside. Deal?”

Haru’s pout vanishes like snow in the sun, replaced by a radiant grin as she nods enthusiastically.

“Okay!”

With Haru leading the charge, they attack the wrapping paper like a two-person wrecking crew. Satoru makes a big show of struggling with the ribbon, grunting and pretending to pull with all his strength. Haru giggles at his theatrics, and finally, the last shred of paper falls away.

As the box opens, Satoru stills.

Inside is a telescope—sleek and polished to perfection. His hand trails over the smooth surface, and suddenly he was eight years old again, lying on his back in the garden with a telescope propped on the grass, mapping constellations under a vast, endless sky.

But then, his eyes widen as his fingers brush across something etched on its side. Engraved with precision, is the constellation Lyra—the harp.

Satoru knows enough about stars to understand its meaning. Lyra represents love, devotion, and music. It’s the constellation of Orpheus and Eurydice—a love story as infinite as the stars themselves.

For a long moment, all he can do is stare, his thumb brushing lightly over the engraving as if to ground himself. He doesn’t even realize he’s holding his breath until your voice pulls him back.

“You recognize it?” you ask softly.

He glances up at you, the grin on his face softening into something quieter, something real.

“Mhmm... It’s Lyra.”

You step closer, the faintest hint of nerves in the way you tug at the hem of your pajama sleeve.

“I thought… I thought you’d like an upgrade…” you say shyly, “You love the stars, and I thought you deserved something that made you feel… closer to them.”

Satoru’s throat tightens, and he can’t speak right away, but before he even has the chance to, Haru tugs at his sleeve impatiently, breaking the moment.

“What is it? What is it?” she demands, eyes wide with curiosity.

Satoru lets out a breathless laugh, pulling her onto his lap as he turns the telescope slightly so she can see.

“This, my little star, is how we can see the sky up close. The stars, the moon, even planets if we’re lucky.”

Her eyes widen. “The stars? I wanna see the stars ‘toru!”

“Okay, princess. Tonight, I’ll show you the whole sky.”

“Yay!!” Haru gleams, bouncing on his lap.

Satoru chuckles, steadying her with one arm, but as Haru chatters away, his gaze drifts back to you.

You’re standing quietly a few steps away, watching the scene unfold with that soft, knowing smile that always makes his heart trip over itself. The glow of the Christmas tree casts a faint halo around you, and for a moment, Satoru wonders how he ever existed without this—without you.

Wordlessly, he tilts his head, beckoning you closer. When you step forward, his free arm slips around your waist, pulling you gently down to sit next to him.

He doesn’t say anything at first. Instead, he leans in, pressing a kiss to your temple, then your cheek, then finally your lips—slow, unhurried, and laced with everything he can’t quite put into words.

When he pulls back, his forehead rests lightly against yours.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

It’s not just for the telescope. It’s for this moment, for this morning, for you. Your fingers trail softly over his cheek, and he swears you’re glowing.

“Merry Christmas, Satoru…” you murmur quietly.

“Merry Christmas… sweetheart.”

There’s a warmth in your eyes that feels like home, and for the first time in his life, he understands what it means to be content.

This—this moment, this family, this love—it’s everything. It’s infinite.

And as the three of you sit there, bathed in the glow of the Christmas tree, Satoru realizes something he’s never dared to believe.

He finally belongs.

a/n. i got in my feels writing this. as someone who struggles around the holidays, this was real cathartic to write. hope you guys have an incredible holiday season with the ones you love—thanks for reading, sending hugs! ♡

taglist:

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

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

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

@sebastianlover @blueberrysungie @kalulakunundrum @doireallyhavetonamthis @lingophilospher

@ichikanu @artist1936 @christiancj27 @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 @illianasa @pinksaiyans @gojoslefttoenail

749 notes · View notes

stevieschrodinger · 7 months ago

Text

This is not how Steve wanted to spend his afternoon.

Actually, he’s found himself doing a lot of things he hasn't wanted to since Starcourt burned down but, honestly, this is probably right up there.

God it’s disgusting.

But he had to try. All the kids had looked at him with their stupid hang dog faces, so he said he’d try. Which is why he’s at lovers lake, freezing his ass off in the water and nipple deep into the shrubbery, ripping slimy crappy weeds and grass out of the muddy lake bed.

At least Robin got in with him. She’s shivering in her bathing suit, but she’s gamely holding onto the cooler as it floats in the water, so at least there’s that.

The bin full Upside Down vines next to the tank hadn't made much sense at the time, but it became apparent pretty fucking fast when the fish creature in Steve’s pool hadn’t eaten for forty eight hours, and Steve was now, finally, sober enough and not concussed enough to put two and two together.

Hopefully this works though; all the kids have, obviously, become immediately like, fucking pack bonded with the thing. Man. Fish Man.

El and Max keep insisting he’s a mermaid – Merman? Merdude? - like he’s something out of a fairy tail and is all magical and shit.

Steve takes a breath and ducks down again, having felt something hairy and frond like with his exploring toes.

“You think this is enough? Like as a fair test?” Robin rocks the half full cooler forward and Steve peeks in.

And alright, Steve just doesn’t want to fucking be here at all, so he says, “yep, looks good,” as they share a lightly guilty look.

It might not work at all, of course, so their wanting to give up is legitimate. They can always come back when it’s warmer if the fish man does eat this shit.

He certainly isn’t interested in the raw fish the kids have been trying to feed him – Steve’s going to be eating fish for a fucking month with what’s in his freezer now, and don’t those reprobates realize the price of fucking prawns??

The fish man wasn’t interested in meat either, not raw, not cooked – even though Dustin insisted that because of his ‘forward facing eyes’, ‘claws,’ and ‘slightly pointed teeth,’ he must be a predator Steve! The vines must have just been for, in his tank, or whatever, Steve!

Whatever.

Steve’s here to prove them wrong, and Robin’s backing him up.

The kids have gone home when they get back, which is a fucking relief. Even with the heaters in the car on full, Steve still feels cold in his bones. His skin warm and tingly, but the shivers still locked inside; him and Robin head for separate bathrooms without even really talking about it, fishboy has survived this long, he can do another twenty minutes.

Steve finds the biggest sting of kelpy weedy seaweedy stuff from the lake, and drags the tip of it in the pool. It’s dark out, the light from in the house reflecting on the surface of the pool, making it impossible to see where the creature might be hiding; until he disturbs the surface, a few seconds later.

Steve splashes the end in the water, “here fishy fishy fishy.”

“Steve,” Robin elbows him.

“What, it’s not like he has a name,” Steve doesn’t look at her though, he’s watching that strange pair of eyes come closer. They reflect the light strangely, like a wild animal in the headlights. His dark hair is plastered to the top of his head, being wet, and everything else is submerged.

Steve knows he can breathe fine for at least an hour out of the water though; that’s how long the rescue took. And then the bathtub; he was fine in there for a day while they drained the pool of chlorinated water and refilled it with fresh. And it was easy enough to get him in there; if he was human, Steve would say that fish dude was starving to death. Concave stomach, all his ribs clearly visible, pale flesh pulled too tight over the knobs of his spine. Steve had lifted him easily, the sad curl of his dull black tail hardly adding any weight to him. He felt frail, breakable; like a bird.

If there’s any lingering chemical in there, it doesn’t seemed to have hurt fishguy, but then a creature from the upside down must be tolerant to plenty, Steve thinks, imagining the constant fall of ashy dust from the dark sky.

The creature cautiously approaches, and when he’s near enough, there’s a gentle tug on the weed, like the most cautious of bites on a line. Steve lets go, and both fish guy and weed disappear under the water.

“Do you think it worked?” Robin whispers, like they’re viewing a skittish wild animal. Which, they kind of are.

“Don’t know,” Steve whispers back, unable to stop himself. There’s just something about someone whispering to you that’s irresistible; it’s like an unavoidable instinct to follow suit.

“How will we know if it’s worked?”

“Dunno. Try another? See if he takes it?” Steve’s just about to break open the cooler again when the head pops up. All of it, this time.

He has dark hair. So dark it looks black; thick and ropey, it kind of reminds Steve of the vines of the upside down. His face is...pretty much human; just very pale. When he’s got his mouth shut, hiding the slight point of those teeth, nothing would give him away.

He lifts a hand out of the water, offering something to Steve who, gingerly but reflexively, takes it.

It’s the stalk of the weed. The leaves are gone, and the fleshy green of the outside has been carefully stripped off; use for those pointy teeth. Steve guesses all the plant material of the upside down is actually probably quite sturdy and quite hard to eat. It probably also has the nutritional value of wet cardboard.

Steve offers another weed, and the fish dude doesn’t leave this time. Steve watches as he eats; quick, practiced movements, trimming leaves with his claws, rolling them, eating them, then just as Steve suspected, using his sharp teeth to strip the outer stalk of all it’s fleshy wet goodness.

Steve doesn’t shudder at the thought of the mud at the bottom of Lovers Lake.

“Steve one, Henderson zero,” Robin says quietly, the fish man tipping his head to the side, as if he’s listening. Steve’s seen it a lot, the amount that the kids chatter at him, but the fish guy tends to stay at the other end of the pool to them. Watching. Nervous, and frightened, if Steve had to put a label on it.

But then, wouldn’t anyone be? Stolen from your world by unrecognizable creatures in hazmat suits. Shoved in a tank. Probably experimented on.

The whole thing sounds shitty.

Steve offers another weed, and the fish guy repeats the process, floating closer still, “Robin, humor me, go and see what’s in the crisper drawer.”

She follows his logic immediately, “on it.”

Steve watches the creature, the fish man, and the fish man watches Robin warily, moving away from the edge again a little, but coming back when Steve offers another frond.

He takes it, strips it, hands it back.

“We need a name for you man, I can’t just keep calling you ‘fish dude’ and ‘creature’ in my head.”

Steve looks over at the house, figuring he has another minute before Robin comes back, he taps the middle of his chest, fishguys strangely gimlet eyes tracking to movement from his too thin face, “Steve.”

Nothing. He tries again, pointing to himself and tapping, “Steve,” and then pointing to the creature, trying to get him to understand.

Fish guy swims a little closer, raising a hand out of the water. Steve sees the stubby but pointy black claws, like little ovals on the end of his fingers. His webbed fingers, Steve sees next, webbing stretched between them up to the first knuckle. He hesitates for a moment, but Steve doesn’t move, wanting to see where this is going.

Fish guy points cautiously at the center of Steve’s chest, close but not touching, lifting far enough out of the water to reveal protruding collar bones. He opens his mouth, and Steve watches with baited breath, fish guy frowning like he’s concentrating, such a human emotion on his face.

Footsteps, then, and he drops back into the water, backing away into the middle of the pool, sinking down so only his eyes are visible. Steve remembers to breathe; he’s not imagining it, something was about to happen. But he can try again tomorrow, once Robin has gone.

“I got some lettuce and some frozen peas,” she whisper hisses at him as she sits again, handing them over.

“Gimme the lettuce,” that seems like the next nearest thing to Steve.

Part two

#eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie #steddie ficlet #mermaid au #mermaid eddie #creature eddie munson #steddie fic #pre steddie #mermeddie #upside down creature eddie

2K notes · View notes

docdudo · 2 months ago

Text

Familiar 141 - Young Witch!Reader (Part 2)

“Aww, look at these sparks…” Gaz coos gently, watching your scared little figure curled up in the back of the nest as you try your best to use your magic to keep them away. “For a baby witch? Isn’t that just precious?”

A heavy grunt scares you enough for your magic to just die right then and there, your head whipping to the side where the big bastard of a familiar was sitting. His body looked completely relaxed, arms crossed and eyes focused on your little form curled against the wall.

“Careful, little witch,” Ghost warns, voice low and heavy, making you just stare at him with even more terror. “Might get hurt.”

“Ow, just let the lassie get everything out, she’s scared.” Soap smiles big, laying down on his belly, looking up at you with both hands holding his head up like a teenage girl in love or something.

He was so close to your curled-up legs too, almost asking for a kick in his face.

“We’re such good familiars, baby. No need to try to harm us,” Gaz coos again, crawling a little closer to your little form.

His movement was enough to startle you, magic immediately coming to life as your hands sparked hot red for a second.

Only to die right away thanks to big, warm hands enveloping your little ones and forcing your magic down easily.

“Our strong baby witch,” Ghost rumbles in an animalistic way, his giant hands holding yours close to his chest now that he was by your side. “It’s okay, calm yourself. You can get hurt like this, darlin’.”

“M-My magic…!” you manage to exclaim, a mix of indignation and fear as you look up at his face with big, wide eyes.

“No guidance, no preparation, no form.” Price’s voice immediately alerts you, making you look at the end of the room where the oldest familiar was quietly preparing something on that stupid high table of his. “It is pretty incredible that you have such high-level magic for a baby witch with no Coven, but it’s not good to try and use your magic at any given time like this.”

“I-I can use—I know how to use my magic…!” you protest slightly, now more indignant than anything else, little hands still stuck in the bigger familiar’s grasp.

You pretend not to notice the way he was rubbing your hands gently, not letting go.

“Never said you couldn’t, doll,” Price smirks a little as he spares you a glance from his chair. “Just saying it’s not smart. Might get hurt; even experienced witches lose control of their magic from time to time.”

“And no one’s expecting a baby to have the best control, mo leanbh,” Soap adds, still laying down with a big, dumb smile plastered on his stupid face.

It made you annoyed enough to uncurl one of your legs and… kinda kick his face? Well, not kick, more like push his face to the side as you press your little foot to his cheek. He didn’t seem to mind, though, a stupid grin as he lets you do as you want.

“Such a gentle little witch too…” Gaz mumbles, approaching once again to nuzzle against your side gently. Yeah, no, this jerk has to be a cat or something. “It has been ages since the last time I saw an actual baby witch….”

“They are always so well-hidden deep in Covens. A pity, too, that our last witch dinae take much interest in them.” Soap agrees easily, still not doing anything about your socked foot on his face.

You try to push him more, but he doesn’t really budge.

“Let go,” you grumble at Ghost, trying to free your hands as you glare (such a cute glare, he could look at your baby-ish, cute expression for decades) at him.

“Aww, but baby, what if you try to use your magic again?” And you know the second that you see the pout on Gaz’s lips that he’s mocking you. The audacity…!

“Boys, stop that, you’re going to overwhelm her—“

“G-Get away…!” You raise your voice a bit more, squirming against them, trying to free your hands from the restraining grip and trying to push the face against your foot farther from you.

And then you feel Soap grip your ankle. Gently, but he grips it nonetheless.

And then you’re crying, overwhelmed.

“Oh no, no, no, no, didn’t mean it, lassie!” Soap quickly lets go, getting up on his knees with a worried expression.

Ghost also lets your hands go, almost as if he was burned, and you immediately start to rub your face and eyes, sniffling as you try to contain your tears.

“I’m so sorry, hun, I’m sorry, I was being an asshole, wasn’t I…?” Gaz is also quick to apologize, lowering his body enough to be smaller than you as he bumps his head quietly against your arm, regret written all over his face.

Price lets out a heavy sigh from his chair, rubbing his face with the hand that isn’t working with something on the table.

“I know none of us are used to baby witches, but boys, you have to tone down. She’s not a mature witch; she can’t take your provocations like this.”

“Ah dinae even provoke…!” Soap immediately protests, hands hesitating around you as he tries to calm you down. “Gaz did it…!”

“Oh, shut it, Tav.” He growls quietly, shuffling a bit to your side as you keep sniffling and trying to control your tears.

And then, a black cat jumps onto your lap. A big, fluffy black cat. It confuses you for a second until you remember what familiars are, and you quietly settle down a little, hands hesitantly touching the cat now laying on top of your legs, looking up at you with big, yellow eyes.

The other familiars seem to calm down too as they see you calming down. Ghost is still unmoving by your side, but he doesn’t seem like a ball of anxiety anymore, and Soap also settles down in front of you, sitting on the mattress with a relieved sigh.

“Ghost, Soap, come ‘ere,” Price calls, approaching the nest now with what looks like four gold bands on his hands.

“Oh, we’re doing it already?” Soap asks, eyes big in excitement as he quickly grabs one of the gold bands. “Ah’ll start!”

You watch in almost shock as he quickly slashes a cut on his hand with just his long nails, rubbing his blood over the band before turning to you with a big, delighted grin, his hand coming up to gently, but firmly, pull your right leg closer to him.

“Johnny MacTavish, mah beirn.” And then, the band locks on your ankle, a flash of light blinding you for a second, your magic twisting inside of you in response to what you thought was his own magic coming into contact.

The cat jumps out of your lap in a quick movement, becoming a man in the span of a second and grabbing the other gold band, also swiping his nails against his arm to let his blood drip onto the gold.

“’M so sorry, sweetie, I’ll keep myself in check, yeah?” Gaz smiles gently, pulling your left leg forward with his hand. “Kyle Garrick.”

Another flash of light, another band locked in place, and once again, your magic twists inside you as soon as it comes into contact with his.

“Ugh…” You wince slightly, curling up a bit on yourself at the intense feeling.

“Is she hurting…?” Soap mumbles, unsure, looking at you worriedly.

“Probably a bit weirded out with some of our magic seeping through to hers…” Kyle says calmly, though he is also worried, pushing your hair a little out of your face.

“Even though we’re forcing the bond indirectly, she’s bound to feel some kind of discomfort…” Price nods, offering the third band to Ghost. “It would be way worse if we were actually doing the bond pact right off the bat. That’s for when she’s older.”

Ghost grunts as he bites down on his hand, rubbing the blood messily against the shining gold. You try to scoot away from him, but one of his hands immediately goes for your small back, pulling you close and grabbing your right arm.

“Simon Riley.” Immediately, the gold band locks on your wrist, a new wave of magic coming through you and almost knocking you out.

“Price, be gentle…” Kyle murmurs, frowning a bit at your pinched expression as he quietly tries to soothe you.

“Lass might pass out…” Soap observes, hand coming to your hair to pull it out of your face slightly.

“It’s going to be quick,” Price nods, approaching you and pulling your left arm close to him. He gently pulls it close, and with a small kiss against your palm, he locks the band in place. “John Price.”

The magic running through you is immediately bothered once again, twisting out of the way of a new presence as you squirm and whine in their arms. It’s getting hard to stay awake, your body still too weak and young to take the presence of four powerful familiars tied to you. Sure, it’s a weak bond, not a proper pact, but it would be unreal for a witch your age to manage to endure a bond pact. That’s probably why they chose this option in the first place; like this, you’re all tied together, and your young body and mind will be able to get used to them as time passes for a proper pact in the future.

For now, though, it’s all a little too much as you loose consciousness in their arms, feeling four traces of ancient magic stick to your much younger magic core.

747 notes · View notes

quarterlifekitty · 14 days ago

Note

on the fantasy aus.. witch!reader who bakes her spells into pastries and stirs them into drinks at her little cafe and perchance any one of the 141 boys being a frequent customer? big ol knight who needs a little pick me up sometimes?

You’re getting all of them because sometimes I look at these asks and otome games flash in my mind

Gaz, to be quite honest, is mostly here for the pastries and tea. The magic stuff is just a bonus. As a result, the charms he gets are very simple, mostly cosmetic stuff. Clearing under eye bags, whitening teeth, stuff like that. His relentless flirting does not get him free hand pies, much to his dismay.

Soap is on that painkiller pastry grindset. He has various chronic pains that you have spells to soothe in the form of blueberry and cheese danishes. And he probably gets a horrifically sweet drink with whatever the magic equivalent of adderall is. He dabbles in apothecary himself, so he likes to flirt by talking shop with you about potions and reagents.

Ghost comes in like clockwork. Right before closing every day that you’re open. Gets a sleepy time tea and whatever pastry has got the dreamcatcher spell in it. Always overpays and refuses to take any change. Every time he casually reminds you that the offer for marriage is still open, but you’re not yet entirely convinced it’s not just a ploy to have a limitless supply of your tea.

Price is not here for the pastry or the magic— he’s here to wife you the fuck up, to be honest. He sees that you’re hardworking and talented as well as stunning. In addition, he thinks you should come work in the palace to provide your services to the royal guard, rather than running this tiny shop on a side street in town. So he’s trying to sweep you up on two fronts.

König gets the same kind of spells as most knights— treats to soothe various pains and accelerate healing, drinks that encourage pleasant dreams. His most frequent orders are for fruit tarts that increase luck and fortune— sometimes he gets the ones for coming battles, but mostly he gets the ones that are meant to bring luck in matters of the heart. He’s desperately hoping you’ll get the hint soon.

Nik travels vast distances often, and is one of your primary suppliers for ingredients. He’s guilty of regularly offering steep discounts in exchange for kisses (you’ve limited it to just the cheek). He also likes to remind you that you wouldn’t have to compensate him at all if this were more of a family business between you two, yes?

840 notes · View notes

kiatheinsomniac · 6 months ago

Text

──── 𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆! ˊˎ - ☾ ⋆ ﾟ𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: trying to warm up to writing again so I can get out of this slump. Enjoy some smut of Ghibli pretty boy 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Howl Pendragon x Reader 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 3.6k 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: MDNI, NSFW content, magic (so dubcon), masturbation, squirting, overstimulation, whimpery Howl

The basket in the crook of your arm begins to weigh heavily as you wander around the market, browsing the stalls now that you’ve got all the ingredients to make meals for the next few days. You enjoy cooking for your little family in the castle and you know well enough that Howl is too prone to skipping meals unless you sit him down and put one in front of him.

Sweet fragrances fill your nose as you stand before a stall selling flowers, your gaze roaming the vast array of colours and the prices attached to each arrangement.

“We have a buy one get twenty percent off for these arrangements.” The vendor, a woman just shy of turning middle-aged, pipes up as she gestures to the grandest and most expensive row of floral arrangements. You nod with a silent smile to show you’ve heard. You have no intention of spending that much coin today but you do have a little more left over than what you’d expected when you left home today and something colourful would make for a lovely addition to your living space, you think. There’s something inherently romantic and uplifting about flowers and you deeply enjoy making sure they have a presence in your life.

With romance on the mind, you smile to yourself as your fingertips reach up to your collar where a golden necklace is clasped around your neck. It’s a chain of metallic flowers that doesn’t stray too far from your throat, each flower bearing a little pink gem in the middle with a white glassy bead between each flower upon the necklace’s chain. It’s a gift that Howl surprised you with this morning, giving no other reason for it than wanting to give you a little something. He’s overly dramatic at times and has more trouble than most with facing his fears but he does truly love you and you can tell he’s always trying to find ways to remind you of that without words.

Your eyes land on an arrangement of pink tulips, white lilies and lilies of the valley. That’ll look lovely on the main table, you decide.

“Just this one please.” You point to the particular arrangement that’s caught your eye and have your coin purse on hand from within your basket already. The vendor picks up the bouquet and begins wrapping the flowers to make them easier to carry without the arrangement being disrupted. You set the proper amount of money down on the table and your hand plays with your necklace in the meantime.

And as you accept the flowers, you feel a wave of heat bloom in your cheeks.

“Thank you.” You smile politely at the exchange and set the flowers atop your basket, heading off to return home. But your breath feels shorter and skin feels warmer. Have you over-exerted yourself today? Surely not, you do shops like this in the day all the time. You had a decent breakfast and enough sleep… So why do your clothes feel so uncomfortable against your skin? Dehydrated, perhaps.

You find a nearby café and pop inside to buy a snack and some water, hoping to improve your current state. But the other customers and their chatter, their indecisiveness and the way they stand too close to you from behind in the queue is all starting to get on your nerves. You buy your snack and drink and find a little seat in a corner to have them in peace. You find yourself eating quickly to try and amend whatever your body is telling you is wrong and find yourself not taking any time to really appreciate the taste of the sweet little pastry. Your water is similarly finished quickly and without thought. Your mood doesn’t improve and the chair is uncomfortable. You squirm in your seat the whole time, unable to find a comfortable position and regretting having come in here and spent any money at all as it’s done nothing to make you feel better. You want to be alone – no, – you want to be home. Home and in Howl’s arms as he takes your mind away from whatever’s ailing you, maybe even uses a bit of his magic to make you feel better.

You stand up and pluck up your basket from the seat beside you. And then your eyes widen slightly as you feel a sudden wave of slickness in your panties. You cringe as you try to subtly shift your hips and thighs without anyone noticing, praying that whatever’s just leaked from you won’t seep out of your panties. It’s too early to be your period, you assess as you leave the café and make your way home. Discharge, maybe? It could just be wetness but you’re not aroused. Or are you? The thought makes heat bloom across your cheeks as you turn the corner and step into the street that’ll lead you home. You’re frustrated, keep squirming to push your thighs together and make friction, all you want is to be with Howl… but what could have brought this on?

You find yourself shiver slightly as a cool breeze caresses your exposed chest, a pleasant feeling washing down your spine at feeling such relief on your flushed skin. Oh… you are horny. The realisation only fills your mind with lewd images of what you might coax your lover to do to sate such a feeling and the intensity of it only grows and grows. You continue to silently pray that you won’t leak through your panties but the material is sticky now and feels as though it’s rubbing against your sensitive slit with each awkward step.

You bite your bottom lip and wince as your hardened nipples poke against the fabric of your bra and all you want is to feel Howl’s hands squeezing them, his warm mouth wrapped around them. You let out a little huff through your nose as you suppress a soft whine at just how incredible that idea seems right now. You finally arrive home and set the basket down on the table.

“Hi, Calcifer. Are Howl or Markl in?” You ask as you pick up some firewood to feed him.

“Welcome back. Markl left not that long ago to make some deliveries and Howl said he should be back soon.” Calcifer replies before gnawing on the chopped log you’ve given him. You’re disappointed at the news that Howl isn’t back yet but nod your head in acknowledgement.

“Alright. You keep up the good work, you’re doing brilliantly as always.” You offer him a kind smile. A little praise goes a long way with Calcifer and you know Howl doesn’t do it often enough. Calcifer gives his thanks and begins mumbling to himself about how you appreciate him at least.

Your eyes glance to your full basket that needs to be unpacked but you just frown at it and head upstairs to the bedroom that you share with Howl instead. You’re growing increasingly frustrated and you’re sure the flowers will do just fine without water for a little while longer.

The moment the door closes behind you, you’re stripping off your clothing. It gets thrown to the floor, the end of the bed, wherever. Your panties have a little puddle of slick upon the seat and a sinewy string of arousal sticks between them and your pussy as you step out of them and lay yourself on the cool silk sheets of the bed. They feel like a balm to your heated skin and you let out a soft mewl at how your nipples stiffen in the air, feeling so sensitive and aching for attention.

Your mind wanders to memories of long, passionate nights shared with Howl in this bed, how much of an attentive lover he is and how he loves to tease just as much as he himself likes to be teased. One hand slides down past your abdomen as you recall the amount of times he’s reverently lapped between your thighs like you were a fountain of youth and not just a woman. Your other hand pinches at your left nipple and a small moan is muffled behind your bitten lip. Why are you even so worked up? You don’t think you’re at a point in your cycle where your hormones would be affecting you like this. All you can think of is how relieving it is to have your fingers rub sticky circles onto your clit that can never amount to how magical Howl’s tongue can feel there. Your fingers dipping into your weeping hole pale in comparison to the sweet stretch of his cock. All you can think of is him, and what you want him to do to you as you moan softly without anxiety that you’ll be overheard as the door is enchanted to be soundproofed. You yourself feel enchanted, like you’re under some spell of-

Your fingers pause completely and your eyes open, the bubble of your fantasy having burst.

That bastard.

You were under a spell. A spell he put upon you this morning with a gentle declaration of love and a kiss to your cheek as he clasped your new gift around your neck this morning. You wipe the wetness from your fingers onto your thighs and sit upright, your body subconsciously spreading your legs wider as you do so. You reach back for the clasp of the necklace and end up tracing your hands around the entire chain of it but there’s no clasp to be found. It’s gone. You huff. What an asshole, casting a spell over you to make you horny while you go out and be a dutiful lover, making sure you all eat for the next few days and he has the audacity to not even be here when you return feeling like a cat in heat.

Without him here to break the spell by removing the necklace from your throat, there’s little else you can do and your throbbing clit is practically weeping for the return of your fingers. Hoping that you can at least quell the heat in your core, if not satiate it, you lay back with a frustrated huff and resume rubbing at the sensitive little pearl. You’re so wet that you can hear the slick sounds as you touch yourself, your head tipped back against the plush pillow beneath your head. It feels good but it’s not good enough. Howl made this mess and now you firmly believe that he should be the one to clean it up; with his slender fingers, that talented mouth, his pretty co-

“Well, isn’t this a most welcome sight to return home to?~” A familiar voice teasingly muses from the doorway.

You’re startled for a moment as you instinctively try to cover yourself up before you take a moment to realise who it is that’s closing the door behind him.

“You.” You hiss as he grins down at you, clearly proud of his handiwork. “This is your fault!” He cocks his head to the side, green jewels swinging at his ears as his lips curl upwards even more.

“Oh, you were thinking about me? I’m flattered, sweetheart~”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” You huff in reply as he sets a knee on the bed and his eyes drink in the sight of your flushed skin, everything on display for him as you lay beautifully in the middle of your shared bed like a present just waiting to be opened and played with.

“Ah… You don’t like the magic I put into your gift?” He asks, his tone playful and you don’t know whether you want to smack or kiss that smug grin right off his pretty face.

“No.” You reply firmly. His deft fingers glide up your thigh and then curl around it to tug it towards him. He lets out an awed sigh at the sight of your wet slit, your slickness dripping down to the sheets.

“Oh but look~” He croons, “Your sweet pussy just loves it~” He bites his plush bottom lip as though resisting the urge to just dive right into you like a starved man. “So pretty…” He whispers as he gently gathers up some wetness from your entrance and pushes it up to smear over your sensitive clit. It sends a shot of liquid pleasure straight through your blood and you can’t hold back the little moan that escapes your throat.

“How about this…” He begins to propose as he moves his hand away from your pussy in favour of featherly dancing his fingers between your hips in a way that’s almost ticklish but brings you a teasing sort of pleasure, “You put on a pretty show for me-” He leans in to kiss down the valley of your breasts, warm and sensual, “-and I’ll remove the necklace, deal?”

You whine quietly, wanting relief right here and right now after the day of desperate need you’ve faced so far. But you know that Howl is a trickster at heart: if you don’t play by his rules then you won’t be in for the prize.

“Deal.” You concede. Howl makes himself comfortable at the end of the bed between your legs, a hand reaching down to adjust his pants as he takes in the sight of your aching pussy and stiff nipples. You lay back and spread your legs wide apart to make sure that none of his view is obstructed, even if it brings a rush of heat to your cheeks.

You resume rubbing your throbbing clit, making sure to make quite a spectacle of using your fingers to spread your slit open for him to see just how wet you are from the enchantment he’s put upon you (and from being watched in such an intimate and vulnerable position like this). He’s watching you with enthralled attention as you play with yourself for his bright blue eyes to see.

You’re oozing slick as you rub yourself in front of him, your pussy practically begging him with this little show to just come and take you already with how desperate and ready you are for him after suffering from the necklace’s enchantment all day until now. As you use one hand to rub sticky circles on your clit, the other comes up to cup your breast, teasing and pinching at your pert nipples for him.

Alluring moans and whines spill past your lips as you try to tempt him into giving up this bet and fucking you right here and now, convincing him with both sight and sound. Your fingers make an audibly slick noise as you smear your wetness through your slit, feeling it leak down from your needy entrance.

“Rub faster now.” He murmurs as he bites his lip, hand rubbing at his hardening cock through his pants, the bulge of it becoming ever more obvious. “Come on, pretty girl, beg me to fuck you~” There’s a taunt to his tone. You know he already wants you (this is Howl, after all, the damn can’t ever keep his hands off you) but he’s holding back just to see how far you’ll go for him.

But you obey his order nonetheless and press down harder on your clit, rubbing faster against it as it throbs beneath your fingertips that flick with need against it. The moans pour past your lips with more frequency now and you feel the beginnings of your orgasm coiling tight in your abdomen, a sensation that leaves you aching for Howl to crawl closer and finish what he started when he clipped that damned chain around your neck this morning. Your lips tremble and the sight of your impending climax makes Howl wet his lips as he undresses himself, taking out his cock to stroke it to the sight of you, pre-cum beading at his pretty pink tip.

“That’s it, sweetheart. Earn it.” He says lowly and he draws nearer to you. The promise of being filled by the cock that he’s fisting in front of you seems to tip you over that edge and you throw your head back against the pillows with a series of cries for him and the liquid-electric pleasure that bursts through your veins. It’s intense, far more intense than when you usually touch yourself, and you can only chalk it down to the enchantment’s effects on you.

While your head is still reeling up in the clouds of pleasure, you feel Howl’s weight over you, his hands capturing your wrists as his lips crash onto yours to swallow all of your pretty moans, tongue curling into your mouth. But he pulls away just a few millimetres to hear the little choked noise you let out when he pushes his cock into your fluttering heat, still so sensitive from having cum just seconds ago.

“H-Howl-!” You whimper out his name and look up at him with wide eyes. Usually, he gives you tender breaks between orgasms that are filled with sensual touches and soft kisses, never once has he intentionally taken you while you’re already at the height of your sensitivity like this.

“Ah, it’s like you’re trying to milk me already…” He hisses between his teeth, not having expected you to feel quite this good compared to his hand. He closes his sapphire eyes for a moment to compose himself before he begins to thrust into you, skin smacking against yours with each deep thrust.

“You said you’d take the necklace off!” You gasp between little panted breaths, fighting how your eyes just want to roll back as your hips twitch and your thighs shake.

“Mh, I did say that~” He agrees with a quiet whine at how tightly you’re squeezing his cock, his hands still keeping your wrists in place as he holds them on either side of your head. His necklace and earrings swing with each thrust into you, his hips angling so that the head of his cock nudges against your sweet spot over and over. He glances down to find you creaming around him already, your pussy soaked with your heightened arousal. “You feel so good… keep squeezing on me like that, my love~” There’s almost a whimper to his tone as he fucks into you, leaning down over your body to bury his face in your neck and take in your scent as his balls smack against your ass.

“Howl, c-can’t take m-more…” You brokenly plead with him, head tipped back against the pillows and granting his warm mouth perfect access to your neck for him to cover it in kisses and little bites.

“Oh, yes you can~” He replies and you can feel the smile upon his lips as he says so.

“You’re gonna let yourself feel so good~” He pushes one of your thighs up with a hand under your knee so that he can thrust deeper into you, making sure to keep his hips angled to hit all of your sweet spots and grinding against you a little each time he bottoms out so that your clit rubs against his pelvis, “And you’re gonna squirt all over my cock~” He murmurs by your ear and catches the lobe between his teeth.

His words strike just as deeply as his cock does into you and you find yourself clenching around him, making him whimper as his breath fans against the shell of your ear. He speeds up just enough to have you wrapping your legs around his tapered waist, holding him close so that there’s no chance of him trying to pull away at the last minute, something you wouldn’t put past him.

You moan desperately beneath him as you feel yet another climax approaching, the muscles in your abdomen going taut as you clench on him. Howl’s grip on your wrist and leg tighten as he moans praises into your ear mere moments before you squirt on his cock, making a mess of it. And he continues thrusting into you to ride you through it.

“That’s it, pretty girl, that’s it~” He lets out a shaky breath, his voice whiny in your ear, “Cum on my cock, make it yours, sweetheart~” And it’s just as you’re about to cry out that now it’s really too much that Howl hits his own end too, pulling out to rapidly stroke his cock and watch his cum paint ribbons over your pretty, used pussy.

Your mind and body are reeling so much from all the pleasure that you don’t even notice that the chain around your throat is being removed until you hear its little links clink together as it’s set down on the bedside. Howl collapses onto the bed beside you and pulls you into his arms, pushing your hair away from your face so that he can pepper your forehead and cheeks in kisses before finally softly pecking your lips.

“Easy, darling, easy…” He whispers soothingly as he cups your cheek and strokes it with his thumb, “Would you like some water?” He offers softly, knowing that all of this was orchestrated to be very intense for you and you’re deserving of aftercare that’s just as intense.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*

The next morning, Howl wakes with a smile on his lips to find you in his arms, hair tousled from yesterday’s activities and sleep. You’re warm and still naked against him, the skin-on-skin contact making him just want to melt into you.

He lets out a quiet groan, however, at an ache in his loins when he realises he’s erect. His hand runs down his pale belly to wrap around his cock, only for him to let out a muffled whimper when he finds himself much more sensitive than usual.

Your eyes crack open as you giggle cheekily, revealing that you haven’t been asleep at all. The wizard’s other hand rises up to his neck to find that the necklace has now been clipped around his throat instead.

“Oh, you minx…”

☾ ⋆ ﾟlike my work? why not: ∘ buy me a coffee? ∘ comms. ∘ taglist ∘ follow/reblog

🏷️@involuntaryspasms @veryfancydoilies @writing-noah @signyvenetia @justanotherkpopstanlol @brideofalucard @wandererindreams @singleteapot @kingheinrey @yourfamilyfriendsatan @welcome2thesaltyspitoon @firagirl @ghostofpolaris @deers-tears @itsonlydana @jofie-does-things @sarah22447

#howl's moving castle #howl x reader #howl x reader smut #howl pendragon #howl pendragon x reader #howl pendragon x reader smut

1K notes · View notes